Burke’s Little Secret

C-6 P-3

Annabeth's POV

————

The celebratory shouting inside the team bus only grew louder the closer we got to campus. By the time the wheels finally screeched to a halt in the athletic lot, the guys were already screaming about the after-party. They were planning a massive blowout to celebrate the win, and I could hear Levi’s booming voice leading the chant as everyone scrambled to gather their gear. Noah gave me a quiet, lingering look as he stood up, an unvoiced question hanging in his eyes, but I just offered him a weak smile and shook my head.

I couldn't do it. I was completely, utterly mentally exhausted.

While the rest of the campus seemed to be moving toward the frat houses, I walked in the exact opposite direction. The crisp night air felt cold against my face, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the bus. My feet felt heavy as I dragged myself up the stairs of my dorm building, the silence of the hallway wrapping around me like a shield.

The moment I stepped inside my room, I locked the door behind me and dropped my bag to the floor. The quiet was almost deafening. I didn't turn on the overhead light; instead, I just let the pale glow of the campus streetlamps filter through my blinds. I shed the dark jacket I’d worn to the game, throwing it over the back of my desk chair, and pulled on my oldest, most oversized gray hoodie.

Sitting down on the edge of my unmade bed, I pulled my knees tightly against my chest and buried my face in my hands.

Noah’s words from the bus ride were still echoing on a relentless loop in my mind. All of it is my fault. It wasn't that Isaac didn't care about me. It wasn't that the time we spent together in this very room meant nothing to him. He was running because of my brothers. He was suffocating under the weight of Levi’s fierce, overprotective gaze and the unspoken rules of the locker room. The realization didn't make the ache in my chest go away; it just changed the shape of it. It made me feel guilty, angry, and incredibly sad all at once.

I looked over at the empty futon across the room. Just a couple of weeks ago, he had been sitting right there, laughing at some stupid joke, making this tiny dorm room feel like the safest place in the world. Now, he was probably at the party, surrounded by hundreds of people, trying to pretend I didn't exist. I reached for my phone, staring at the blank screen, fighting the desperate urge to type out a message. But what would I even say? I know why you're running?

I turned the phone face down on my mattress, crawling under the heavy blankets without undressing. I closed my eyes, listening to the faint, distant thumping of bass from somewhere across the quad, wishing more than anything that I could just turn my brain off.

———-

Isaac's POV

———-

The music at the house was loud enough to make the windowpanes rattle, and the entire living room was a sea of flashing strobe lights and sweating bodies. Everywhere I turned, someone was slapping my shoulder, shoving a fresh cup into my hand, or screaming my name to congratulate me on the final play of the game. I had played the best game of my life, the team had won, and by all accounts, I was supposed to be on top of the world right now.

Instead, I felt entirely empty.

"Hey, Isaac! Incredibe game tonight, seriously," a girl from my sociology lecture said, stepping directly into my path as I tried to navigate toward the kitchen. She leaned in close, her eyes bright as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger, dropping a very obvious hint. "A bunch of us are heading to the back patio in a bit. You should come with."

"Thanks," I said, forcing the most convincing casual smile I could muster as I stepped past her. "Appreciate the support. I'm just gonna grab some water."

It was the third time in twenty minutes I’d had to smoothly back away from someone trying to talk to me. Normally, the attention would have been a massive ego boost, but tonight, it just irritated me. Every voice that wasn't hers just sounded like static.

I leaned against the hallway doorframe, my eyes automatically scanning the thick of the crowd. I knew she hadn't come. I had watched her walk away toward her dorm the second the bus parked, her head down and her shoulders hunched against the cold. Noah had told me she was exhausted and went straight to sleep, but my stupid, stubborn heart kept holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, she would change her mind and walk through the front door.

I kept searching for a flash of that dark jacket she’d worn to the party, or the sight of her messy hair, but there was nothing.

Across the room, I caught Noah watching me from the kitchen entrance. He didn't look angry—he just looked tired, his eyes carrying a heavy weight of understanding that made me want to look away. He knew exactly who I was looking for.

Jasmine walked past me with a group of cheerleaders, throwing a sharp, pointed look in my direction before intentionally ignoring me to talk to Marcus. I didn't even care. The jealousy, the anger, the fear of Levi catching on—it all felt incredibly heavy in the morning-after clarity of the game. I was surrounded by a hundred people cheering my name, but the only thing I could think about was the quiet safety of her dorm room, and how much I hated myself for letting my promise turn me into a ghost in her life.