The sun was already slipping behind the clouds when Dylan found himself outside the old art room—the one tucked behind the music wing, where no one ever went after school.
His palms were sweaty, his sketchbook pressed tightly to his chest, like it could somehow protect him from what was coming.
Aaron had replied.
"Meet me after school. In the music room"
Dylan stared at the door, heart thudding so loudly it drowned out the distant chatter of students heading home. He hadn't opened his sketchbook all day. Couldn't. Not with the weight of this moment hanging over him like a final breath before a storm.
He stepped inside.
The room was quiet, golden with the last glow of afternoon light. Aaron was already there—sitting cross-legged on the old rug, fingers tangled in his hoodie strings, eyes fixed on the floor.
He looked up when Dylan entered.
Time stopped.
"Hey," Aaron said, voice low.
Dylan swallowed. "Hey."
They stared at each other. Not like friends. Not like strangers either. Like something else entirely—like two people caught between what they were and what they couldn't say.
Aaron stood slowly. "Thanks for coming."
Dylan nodded but stayed where he was.
Aaron took a breath. "I just… I didn't know what else to do. I've been thinking about everything. And I guess I need to ask—what's going on with us?"
Dylan's throat tightened. "Us?"
Aaron stepped forward, cautiously. "You've been distant. Cold. But not like you hate me. More like you're scared of something."
Silence.
And then Dylan whispered, "I am."
Aaron's brows knit. "Of what?"
Dylan didn't answer. He walked to the window instead, gripping the ledge like it might ground him. "You remember what l told you last time? That stupid sleepover at Conner's when everyone fell asleep, and we stayed up talking about soulmates?"
Aaron smiled faintly. "You said you didn't believe in them."
"I lied."
He turned around. His voice cracked.
"I think I do believe in soulmates. I think I've known mine for half a year now. I just didn't want it to be true... because" he paused.
"Because what?" Aaron asked genuinely concerned.
"Because it was you."
Aaron froze.
Dylan forced himself to keep going. "I tried to hide it. I thought it would go away if I just buried it deep enough. But watching you with Ruby… seeing how easily you looked at her like that—it broke something in me."
Aaron's eyes filled with confusion, with a flicker of something deeper. "Dylan… but am-"
"I'm in love with you."
The words echoed, sharp and soft all at once.
Aaron didn't speak.
Aaron's breath caught, like the air had turned too heavy to breathe. He looked at Dylan—really looked at him—and saw the fear behind the confession. The vulnerability. The love.
And it hurt.
Because he couldn't return it.
He stepped forward slowly, not too close, but enough to close the space with sincerity.
"Dylan," he said quietly, "I need you to hear me when I say this."
Dylan's eyes shimmered, wide and bracing.
"I love you," Aaron said. "God, I love you. You're my best friend. You've been there for me in ways nobody else ever has. But…"
He swallowed hard, guilt washing over him.
"I'm not gay. I don't feel the way you feel. I never have."
Dylan looked down. Aaron could see the trembling in his shoulders.
"But that doesn't make what you feel wrong," Aaron continued, voice gentler now. "It's brave. And it's real. And I'm sorry—so, so sorry—that I ever made you think there might've been a chance, even by accident."
Dylan's jaw tightened. "You didn't. I just… hoped."
Aaron nodded, heart heavy. "I wish I could give you what you're looking for. I really do. But pretending would hurt us both. And I'd rather lose a hundred versions of whatever this could've been than lie to you."
Silence.
Long and aching.
Aaron stepped back. "I still want you in my life. But I'll respect it if you need space."
Dylan didn't speak right away. When he did, it was a whisper: "I don't know what I need."
Aaron gave a soft nod. "That's okay. Take your time."
He turned to leave—then paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder.
"I meant what I said, Dee. You're not broken. You're not alone."
And with that, he slipped out of the room, leaving behind the sketchbook and everything they'd never be.
The Confession That Came Too Late
Setting: Aaron's backyard, just before sunset. The sky is bruised with gold and shadow. The air smells like fresh-cut grass. Ruby stands near the porch railing, arms crossed, eyes distant. Aaron emerges from inside, drying his hands on a towel.
Aaron:
"You said it was urgent."
Ruby:
She nods slowly. Doesn't meet his eyes.
"It's about Dylan."
Aaron:
Still casual, unaware
"What about him?"
Ruby:
Hesitates, then:
"I think he likes you. As in... really likes you."
A beat. The towel slips from Aaron's hand. A crow caws in the distance.
Aaron:
Quietly
"Ruby…"
Ruby:
"I know. I know. I should've kept my mouth shut. But I can't pretend I didn't see it anymore. The way he looks at you when you're not watching. Or when you are."
Aaron:
Tight-lipped
"He told me."
Ruby:
Stunned
"What?"
Aaron:
"This afternoon. He came over. And told me everything."
Ruby:
Steps back, visibly shaken
"Oh my God. I... I didn't know. I swear. I wouldn't have—"
Aaron:
"It's okay."
Ruby:
Growing desperate
"No, it's not. I thought I was helping. I thought maybe if I got it out in the open, you'd finally see what he's been carrying. What we've all been dancing around."
Aaron:
Leans on the porch railing, jaw tight
"I told him I don't feel that way. That I love you."
Ruby:
Quiet now
"I believe you. But that's not the whole story, is it?"
Aaron:
Looks over at her sharply
"What other story is there?"
Ruby:
"You're not just Dylan's friend, Aaron. You're not just anything with him. I didn't want to believe it either, but... there are moments I think you love him too. Maybe not in the same way. Maybe not in a way you even understand. Yet."
Aaron:
Shakes his head
"You're reading too much into it."
Ruby:
Steps closer
"Am I? Because I've watched you drop everything for him. Sit up all night waiting for his text. I've watched you stare at him when he wasn't looking, like he's the one thing you don't know how to want."
A heavy pause.
Aaron:
"Ruby..."
Ruby:
"I'm not saying you're in love with him. I just think you love him differently than you ever will admit. Even to yourself."
Aaron:
Sharp, defensive
"We're dating. You and me. Not me and Dylan. And am not... Gay. His a friend, Just a friend."
Ruby:
Sadly
"I know. And maybe that's the tragedy of it."
The Invitation
Setting: A week later. Dylan is sitting alone in the school's art room after hours. A few unfinished canvases lean against the walls. His fingers are stained with charcoal.
The door creaks. It's Aaron and Ruby. Together.
Ruby:
"Hey."
Dylan:
Doesn't look up
"Didn't think I was still on the guest list."
Aaron:
Steps forward
"We're going to the lake. Just us. Like old times."
Dylan:
"Old times are dead."
Ruby:
Softly
"They don't have to be."
Dylan finally looks up. Something bitter dances behind his eyes.
Dylan:
Quiet, broken
"Then stop trying to dig up their bones."
A silence. Aaron meets Dylan's gaze, but he says nothing. Just reaches into his pocket and tosses him a folded paper — a sketch of the three of them, drawn by Aaron. Unfinished.
Aaron:
"Come if you want. Or don't. But I hope you do."
They leave. The door shuts gently behind them. Dylan sits in silence. He unfolds the paper. His hand shakes.
Later that night. Conner sits on the curb outside Skie's house. She joins him, blanket wrapped around her.
Skie:
"Did you hear?"
Conner:
"What?"
Skie:
"Dylan. Aaron. Ruby. They're all going to the lake. Like we did five summers ago."
Conner:
Watches the stars above
"If Dylan's going... I guess we should tag along too."
Skie:
"Yeah, we should. And maybe, bring your girlfriend." she said to him sharp and with looking at him.
Conner was surprised by her words but hugged her suddenly with a smile on his face.