The first summer home after freshman year was supposed to feel like relief.
It was Supposed to be late mornings, catching up with old friends, sleeping in my own bed without worrying about whether the guy down the hall was going to set off the fire alarm at three in the morning because he tried to microwave ramen without water.
But nothing about coming home felt like relief.
It felt like stepping back into the wreckage we left behind.
Tyler was already there when I got back. Of course he was. His dad's car was in the driveway, gleaming like money could scrub away everything else. And Katie's car was there too, because why wouldn't she be?
I hauled my suitcase up the front porch, my chest tight, every step heavier than the last. Mom had decorated the hallway with fresh flowers, like summer itself could soften the air between us all. But the silence at the dinner table that first night said otherwise.
Tyler didn't look at me. Not once. Katie sat right next to him, chattering about her own school like she belonged in the seat that used to feel like mine, even though it never really was. She laughed at something he said, and he gave her that crooked half-smile, the one I knew too well.
I stabbed at my food and pretended I didn't notice.
The days blurred. I threw myself into a routine: helping Mom with errands, reading in my room, slipping out to meet Dan and Micah when I could. They were still together, still glowing, even when they bickered. Seeing them was like standing too close to a fire , you couldn't help but feel the heat, even if you were freezing inside.
Dan nudged me during one of our meetups at the café downtown. "You look like hell, man."
"Thanks," I muttered, staring into my iced coffee.
He didn't let up. "It's because of Tyler, isn't it?"
The name cracked something in me. I didn't answer. Didn't need to.
Micah reached across the table, his voice softer. "You can't keep burning yourself out pretending you're fine. You're not."
I wanted to say I know. Wanted to say I can't stop. But the words jammed in my throat, so I just nodded.
And then Katie showed up at the café. She spotted me instantly, her eyes narrowing like daggers. She didn't come over, but she didn't have to. The glare was enough.
"She still hates you," Dan muttered.
"Yeah," I said. "Get in line."
That night, I heard Tyler's car pull up late. Heard the muffled thud of his footsteps, the laughter of whoever he was with before the door slammed shut. I lay awake in my room, staring at the ceiling, my fists curled tight.
I'd seen enough on social media—Tyler at parties, Tyler pressed up against strangers, Tyler's smile never quite reaching his eyes. Now I was living in the same house with the real thing.
And every day, it gnawed at me.
It came to a head one evening a week into summer. Mom had dragged me and Tyler to pick up supplies for a cookout. Katie tagged along, because she always did.
At the grocery store, she looped her arm through Tyler's like it was hers to claim. "You didn't tell me you liked strawberry ice cream," she said, tilting her head at him.
He smirked, that lazy grin. "There's a lot you don't know about me."
My chest went tight. The cart handle squeaked under my grip.
Katie's eyes flicked to me, sharp. "Oh, right. Ben probably thinks he knows everything. Isn't that cute?"
I opened my mouth, but Tyler cut me off. "Drop it, Katie."
She pouted, but she dropped his arm. Still, her glare burned holes in me the rest of the trip.
By the time we got home, I was vibrating with anger. Not just at Katie. At him. At me. At everything.
I slammed the groceries onto the counter. "You enjoy that? Letting her hang all over you?"
Tyler blinked, caught off guard. "What's your problem?"
"My problem?" I laughed bitterly. "You. You're my problem. You act like none of this ever happened. like us..." My throat caught. "Like it was nothing."
Something dark flashed across his face. "Don't you dare."
"Oh, I'll dare. You think you're the only one who gets to hurt? You think screwing half your campus is going to make you forget? Newsflash, Tyler, it doesn't. I see it. I see how empty you are, no matter how many drinks you take, no matter how many bodies you use."
He stepped closer, his jaw tight. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about."
"I know enough." My voice cracked. "Because I feel it too."
Silence stretched between us, heavy, charged. His chest rose and fell, fast.
Then he grabbed me.
His mouth was on mine before I could breathe. Harsh, desperate, angry. And God help me, I kissed him back just as hard.
We stumbled down the hall, crashing into walls, hands clawing at shirts. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet. It was years of hate and want and grief colliding all at once.
By the time we hit my bedroom, we were already half-undressed. His skin burned under my hands, every scar and muscle a map I'd memorized long ago. He cursed under his breath when I pulled him closer, his voice ragged.
"You drive me insane," he muttered against my neck.
"Good," I gasped. "Because you've been ruining me for years."
" I hate you soo much" he said between kisses.
"I hate you more". I wish it was true.
Tyler gave me the best blowjob of my life . The heat of his mouth was heavenly. I came soo hard, I wished it lasted longer. When i tried to blow him to he refused. It hurt but i said nothing. He just lay there watching me as he pleasure himself.
We lay tangled in the sheets, sweat cooling on our skin. The room was silent except for our uneven breaths.
Tyler stared at the ceiling. "We shouldn't have done that."
My chest tightened. "I know."
But neither of us moved away.
The days after were worse.
We avoided each other in the halls, speaking only when our parents were around. But the tension hummed louder than before, every glance charged with what we weren't saying.
Katie cornered me one afternoon when Tyler wasn't around. Her voice was low, venomous. "I don't know what your deal is, but I know you're the reason he's not mine. You think you're subtle? You're not."
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my face neutral. "Katie..."
"Save it," she hissed. "Whatever you think you have with him, it won't last. People like you never get happy endings."
Her words dug under my skin, sharper than I wanted to admit.
Toward the end of summer, the cookout finally happened. Relatives came over, laughter filling the yard. I forced a smile, helping Mom with trays of food, pretending everything was fine.
But then, as the night wound down, Dad Morgan clapped his hands. "Family photo!"
We gathered on the porch steps, all of us squished together. Tyler sat next to me, his knee brushing mine. I froze, pulse racing.
The camera flashed.
And for one brief second, when no one else was looking, Tyler's pinky brushed mine. Just a ghost of a touch. Barely there.
But it was enough.
That night, lying awake in bed, I knew nothing had been solved. We were still a mess. Still carrying shame and secrets like weights strapped to our backs.
But for the first time in months, maybe years, I didn't feel completely alone.
And that scared me more than anything.