Chapter 14 Alex
The river path was darker than I expected.
Street lamps cast pools of yellow light every fifty feet or so, leaving gaps of shadow between them. I kept my hands in my jacket pockets, breath visible in the cool evening air. Fall had settled in—the kind of cold that bit at your face but hadn’t quite turned brutal yet.
Days since the debate. Days since I’d stood in that Kingswell lobby and told Liam I trusted him.
Liam had texted yesterday to make plans for tonight and it felt good to see his name in my messages.
Too good.
My chest had done this stupid flip when I’d seen it. Just his name on my screen—Liam—and suddenly I couldn’t breathe right.
Come to the dorm tomorrow night. Harper Hall Room 312. 8pm.
Simple. Direct. Business. Exactly what this was.
Except my heart was racing like I was headed to something that mattered. Like this was more than just solving a problem. Like seeing him again meant something beyond deleting a video that could destroy us both.
I told myself it was just nerves. Just the adrenaline of finally dealing with this threat that had been hanging over my head for weeks.
Just do this tonight and it will be over. The video gone. The blackmail finished.
Ethan’s words kept echoing in my head. I want you to stop lying. To me, to yourself, to everyone.
I was so tired of lying. Tired of calculating every word, every gesture, every interaction. Tired of being afraid.
Maybe once the video was dealt with, I could just... tell Liam. Tell him the truth. That I’d thought about him every day since Brackett Lake. That I wanted him in ways that terrified me. That I was gay and exhausted from pretending otherwise.
Maybe I could finally be free.
Except it didn’t matter, did it?
Liam had a girlfriend. And even if he didn’t, who knew if Liam was even... what? Gay? Bi? Or had that summer just been experimentation for him? A summer mistake he’d already moved past?
The video had connected us and once it was gone, we’d have no reason to talk again.
Something in my chest fell at the thought of us not having a reason to talk.
I crossed the bridge that connected our campuses, the river moving dark and steady beneath me. From here I could see both schools—Kingswell’s lit Gothic towers on one side, Riverside’s functional concrete buildings on the other. Two different worlds separated by a hundred yards of cold water.
Riverside’s campus opened up before me—utilitarian buildings, cracked sidewalks, students in hoodies and sweatpants heading to the library. It felt lived-in. Real. Nothing like Kingswell.
It took me a minute to find the right dorm. Harper Hall. Three stories of brick that had seen better days, windows glowing warm against the darkness.
I checked Liam’s text again for the room number. Third floor. 312.
The building smelled like old carpet and microwaved food. A group of guys passed me in the stairwell, laughing about something, not giving me a second glance.
I found room 312 and knocked.
Noah opened the door—slim build, messy curls, and round glasses. “Come in.”
The dorm room was small. Two beds, two desks, a narrow strip of floor between them. One side was organized—bed made, everything in its place.
The other side was chaos. Rowing gear piled on the chair, textbooks stacked haphazardly, bed unmade.
Liam was lying back on that bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
My breath caught.
He was wearing a gray t-shirt that clung to his shoulders and chest in ways that made it hard to look away. His hair was still damp from a shower, dark and messy. The line of his jaw. The way his arms flexed behind his head.
I wanted to be in that bed with him.
The thought hit me so hard I almost stumbled.
Liam sat up when he saw me. Our eyes met and everything else disappeared for half a second.
Then Noah cleared his throat. “Okay. Let’s get down to business.”
I forced myself to look at him instead. Focus. This was about the video. Not about Liam’s arms or his bed or the way my heart was racing just from being in the same room.
Noah gestured to his desk, where his laptop was open to what looked like building schematics. “My computer science guy came through. The text originated from a student account from the Kingswell Athletic Department.”
My stomach dropped. “A Kingswell athlete?”
“That means one of your people is fucking with us. No surprise,” Liam said.
“It’s not—” I stopped because what could I say? That not everyone at Kingswell was like that? Most were.
Liam snorted. “See, you can’t even—”
Noah cut in, pulling up another window. “Which means it’s on a server which we can only access through the basement of your athletics building.”
“Who on my team would...” I said. My chest tightened and his face flashed in my mind. Short brown hair, grayish eyes. Braden.
“Not sure.” Noah zoomed in on the building plans. He held up a small USB drive. “My guy gave me these blueprints and this. The file’s stored locally on that server. If we can get in and plug this into the main terminal, the script runs automatically and deletes that file from the student account.”
I looked at the plans. Hallways. Stairwells. Room labels.
“You want us to break into the building?”
“I want you to retrieve what’s yours and delete evidence that could destroy both your futures. But yes. Technically, breaking in.”
Liam stood. Walked over to Noah’s desk, arms crossed. He’d already seen all this, clearly. Already knew the plan.
“When?” I asked.
“Tonight,” Liam said, his voice flat.
“And if we get caught?”
“We won’t.”
I turned to face him fully. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one with a father who’d—“ I stopped. Swallowed. “If I get expelled, I lose everything.”
“Yeah?” Liam’s jaw tightened. “And what do you think happens to me? I’m here on scholarship, remember? Or did you forget not everyone gets a trust fund safety net?”
Heat rose in my chest. “I didn’t—”
“Whatever.” He looked away. “Point is, we’re both screwed if this goes wrong. So maybe save the rich boy panic for later.”
The words stung more than they should have. I wanted to snap back, but Noah cleared his throat.
“Can we not do this right now?” Noah looked between us. “You two can hate each other after we delete the video and save your rowing careers.”
Liam shifted his weight, still not looking at me. “When do we go?”
“Tonight,” Noah said. “Late. After everything closes.”
“And if we get caught?” I asked again, because someone needed to think this through.
“We won’t.” Liam’s eyes finally met mine.
Green. I’d forgotten how green they were. Not the polished emerald of expensive jewelry. Something darker. Like deep water in summer. There was something hard in them. Determined. Angry, maybe. And something else that was there, that only he and I knew about.
“You really think you can pull this off?” I asked.
“I know I can.” His voice was certain. Almost arrogant. “Question is whether you can keep up.”
My throat tightened. “Keep up?”
“Yeah. This isn’t a regatta. Just you and me breaking into a building.” He leaned against Noah’s desk. “You gonna freeze when it matters? Can you actually handle pressure outside of a boat?”
The challenge in his voice made anger spike through my chest.
I stared him down. “I can handle it.”
“Can you? Because last time things got hard, you ran. Chose Kingswell. Chose the easy path.”
The words hung there.
Liam’s jaw tightened the second they left his mouth. Something flickered across his face—a crack in the armor. Shouldn’t have said that.
His eyes cut to Noah, quick, like he needed to gauge if Noah would know what it meant. If Noah would get that we had spent the summer before freshman year kissing.
We stared at each other. The room felt smaller suddenly. Too warm. The air between us charged with everything we weren’t saying.
Noah cleared his throat again, louder this time. “Okay. Great. Love the energy. Very inspiring.” He held up a pair of earbuds. “Can we focus? You’ll both wear these. Connect them to Liam’s phone. I’ll be on the line the whole time, guiding you through the building, telling you where to go.”
I looked up at Noah, glad that he kept pushing the whole thing forward. Not questioning. I had to say something to keep the conversation moving in any direction away from Liam’s comment.
“This feels like a bank heist," I said.
“Less money, same adrenaline,” Noah said, grinning. Then his expression shifted—something playful. “Besides, this is only my second time committing organized crime. I’m practically a professional now.”
Liam snorted. “The poker thing doesn’t count.”
“The disciplinary probation says it counts.”
“You were dealing cards in a basement, not breaking into a secure server room.”
“Still crime.” Noah handed us each an earbud. “Still organized.”
I turned the tiny device over in my hand. “Your friend really gave you all this? The blueprints, the deletion script, the earbuds?”
“He owed me a favor,” Noah said. “And he’s very good at what he does. This will work. The earbuds are mine, don’t worry, I cleaned them.”
The room felt smaller suddenly. The three of us standing too close, the weight of what we were about to do pressing down.
“What if there are cameras?” I asked.
“There are,” Noah said. “But I don’t think they’re being monitored. And if you don’t get caught there will be no reason for them to check the tape.”
Liam picked up his earbud. “What’s the timeline?”
“Building closes at eleven. Security does one sweep at eleven-thirty. After that, the place is empty until six AM.” Noah pulled up another window—some kind of security schedule. “You go in at midnight. In and out in twenty minutes, max.”
Twenty minutes.
I tried to steady my breathing.
This was insane. If we got caught, it wouldn’t just be the video that destroyed us. It would be breaking and entering. Tampering with university property. We’d both be expelled.
But if we didn’t do this, the video stayed out there. A ticking bomb that could go off any time.
Liam was watching me. “You scared?”
I didn’t respond. I was scared but I couldn’t show him weakness, Liam was on the attack tonight.
But apparently, he could read it on my face. “Good. Means you’re not completely stupid.”
Not exactly reassuring, but coming from Liam, it might have been the closest thing to a compliment I’d get.
“Are you scared?” I asked.
He paused, and his jaw worked like he was chewing on the words. “Yeah,” he said finally. “But we’re doing it anyway.”
Noah clapped his hands together. “Alright. Let’s go over the plan one more time, then you two are heading out. And for the record”—he looked between us—“if you get caught, I don’t exist.”
“Noted,” Liam said.
We spent the next twenty minutes going over the plan. Entry point. Server room location. The exact steps for accessing the system and running the deletion script. Noah walked us through it three times until we both had it memorized.
Finally, he stood. “Okay. It’s ten-thirty now. You need to get to Kingswell and wait for the security sweep. Once I confirm it’s clear, you go in.”
Liam grabbed a black hoodie and with his dark jeans, he looked like he was about to rob a place. He looked good.
My hands were shaking. I shoved them in my pockets. Noah was going over the blueprints and Liam turned to me. Close.
“Hey. We got this.”
We... as in us together.
I looked at him and he wasn’t smiling. Wasn’t trying to make it seem easier than it was. I didn’t get it. Just a moment ago he was berating me in front of Noah. But when no one was looking he was here for me, he cared, and he hated me all at the same time.
He was about to risk everything, just like he did at the fight when he defended me.
“Yeah, thanks, we got this,” I said.
Noah walked us to the door. “Earbuds in. Phone on. I’ll be guiding you through. Do exactly what I say, when I say it.”
“Understood.”
We stepped into the hallway. The dorm was quieter now. We walked down the stairs side by side, not speaking.
Outside, the night air bit at my face. Cold and sharp. Liam started walking toward the bridge, and I fell into step beside him, half a pace behind.
I watched the way he moved. Confident stride. Hands shoved in his hoody pockets. Shoulders relaxed despite what we were about to do.
The wind shifted and I caught it—his scent. Soap and deodorant.
It hit me like a wave.
Brackett Lake. Those early mornings at the marina before our shifts started. Before the sun got too hot and we got sweaty from hauling fuel lines and cleaning pontoon boats. Just the two of us happy to see each other.
Back when we just wanted to get closer to each other because there was nothing in the way. So close that I could smell exactly this, his soap, his sweat—just Liam.
I imagined what it would be like if this was normal. If we were just... together. Boyfriends. Walking back to my dorm after hanging out with Noah. Not hiding. Not calculating risk. Just existing in the same space without it meaning the end of everything.
Going to parties together. Studying in the library. Him waiting for me after practice. Me waiting for him.
Normal things. Simple things. Things I’d never have.
Neither of us said anything, but as we crossed back toward Kingswell—toward the building we were about to break into—I felt the weight of what we were doing settle over me.
This was real.
And there was no going back.