Chapter 1 #3
Staring at the glittering letters, a strange mix of anxiety and defiance bubbling in my chest.
"Put it on," Sylas repeats, softer this time. "Be too much. Be exactly who you are."
After a long moment, I slip the top on, the fabric stretching tight across my back. The words NURSE HOTTIE are now announced to the world.
Sylas steps back, admiring his handiwork. "Perfect." He turns me toward the mirror. "Look at yourself, Ethan. Really look."
I do. The glitter on my cheekbones catches the light, making my eyes look bigger and more intense. The tight scrubs show off a body I've been working on without noticing the changes. I look... different. Confident, maybe. Or at least like someone who could be.
"Wow," I breathe.
"Wow, is right." Sylas squeezes my shoulders. "If Asshat von Fuckface doesn't lose his mind when he sees you, he's either blind or straight, and we know he's neither."
The unexpected laugh relaxes muscles I didn't even know were tight. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet." He hands me my phone. "Promise you'll call if things go sideways. I'm going out too, but keep me on standby."
"It won't go sideways," I say, trying to convince myself as much as him. "This time, it's different."
Sylas gives me a long look. "I hope you're right." He checks his watch. Now go. It's almost eight, and we can't have you be late for his coming-out party."
"It's not a coming out—"
"Figure of speech. Go be fabulous."
I grab my keys and wallet, pausing at the door. "Seriously, Sy. Thank you."
"Yeah, yeah. Remember who made you look this good when the boys are drooling over you.”
My eyes roll, but I don't hold in the smile that spreads across my face.
But as I head out into the cool October night, Sy's words linger in my mind, along with the glitter on my face and the letters blazed across my back.
Thompson Field has been transformed into a Halloween carnival, orange lights strung between booths and "Monster Mash" blaring from speakers. I check my phone: 7:58. I'm early, but my nerves won't let me be fashionably late.
The confidence Sylas instilled is already fading, replaced by self-consciousness as I tug at my tight scrub top. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I should have gone with something more subtle.
"Ethan? Oh my god, you look amazing!"
Turning to find Jessica from my pediatrics rotation, dressed as what appears to be a sexy vaccination, complete with a giant syringe headband.
"Thanks," I manage, surprised by her enthusiasm.
"Nurse Hottie is RIGHT." She circles me, laughing appreciatively. "Damn, all those morning workouts paid off. You look incredible!"
Her friends nod in agreement, one of them pulling out his phone. "We need a picture for the nursing group chat. Everyone's going to die."
Before I can protest, Jessica throws her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close for a selfie. The flash goes off twice.
"Perfect. This is going on Instagram, too. I hope that's okay?"
I nod, a small part of me hoping Ryan might see it. This is proof that other people see me and appreciate me.
"Are you here with anyone?" Jessica asks, her eyes curious.
"Yeah, meeting someone at eight." The words come out more confident than I feel.
"Lucky them," she says with a wink. "We'll be walking around all night if you'd like to join us later."
Waving as they head off, their compliments ease some of my nervousness. Maybe the outfit wasn't a mistake after all.
At ten after eight, I finally spot him walking in the west entrance. My heart does that stupid flutter again, but a sinking feeling quickly follows it.
Ryan Lane stands slightly apart from the crowd, hands in his pockets, wearing jeans and that distinctive navy hoodie with the faded PC University logo I've seen him wear a hundred times.
A generic red devil mask, the kind you'd grab from a drugstore Halloween display at the last minute, covers his entire face.
He's completely unrecognizable to anyone else. I only know it's him because I'd recognize that hoodie anywhere.
I approach slowly, my initial excitement curdling into something heavier. He doesn't move to meet me, doesn't reach for me. His body language is closed off, and even through the mask, I can tell the second he notices my glitter and tight scrubs.
"What are you wearing?" he asks instead of saying hello, his voice slightly muffled by the mask.
No "you look great" or "I missed you." Just criticism.
"Scrubs," I answer, fighting to keep my voice neutral.
He looks around nervously, though no one can possibly know who he is. "You're just... really noticeable."
The word lands like a slap. Of course. That's the problem. I'm visible. I'm seen. I'm everything he doesn't want to be associated with.
"That's the point of Halloween," I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice. "To stand out."
"Yeah, well." He shifts his weight. "I didn't realize you'd be so... much."
My mouth opens to respond when a group of guys walks past us, their voices loud and familiar. My stomach drops as I recognize them, Ryan's friends, including his roommate, Russ. They're all in matching togas, laughing and shoving each other.
Ryan goes completely still beside me, his head turning slightly away.
One of them, I think his name is Brett, glances our way, eyes sliding over both of us without a flicker of recognition. The group passes without slowing, without a single acknowledgment.
And Ryan's shoulders visibly relax.
That's when it hits me. This isn't progress. This isn't him taking steps toward coming out. This is just another version of hiding, more elaborate than before. He's not here with me; he's here with some anonymous guy he can't be connected to.
"So this is what you meant by 'together,'" I say quietly once his friends are out of earshot. "You hiding behind a mask while I make a fool of myself?"
"It's Halloween," Ryan says defensively. "Everyone's in costume."
"You're not in costume," I point out. "You're in disguise. There's a difference."
He sighs, reaching for my hand and pulling me toward a quieter area between booths. Only now, when no one's watching, does he touch me.
"Barrett, come on." His voice softens, thumb stroking over my knuckles. "Don't make this into something it's not."
"What is it, then?" I ask, hating how my body still responds to his touch, even as anger builds inside me.
"It's us hanging out. Together. Like you wanted." He tugs me closer, his other hand finding my waist. Even with the mask between us, I can feel his breath. "You look hot, by the way. I just wasn't expecting all... this."
He gestures vaguely at my glitter, my outfit, everything Sylas worked so hard on.
"I wanted to look good," I say, my voice small.
"You always look good to me." His hand slides lower, resting just above my ass. "Especially in these pants. Turn around, let me see."
I step back, breaking his hold. "No. This isn't—" I take a breath, steadying myself. "This isn't what I thought tonight would be."
"What did you think it would be?" There's genuine confusion in his voice, which somehow makes it worse.
"I thought it meant something that you wanted to be seen with me in public." Saying that out loud makes me feel stupid and awkward. "But you're still hiding."
"I told you, I need time. My family—"
"Isn't here," I finish. "Your family isn't at a college Halloween carnival. But your friends are, and you still won't even acknowledge me around them."
Ryan's shoulders stiffen. "You knew the deal when we started this."
The words sting because they're true. I did know, I've always known, but I kept hoping things would change.
"Yeah," I say finally. "I guess I did."
Something in my tone must alert him because he steps closer, hands coming up to frame my face. Even with the mask, I can picture his expression, that soft, pleading look that always breaks my resolve.
"Barrett, Baby," he says, voice dropping to a low tone that weakens my knees. "Don't be mad. I'm trying here. This is me trying."
I want to laugh. I want to cry. I want to tear that stupid devil mask off his face and force him to look me in the eyes while he feeds me these lines.
Instead, I take a step back.
"I'm going to get something to drink," I say, needing space, needing air. "I'll meet you by the Ferris wheel in ten minutes."
"Ethan—" he reaches for me, but I'm already turning away.
"Ten minutes," I repeat, not looking back.