Chapter 6 #2
"You shouldn't have to blend in,' with more feeling than expected. 'Besides, Delta Psi would be boring if everyone was the same.”
Something shifts in his expression, a softening around the eyes, a slight parting of lips. "That's... really nice to hear."
"Want to get some air?" My head nods toward the back porch.
Ethan nods, and I lead him through the house, hyperaware of him behind me. We head out to the back porch, where the cool October air feels nice after the hot, packed house. The string lights hanging from the awning cast everything in a soft glow.
We stand side by side at the railing, looking out into the darkness of the backyard. There's no one else out here, a rarity during parties.
"So," I start, then realize I have no idea what to say next. My usual confidence in conversation has abandoned me.
"So," Ethan echoes, a slight smile on his lips. "Tyler Landis, VP of Delta Psi Omega, rescuer of glittery nursing students in distress."
"That's me," I laugh, relieved by his playful tone. "Do you make a habit of needing rescue?"
"Only on Halloween," he grins. "Tonight was definitely an exception to my usual low-drama existence."
He leans a bit closer, his shoulder touching mine. Even that slight touch sends warmth through my arm, and I catch myself leaning into it instead of away. This is new to me, but with each passing minute, it feels less scary and more exciting.
Ethan's phone buzzes. His smile grows as he looks at the screen. "It's Sylas, my best friend. He's freaking out because I'm at a frat house. Wants to make sure I'm not being hazed or something."
"Tell him to come over," I suggest, surprising myself with how much I want Ethan to stay. "The more friends, the better."
Ethan raises an eyebrow. "Sylas isn't exactly... frat-friendly. He's got history."
"We're full of surprises," I counter. "Give us a chance to change his mind."
Something softens in Ethan's expression as he types a reply. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you. He's in full Hedwig tonight. He's doing a show next week."
Before I can ask what that means, Ethan's phone rings. He answers with a laugh, "Yes, I'm fine! No, I'm not being held hostage. Yes, they really are inviting you..."
Thirty minutes later, we are back inside the packed living room when suddenly the crowd parts like the Red Sea, conversations dropping to whispers as all eyes turn toward the front entrance. I follow everyone's gaze to see a guy standing in the doorway, arms outstretched dramatically.
He's wearing a platinum blonde wig, the most intense eye makeup I've ever seen, platform boots that lace up to his thighs, and enough glitter to supply a craft store for months. Several fraternity brothers stand frozen, drinks halfway to their lips.
Holy shit. Is this... drag? Some kind of glam rock thing? I've seen guys in makeup at clubs before, but nothing this bold, this unapologetic. Especially not walking alone into a frat house. Whoever this guy is, he's got balls of steel.
I'm not sure if I should be concerned or impressed. The party has reached that tipping point where things could go either way; some of the guys from Epsilon Beta next door would react badly to this entrance. But this is my house, and in Delta Psi Omega, we don't do that shit.
"Has anyone seen my glittery little nursing student?" He announces to the room, voice carrying over the music. "I'm his emotional support drag queen!"
Gavin appears at my side, eyes wide with shock. "Uh, I think someone's looking for your nurse," he whispers.
Before I can respond, Ethan's face breaks into the biggest smile I've seen all night. He jumps up from his seat beside me and weaves through people while yelling. "That's Sylas!" His arms wave enthusiastically. "Over here!"
Ah, so this is the best friend. Suddenly, everything clicks. The glitter, the confidence, the way he's scanning the room like he's both ready for applause and prepared for a fight.
Ethan returns moments later with his arm wrapped around his friend's waist while Sylas scans the room suspiciously, one arm protectively around Ethan's shoulders.
"Holy shit," Emily breathes, materializing next to them. "Your makeup is INCREDIBLE!"
Sylas pauses, the suspicious scan of the room halting as he focuses on Emily. "Thanks. It's for—"
"Hedwig and the Angry Inch," Emily finishes, practically bouncing excitedly. "We're doing it next semester in the theatre department! Please tell me you'll help with the makeup design. Please!"
Just like that, Emily whisks Sylas away toward the kitchen, peppering him with questions about techniques and products, leaving Ethan standing there looking amused.
"Your girlfriend just kidnapped my best friend," Ethan tells Drew, who's appeared beside us.
Drew laughs. "She has that effect on people. Theatre majors, you know?" He wanders toward the kitchen, presumably to rescue Sylas from Emily's enthusiasm.
Ethan and I find ourselves alone again, and I don't want to waste a second of this chance to talk to him. The chaos of the party continues around us, but it might as well be happening in another room for all I notice.
"So—" I start to say, but I'm interrupted by a loud crash followed by chanting from the living room.
"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"
Ian appears in the doorway, swaying slightly. "Tyler! The pledges are doing the Cinnamon Challenge! Mark just snorted it instead, and now he's—"
On cue, a freshman in a Batman costume staggers past, face alarmingly red, making desperate gasping noises like a dying vacuum cleaner.
"Oh god," I mutter, grabbing Ethan's hand. "Let's get some air before Batman decorates the floor with all that nasty. Our porch has a strict no-vomit policy."
Ethan laughs as I lead him toward the back door. "Is that in your fraternity bylaws?"
"Article seven, section three, right after 'No lighting furniture on fire unless it's a sanctioned event.'"
We head out to the back porch, where the cool October air feels nice after the hot, packed house. The string lights hanging from the awning cast everything in a soft glow.
He turns to face me, leaning his hip against the railing. The movement brings him closer, and that electricity crackles between us again. "Seriously, though, thank you. Today could have ended a lot worse."
"Happy to help," I say, meaning it. "Though I should probably confess something."
Ethan tilts his head, curious. "What's that?"
I take a deep breath. "I've seen you around campus before. A lot, actually." The words tumble out before I can second-guess them. "At the library, in the quad. I may have been too nervous to say hi."
His eyes widen slightly. "You... noticed me? Before tonight?"
My head moves up and down while heat creeps up my face. "Hard not to."
There's a beat of silence as Ethan processes this information. I've never been this forward with a guy before. My heart hammers against my ribs, the weight of what I've just admitted hanging between us.
Dancing was one thing that could be played off as friends having fun, no matter how much I knew it was more. But this? This is me putting it on the line. No plausible deniability, no walking it back. I have been looking at him, and I want him to know.
What if he only wants something casual? What if he's not looking for someone who's just figuring out their sexuality? After what he went through with the ex, who could blame him for wanting someone with more experience, someone who's been out and confident for years?
Great job, Tyler. You managed to hide your feelings from everyone, including yourself, for years, and now you're about to blow it on Halloween while dressed as a psycho killer.
Nothing says "date me" like fake blood and excessive blood stains.
Maybe the costume is fitting, I'm practically bleeding out here.
But I don't want to be another guy who hides his feelings about Ethan. He deserves better than that. I've spent the whole night watching him light up this place, and I can't pretend I don't want more than just tonight.
Holding my breath, I wait for his response, trying to read the subtle shifts in his expression.
"Well," Ethan finally says, his voice softer, "I'm glad it took a horror house for us to meet. Even if my ex being an asshole was the catalyst."
"Silver linings,"
Behind us, through the window, I catch sight of Gavin throwing me an encouraging thumbs-up when Ethan isn't looking.
And for once, I don't mind my friend's interference.
After all, it led me here, standing under string lights with a boy who sparkles, feeling possibilities.
Possibilities that I want to become a reality.
When our hands brush against the railing, neither of us pulls away. The electric shock running up my arm confirms what I've suspected for months.
I'm incredibly attracted to this man.
"So," I say, my voice dropping lower as I turn to face him. "I've been wanting to do something since I first saw you in the quad."
"What's that?" he asks, and I watch his pulse quicken at his throat.
"This."
Stepping closer, I reach out to brush a fleck of glitter from his cheek. My fingers linger, savouring the warmth of his skin. I lean in slowly, giving him every chance to back away if he wants to.
But he doesn't move.
When our lips meet, it's like completing a circuit I didn't know was broken.
I start soft, testing, but something ignites between us.
My hand slides to cup his jaw as he grips the front of my shirt, pulling me closer.
The world narrows down to just this: his lips against mine, the slight taste of beer, the scent of his cologne.
The sliding door crashes open with a bang, shattering our moment.
"Tyler, we need, OH SHIT!" Cameron freezes mid-step, red cup in hand, eyes comically wide.