Chapter 14 Ryan’s Secret #2
They walked toward a quieter path behind the building. Neither of them touched the other. The distance between them felt strange after everything they had shared.
They eventually sat on a bench beneath a large tree.
Ethan stared at his hands.
"I've been thinking about what you said."
Ryan remained quiet.
"The night we fought."
"I know."
"I didn't understand it then."
Ryan looked at him.
"Understand what?"
"Why it hurt you so much when I couldn't tell you I wasn't ashamed."
Ryan swallowed.
He had imagined this moment.
Still, hearing Ethan say it made his heart ache.
"I wasn't asking you to stop being afraid," Ryan said. "I was asking you to let me know whether you were afraid of people finding out or afraid of me."
Ethan immediately looked at him.
"You."
Ryan shook his head.
"I know."
Ethan took a slow breath.
"I was never afraid of you."
"I believe you."
"I was afraid of everything that could happen if people knew."
Ryan nodded.
"I understand."
Ethan looked at him.
"You always say that."
Ryan smiled faintly.
"I know."
"But I never really understood why."
Ryan looked down at his hands.
"Then maybe it's time I tell you."
Ethan became completely still.
Ryan had spent years avoiding this conversation.
Now there was no reason to run from it.
"When I was thirteen, I started sweating more than everyone else."
Ethan listened carefully.
"I didn't know why. I was playing sports, so at first I thought it was normal. But it kept happening. I'd sweat during class. I'd sweat during practice. Sometimes I'd be sitting still and my shirt would become damp."
Ryan gave a small, embarrassed laugh.
"I hated it."
Ethan didn't smile.
He simply listened.
"Other kids noticed."
Ryan remembered the first comment.
A boy had laughed and asked whether Ryan had run a marathon before coming to class.
Everyone had laughed.
Ryan had laughed too.
"I thought that was what you were supposed to do," he said. "If everyone laughs, you laugh with them."
Ethan's expression tightened.
"What happened after that?"
"It got worse."
Ryan looked toward the path.
"People started making jokes whenever I sweated. Sometimes they said I smelled. Sometimes they asked if I had showered. Once, someone opened a window when I sat down."
Ethan lowered his eyes.
Ryan continued.
"I remember pretending it didn't bother me."
"Did it?"
"More than I admitted."
His voice became quieter.
"I would go home and check myself in the mirror. I'd smell my shirt. I'd shower. Then I'd put on another shirt and worry that maybe that one smelled too."
Ethan looked at him with an expression Ryan couldn't quite identify.
Maybe recognition.
Maybe sadness.
"That's why you carry spare shirts."
Ryan nodded.
"That's why I used to carry three."
Ethan gave a small smile.
"I still carry three."
"I know."
For the first time, Ethan laughed.
It was quiet, but real.
Ryan smiled too.
Then the smile faded.
"I started changing myself because of those comments."
"How?"
"I became loud."
Ethan tilted his head.
Ryan gave a faint smile.
"I know that sounds strange."
"No."
"I started joking before anyone else could joke about me. If someone made a comment, I'd make a bigger joke. If someone teased me, I'd tease them back. I acted like nothing could embarrass me."
"And people believed you."
"Exactly."
Ryan leaned back.
"They thought I was confident. I wasn't. I was scared."
Ethan looked at him for a long moment.
"You hid it."
"Every day."
"Like me."
Ryan nodded.
"Like you."
The words stayed between them.
For a moment, Ryan didn't know what else to say.
Then Ethan asked, "Did anyone ever make you feel like you were disgusting?"
Ryan closed his eyes briefly.
"Yes."
The answer was difficult to say.
"Sometimes they didn't even use that word. They didn't have to. The jokes were enough."
He remembered sitting alone after practice.
He remembered classmates moving away.
He remembered someone spraying air freshener after he entered a room.
He remembered laughing when everyone else laughed.
Then going home and crying in the shower where nobody could hear him.
"I convinced myself it didn't matter," Ryan said. "But it changed how I behaved."
Ethan's eyes became wet.
Ryan noticed but didn't comment.
"I became careful about where I sat. I avoided crowded rooms. I stood near fans. I changed clothes constantly. I started believing people were always noticing me."
Ethan whispered, "That's exactly how I feel."
Ryan looked at him.
"I know."
This time Ethan didn't question it.
He understood.
Ryan could see the realization forming in his expression.
"I used to think confidence meant never being embarrassed," Ryan said. "Now I think it means knowing embarrassment doesn't decide who you are."
Ethan looked down.
"I haven't learned that yet."
"You will."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're already trying."
Ethan swallowed.
"I hurt you."
"Yes."
"I know."
Ryan nodded.
"You did."
Ethan's shoulders dropped.
"I was so afraid of what people would think that I forgot you were standing there."
Ryan didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, "That's what I was afraid of."
Ethan looked at him.
"Not that you were ashamed of me."
Ryan paused.
"I was afraid that eventually you would believe the things people had said about you."
Ethan's face changed.
Ryan continued.
"I was afraid you'd start thinking your body made you less worthy of being loved."
Ethan looked away.
"I've thought that for a long time."
"I know."
"And you knew because..."
"Because I've thought it too."
Silence settled between them.
This time, it wasn't uncomfortable.
It was honest.
Ethan finally turned toward him.
"So when you told me I didn't have to apologize for sweating..."
"I meant it."
"When you told me I didn't have to hide..."
"I meant that too."
"And when you said you understood..."
Ryan nodded.
"I wasn't saying it because I was trying to make you feel better."
Ethan's voice softened.
"You actually understood."
"Yes."
Ethan looked down at his hands again.
"I think that's what I didn't understand before."
Ryan waited.
"You weren't just being kind to me."
"No."
"You were telling me something about yourself."
Ryan smiled sadly.
"Yes."
Ethan's eyes filled with emotion.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Ryan thought about the question.
"Because I was scared."
Ethan looked surprised.
"Of me?"
"Of what you'd think."
Ryan laughed quietly.
"Funny, isn't it?"
"What?"
"We were both hiding the same thing because we were afraid the other person would see us differently."
Ethan smiled.
"That's not funny."
"No."
Ryan smiled back.
"It's actually pretty sad."
Ethan shifted closer.
Not enough to touch.
Just enough that Ryan noticed.
"I don't see you differently."
Ryan looked at him.
"I see you differently," Ethan continued. "But not because you're weak."
Ryan's throat tightened.
"I see you differently because now I know how much you've been carrying."
Ryan looked away for a moment.
He had spent years protecting himself from exactly this kind of conversation.
Yet sitting beside Ethan, he didn't feel exposed.
He felt understood.
Ethan reached across the space between them.
His hand rested on the bench, palm facing upward.
Ryan looked at it.
Then he placed his hand over Ethan's.
Neither of them spoke.
The simple contact felt more meaningful than the kisses they had shared before.
Ethan squeezed his fingers.
"I missed this."
Ryan's voice was quiet.
"Me too."
"I missed you."
Ryan looked at him.
"I missed you too."
The distance between them had been built from fear.
Now, little by little, it was disappearing.
Ethan leaned closer.
Ryan didn't move away.
Their shoulders touched.
Neither of them apologized.
Neither of them worried about what the other might notice.
For the first time since the photograph had appeared, Ryan felt like they were back in the same place emotionally.
Not exactly where they had been.
Some things had changed.
But perhaps that was okay.
They knew more about each other now.
They knew the painful parts.
They knew the insecurities.
They knew the memories neither of them had wanted anyone else to see.
And somehow, knowing those things made Ryan feel closer to Ethan rather than farther away.
Ethan looked at him.
"Thank you for telling me."
Ryan smiled.
"Thank you for listening."
"I wish you'd told me sooner."
"So do I."
Ethan leaned his head gently against Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan closed his eyes.
He didn't need to pretend.
He didn't need to be the confident one.
He didn't need to make a joke.
He could simply sit there with Ethan and let himself be known.
And Ethan finally understood why Ryan had always understood him.
It wasn't because Ryan had been better at handling shame.
It wasn't because Ryan was naturally confident.
It was because Ryan had lived through the same fear.
He had spent years believing his body was something he needed to hide.
He had built a confident personality over the wound and carried it everywhere.
Now Ethan knew the truth.
And instead of pulling away, he had moved closer.
For Ryan, that meant more than forgiveness.
It meant acceptance.
The kind he had once thought he would never receive.
Ryan looked down at Ethan resting against his shoulder.
He gently squeezed Ethan's hand.
Whatever happened next, he didn't want to hide from him again.
For the first time, Ryan understood that being truly known did not make him smaller.
It made the space between them disappear.
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