Chapter 16 Summer Heat
The Hottest Week
By the middle of July, the campus felt like it had been placed beneath a giant glass roof.
The temperature had climbed steadily for days, and the usual summer warmth had become something heavier. The air felt thick before breakfast, the sidewalks radiated heat by noon, and even the trees around campus seemed tired.
The university had issued several notices asking students to stay hydrated and avoid unnecessary outdoor activity during the hottest part of the afternoon.
Classes continued anyway.
Ethan stood outside the science building one morning, holding a bottle of water against the back of his neck.
He was already sweating.
A few months earlier, that simple fact would have controlled his entire morning.
He would have checked his shirt.
He would have wondered whether anyone nearby had noticed.
He would have calculated how long he could sit in a classroom before needing to leave.
He would have worried about whether the heat would make his natural scent more noticeable.
Instead, he took another drink of water and looked at the clock.
Ryan was supposed to meet him in five minutes.
Ethan smiled.
The thought of Ryan had become the first thing he noticed most mornings.
That still surprised him.
Not long ago, Ethan had woken up thinking about how to hide.
Now he woke up thinking about whether Ryan would be waiting outside his first class.
The difference felt enormous.
Ryan appeared at the end of the walkway wearing a loose T-shirt and carrying two bottles of water.
He spotted Ethan and smiled.
"You look hot."
Ethan laughed.
"So do you."
Ryan walked closer.
"I'm blaming the weather."
"Good."
Ryan handed him one of the bottles.
"I brought this for you."
Ethan accepted it.
"Thanks."
They started walking toward the building.
Ryan was sweating too.
Ethan noticed.
He also noticed that Ryan didn't seem embarrassed.
That was something they had learned together.
Sweating wasn't a confession.
It wasn't an apology.
It was simply something their bodies did.
Inside the building, the air-conditioning was working badly.
The hallway was only slightly cooler than outside.
Students were fanning themselves with notebooks, complaining about the heat.
Ethan smiled as he watched one student walk past with a portable fan clipped to his backpack.
"This campus is falling apart."
Ryan laughed.
"I think the air-conditioning system gave up on life."
They reached the classroom.
Ethan took his usual seat beside Ryan.
He pulled out his notebook.
Then he stopped.
For a moment, an old thought appeared.
Was his shirt getting damp?
Had Ryan noticed?
Was anyone sitting behind him close enough to smell him?
The questions came automatically.
But before they could grow, Ethan caught himself.
He looked at Ryan.
Ryan was opening his notebook.
He wasn't staring at Ethan.
He wasn't judging him.
He wasn't checking anything.
Ethan took a slow breath.
The thought passed.
That was new.
He hadn't needed to fight it.
He had simply noticed it and let it go.
During the lecture, the room became warmer.
The professor continued speaking while students shifted in their seats.
Ethan could feel sweat gathering along his back and forehead.
Normally, he would have become distracted.
Today, he continued taking notes.
He still noticed the heat.
He still wished the room were cooler.
But he wasn't terrified of his own body.
That distinction mattered.
After class, Ryan stretched.
"Want lunch?"
"Absolutely."
They walked across campus together.
The sun was bright overhead.
Ethan's shirt clung slightly to his back.
He noticed it.
Then he kept walking.
Ryan glanced at him.
"You're quiet."
"I'm thinking."
"About?"
Ethan smiled.
"How strange this feels."
Ryan understood immediately.
"You mean the heat?"
"The heat too."
Ryan waited.
Ethan looked at him.
"I used to hate weather like this."
"I know."
"I would spend the entire day thinking about whether I was sweating."
Ryan nodded.
"And now?"
Ethan looked down at himself.
"I'm sweating."
Ryan laughed.
"Excellent observation."
Ethan laughed too.
"But I'm not panicking."
Ryan smiled.
"That's progress."
They reached the cafeteria.
It was crowded and warm.
Ethan expected his old anxiety to return.
Instead, he found a table near an open window and sat down.
Ryan sat beside him.
They ate lunch while talking about their classes.
At one point, Ryan wiped his forehead with a napkin.
Ethan noticed.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Too hot?"
"Definitely."
Ethan smiled.
He realized something.
Ryan hadn't asked whether he smelled.
He hadn't asked whether his shirt looked bad.
He hadn't apologized.
Neither had Ethan.
They were just two people trying to survive an unpleasant summer afternoon.
After lunch, they headed toward the athletic center.
Ethan had swim training later.
The pool area was humid, and the combination of chlorine, heat, and physical activity made him sweat before practice had properly begun.
He changed into his training clothes.
For years, this had been the part of his day he dreaded most.
Now it felt different.
He still carried spare shirts.
He wasn't ready to abandon every habit he had developed over the years.
But the spare shirts were practical now.
They weren't emergency supplies for hiding.
That distinction made him smile.
During practice, Ethan pushed himself hard.
The water cooled his skin, but once he climbed out, heat rushed back over him.
His teammates were equally exhausted.
Everyone was sweating.
Everyone was tired.
Nobody seemed particularly interested in anyone else's body.
Ethan stood near the pool with a towel around his shoulders.
He waited for the old anxiety.
It didn't come.
He looked toward the viewing area.
Ryan was there.
He gave Ethan a small wave.
Ethan smiled and waved back.
Then he realized something.
He hadn't wondered whether Ryan could smell him.
The thought simply hadn't occurred to him.
Ethan stood still.
That realization was almost startling.
For so long, he had monitored himself constantly.
Was he sweating?
Did he smell?
Was someone looking?
Was someone moving away?
Was his shirt too damp?
Was his face too red?
Was Ryan uncomfortable?
He had built entire routines around those questions.
Now he couldn't remember the last time he had asked himself one of them.
After practice, he showered and changed.
He walked out of the locker room and found Ryan waiting.
"You survived."
"Barely."
Ryan smiled.
"Food?"
"Always."
They headed toward the student center.
Halfway there, Ethan realized his hair was still damp.
His shirt was already becoming slightly warm against his skin.
He didn't care.
He kept walking.
Ryan reached for his hand.
Ethan took it.
They walked through the crowded campus together.
A group of students passed them.
Someone laughed loudly.
Another student complained about the heat.
A bicycle bell rang nearby.
The campus continued around them.
Ethan looked at Ryan.
Ryan squeezed his hand.
"You okay?"
Ethan smiled.
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"Really."
Ryan looked pleased.
They kept walking.
Later that evening, they returned to the dorm.
The room was warm despite the fan running near the window.
Ryan dropped onto his bed.
"This is ridiculous."
Ethan laughed.
"I'm beginning to think we're living inside an oven."
Ryan sat up.
"At least we're suffering together."
Ethan smiled.
"Exactly."
He changed into a loose shirt and shorts.
Then he sat beside Ryan.
They talked until the sun disappeared.
The room remained warm.
Their skin remained damp.
Neither of them mentioned it.
Ethan leaned against Ryan.
For a moment, he remembered the person he had been months earlier.
The boy who had checked his clothes every few minutes.
The boy who had avoided sitting close to people.
The boy who had believed his body was something other people had the right to judge.
Ethan felt sorry for him.
But he didn't feel trapped by him anymore.
He looked at Ryan.
"Can I tell you something?"
Ryan turned toward him.
"Sure."
"I think I'm getting better."
Ryan smiled.
"At what?"
"Being me."
Ryan's expression softened.
"I think you are too."
Ethan rested his head against Ryan's shoulder.
Outside, the campus was still hot.
The weather hadn't changed.
His body hadn't changed.
The possibility of sweating hadn't disappeared.
What had changed was the meaning he gave it.
He didn't have to interpret every drop of sweat as evidence that something was wrong with him.
He didn't have to scan every face for disgust.
He didn't have to measure every interaction against the possibility of rejection.
And then Ethan realized something even more important.
He had stopped automatically checking whether Ryan had noticed him sweating.
He had stopped checking whether anyone else had noticed.
The habit had simply faded into the background.
For the first time, Ethan could feel his body doing what it naturally did without immediately wondering whether he needed to hide it.
The heat was still there.
The sweat was still there.
But the fear was no longer in charge.
Comfortable Together
Ryan had learned that some of the best moments with Ethan were the ones that required no plan.
They didn't need a crowded restaurant or a campus event. They didn't need to find somewhere impressive to go. Sometimes they simply needed a few hours away from everyone else.
That afternoon, they took the bus to a quiet park on the edge of town.
It was still hot.
The heat wave had not eased, and the sun seemed determined to remind everyone that summer wasn't finished with them yet.
Ryan carried a backpack with water, snacks, and two towels.
Ethan laughed when he saw it.
"You packed like we're going on an expedition."
Ryan looked at him.
"You complain when you're thirsty."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
Ethan smiled.
"Fine."
They found a shaded area beneath a large tree and spread one of the towels across the grass.
The park was quiet compared with campus.
A few families were farther away. An older couple walked along the path. Somewhere near the playground, children were laughing.
Nobody knew them.
Nobody cared who they were.
Nobody was watching their relationship.