SOULMATE(s) - 7. Things He Had No Right to Feel

Sunday morning began with the smell of toast and coffee drifting up the stairs.

Nick woke slowly, still tangled in his blanket, and lay still for several seconds while the previous day returned to him in pieces. Luke’s bedroom. The chocolate milk waiting beside the worksheets. The blue shirt Luke had asked him to choose and then refused to wear. Sunny dropping a red ball at Nick’s feet. Kit laughing beside him on the couch. Two messages arriving within minutes of each other that evening, each from a boy Nick had spent far too long thinking about before finally falling asleep.

His phone rested facedown on the nightstand.

Nick reached for it before he was fully awake.

There were no new messages from Luke or Kit, which should have been a relief. Instead, the empty screen left him faintly disappointed in two different directions.

He placed the phone down again and stared at the ceiling.

This was becoming a problem.

Downstairs, his mother called that breakfast was ready. Nick forced himself out of bed, changed into a clean T-shirt and jeans, and ran his fingers through his hair until it looked slightly less like he had spent the night fighting his pillow.

His parents were already seated when he reached the kitchen. His father had the Sunday newspaper spread beside his plate, though he seemed more interested in his coffee than anything printed on the pages. His mother was buttering toast and looking through a grocery list she had written on the back of an envelope.

“You’re up early,” she said.

“It’s almost ten.”

“For a Sunday, that’s early for you.”

Nick sat down and reached for the plate of scrambled eggs.

“You’re going to Will’s today, right?” his father asked.

Nick nodded. “We’re watching a movie.”

“With Leah?”

“And Tobey.”

His mother smiled in a way Nick immediately distrusted.

“You and Leah spend a lot of time together.”

“We all spend time together.”

“I know. I’m just saying.”

Nick concentrated on his breakfast. His parents had spent years quietly deciding that Leah would eventually become his girlfriend, despite Nick denying it every time the subject came up. They seemed to believe his objections were part of some private teenage romance neither of them had the patience to acknowledge.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said.

His mother spread jam across her toast.

“I didn’t say she was.”

“You were thinking it.”

His father lowered the newspaper, amused.

“You sound very certain.”

“She always thinks it.”

“I think Leah is lovely,” his mother said. “That’s all.”

“She is.”

The answer seemed to satisfy her more than it should have.

Nick finished eating before the conversation could become worse. He carried his plate to the sink, told them he would be home before dinner, and went upstairs to collect his phone and a light jacket.

The monthly movie day at Will’s house had begun in eighth grade, when Will’s parents bought a television large enough that he declared his living room had become a private cinema. The television lasted less than a year before developing a permanent blue line down the center of the screen, but the tradition remained. Once a month, usually on a Sunday, Leah, Tobey, and Nick gathered at Will’s house with snacks and argued over which movie to watch until enough time had passed that they could have finished one already.

The blue-lined television had eventually been replaced, but Will now preferred using his laptop because he claimed the sound was better through the speakers in his room.

Nick had never understood this argument. The laptop was smaller, the speakers produced a faint buzzing sound whenever the volume rose too high, and someone always ended up sitting on the floor.

Still, movie day belonged to Will, so no one questioned the arrangement anymore.

By the time Nick arrived, Leah and Tobey were already there. Will’s bedroom door stood open, and their voices carried down the hallway.

“We are not watching another three-hour Avatar movie,” Leah said.

“It’s an important film,” Will replied.

“So was the last one.”

“You fell asleep before anything important happened.”

“I fell asleep because nothing important happened.”

Nick stepped into the room.

Will sat cross-legged near the head of the bed with his laptop balanced on a stack of textbooks. Tobey occupied the desk chair, while Leah had claimed the floor cushion nearest the foot of the bed and surrounded herself with two bags of chips.

She looked up the moment Nick entered.

“There he is.”

Something in her tone made Nick stop near the doorway.

“Hi.”

Will closed the movie-selection window.

Nick glanced at the screen.

“Why did you close that?”

“Because the movie can wait.”

Leah patted the cushion beside her.

“Sit.”

Nick remained standing.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

He did.

He placed his jacket on the back of the chair and lowered himself onto the floor. Tobey gave him a sympathetic look that did not offer nearly enough protection.

Will leaned forward.

“So?”

Nick looked between them.

“So what?”

“What happened yesterday?”

Nick opened one of the chip bags, though it was already open.

“We studied.”

Leah’s expression remained flat.

“For two hours?”

“Yes.”

“With Luke Finley?”

“Yes.”

“In his bedroom?”

Nick looked toward Tobey.

Tobey lifted both hands. “I only told them where you were.”

“You told them that part?”

“You said it yourself.”

“I didn’t know you were taking notes.”

Leah shifted closer.

“Nick.”

He lowered his gaze to the bag in his lap.

“Nothing happened.”

Will looked disappointed.

“Nothing at all?”

“We did math.”

“That sounds unnatural,” Will said.

“It was tutoring.”

Leah ignored him.

“Was he weird with you?”

Nick thought of Luke sitting close enough that their knees kept touching. He thought of the pencil Luke had taken from his hand, the shirt held against his chest, and the way Luke had asked how long Nick planned to stay at Kit’s house afterward.

“Not weird.”

Leah waited.

Nick picked at the folded edge of the chip bag.

“He was a little flirty, maybe.”

Will sat up straighter.

Leah did not move at all.

“A little flirty how?” she asked.

Nick’s face warmed.

“I don’t know.”

“You do know.”

“He kept sitting close. And teasing me.”

“Luke teases everyone,” Will said.

Nick nodded quickly. “Exactly.”

Leah glanced at Will. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m establishing context.”

Nick looked toward the laptop.

“Can we start the movie?”

“No,” Leah and Will said together.

Tobey covered a smile with his hand.

Nick sighed quietly.

“He borrowed my pencil even though he had his own. He asked which shirt I liked. He kept asking about what I was doing later.”

Leah’s eyebrows rose.

“He asked you to choose his clothes?”

“Not exactly.”

“That sounds exactly like what you said.”

“He held up two shirts.”

“And then?”

“He put them back.”

Will frowned. “So he didn’t wear either one?”

“No.”

“That’s inefficient.”

Leah gave him a look.

Will leaned back against the wall. “I’m just saying.”

Nick set the chip bag aside.

“I know it probably doesn’t mean anything. He likes attention, and he jokes around with everyone. I’m not trying to get my hopes up.”

The last sentence came out more quietly than he intended.

Leah’s expression softened, though the concern remained.

“We just don’t know what he wants.”

“Neither do I.”

“That’s what worries me.”

Nick looked down at his hands.

Leah pulled one knee closer to her chest.

“He might not even be doing it consciously,” she said. “Maybe he likes knowing you’re attracted to him. Maybe it makes him feel good, so he keeps pushing a little farther to see how much attention you’ll give him.”

Will nodded. “And then the minute you actually fall for him, he could pull away.”

Nick’s stomach tightened.

Leah continued more gently.

“Or he could meet another girl, stop flirting with you, and act like none of it ever happened. He wouldn’t even have to think of it as cruel. He might just decide the joke is over.”

Nick had already imagined that possibility.

More than once.

He had imagined Luke arriving in class with a new girlfriend, placing his arm around her in the hallway, and looking at Nick as though the private jokes and lingering touches had never existed. He had imagined Luke becoming uncomfortable the moment Nick’s feelings stopped being flattering and became real.

The thoughts frightened him because they seemed entirely possible.

“I know,” Nick said.

Leah studied him.

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“You still like him.”

Nick hesitated.

“A little.”

Will made a doubtful sound.

Nick looked at him.

“More than a little,” Will corrected.

Nick did not argue.

Tobey had been quiet through most of the conversation, listening from the desk chair with one ankle resting over his knee. He glanced at Nick, then at Leah and Will.

“What about the afternoon?”

Nick’s head lifted.

Leah turned toward Tobey. Will spoke at exactly the same time. “What afternoon?”

The movie on the laptop was forgotten completely.

Nick stared at Tobey.

“You didn’t have to say that.”

“You were going to tell them eventually.”

“I wasn’t.”

“That would have been difficult.”

Leah moved even closer. “What happened in the afternoon?”

“Nothing happened.”

Will pointed toward him.

“You always say that immediately before describing something.”

Nick rubbed one hand over his face.

“I went to Kit’s house.”

Silence settled across the room.

Leah blinked.

“Kit O’Connell?”

Nick nodded.

Will looked at Tobey as though waiting for confirmation that he had heard correctly.

Tobey gave a small nod.

“Why did you go to Kit O’Connell’s house?” Leah asked.

“To meet his cat.”

Will’s expression became deeply serious.

“Is that what they’re calling it now?”

Nick looked at him. “It was actually his cat.”

“Okay.”

“A gray cat named Sunny.”

“Very convincing.”

“Will.”

“I believe you.”

His tone suggested the opposite.

Leah reached over and pushed Will’s shoulder.

“Let him talk.”

Nick drew a slow breath.

“It started in chemistry. Kit showed me a picture of Sunny, and then a video of him playing fetch.”

Leah frowned. “The cat plays fetch?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not the important part,” Will said.

“It’s unusual.”

Nick continued before they became distracted. “Kit asked whether I liked dogs or cats. I said cats. Then he invited me over to meet Sunny.”

“And you went?” Leah asked.

“After tutoring.”

Will leaned forward again.

“You spent the morning with Luke Finley and the afternoon with Kit O’Connell?”

Nick’s face warmed. “When you say it like that, it sounds strange.”

“There is no normal way to say it.”

Nick ignored him and described the afternoon as simply as possible. He told them about arriving early, Kit opening the door in surprise, and Sunny meeting him in the hallway with a red ball in his mouth. He explained how the cat had played fetch, climbed into his lap, and attempted to manipulate him into sharing pepperoni.

He told them about the pizza and Mario Kart.

He left out some things.

He did not describe the way Kit had watched him play with Sunny or how the entire room had seemed to brighten whenever Kit smiled. He did not mention Kit saying he liked Nick when Nick was comfortable. Those moments felt too private to hand over for examination.

Even without them, Leah and Will listened with increasing disbelief.

“You stayed until after five?” Leah asked.

Nick nodded.

“And his parents weren’t there?”

“They were away for the day.”

Will stared at him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, my friend.”

Nick pulled one knee closer to his chest. “I’m not playing any games. I just… go along with whatever.”

The admission sounded helpless even to him.

No one laughed.

Leah’s expression softened completely. She shifted across the carpet and wrapped both arms around him.

Nick stiffened in surprise before relaxing into the hug.

“We just don’t want you to get hurt again,” she said.

The words pressed against a place Nick usually avoided touching.

Again.

She did not mean romance. There had never been anyone before Luke or Kit, not really. She meant everything that had happened after Jack outed him. The whispers, the jokes, the hands pushing him into lockers, and the months Nick spent entering every room already braced for something humiliating.

His friends had seen how long it took him to feel safe again.

“I know,” Nick said quietly.

Leah held him for another second before letting go.

Will’s expression had lost its usual humor.

“We’re not saying you can’t like either of them,” he said. “Just be careful.”

“I am.”

Tobey looked at him.

“You’re trying to be.”

Nick managed a small smile.

“That too.”

Leah sat back on her cushion.

“So Kit invited you over himself?”

“Yes.”

“And he messaged you afterward?”

Nick hesitated.

Her eyes narrowed.

“What did he say?”

“That he had a good time. And that Sunny missed me.”

Will placed both hands against his face.

“This is too much. I’m dying from cuteness overload.”

Nick looked toward the laptop.

“Can we watch the movie now?”

Leah picked up the laptop.

“Yes.”

Will took the laptop from Leah and opened the movie window again.

“But I’m choosing.”

“No,” Leah said. “You’ve lost that privilege.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You suggested a three-hour movie.”

“It’s an epic movie.”

“It has no points whatsoever. Plus everyone is blue and looks the same.”

While they argued, Nick leaned back against the side of the bed and glanced at Tobey.

Tobey met his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

Nick nodded.

It was not entirely true, but it was close enough.

They eventually chose a comedy none of them had seen. Leah laughed too loudly, Will kept identifying songs in the soundtrack, and Tobey predicted the ending within the first twenty minutes. Nick let the familiar noise settle around him.

For a while, Luke and Kit became less complicated. They were only two boys from school.

The illusion lasted until Monday morning…

Nick arrived slightly later than usual, with only seven minutes remaining before the first bell. The main corridor was crowded with students moving between lockers, and the noise echoed from every direction: doors slamming, shoes against the polished floor, someone calling across the hallway as though the person they wanted was several miles away rather than twenty feet.

Nick kept his head down and moved through the crowd.

His locker was near the intersection between the science wing and the staircase leading toward the gym. As he approached, he saw Kit standing several lockers away with Kent and Ken.

Two girls stood with them.

Nick recognized both from the junior class, though he did not know their names. One had long dark hair and wore a cheerleading jacket over her uniform shirt. The other was blond, with silver bracelets stacked around one wrist.

They were both smiling.

Not ordinary polite smiles.

The dark-haired girl rested one hand on Kit’s forearm while speaking. Kit looked down at her, listening with the calm attention he gave almost everyone. The blond girl stood close to one of the twins—Ken, perhaps, though Nick had never learned how to tell them apart without hearing their names first—and kept touching his shoulder whenever she laughed.

The twin did not seem bothered.

Neither did Kit.

The dark-haired girl moved her hand higher along Kit’s arm, squeezing lightly as she said something Nick could not hear. Kit smiled.

His freckles became more visible.

The whole hallway seemed to brighten around him.

But Nick’s stomach twisted into a tight, immediate knot. He looked away. There was no reason for the reaction. None at all.

Kit was not his boyfriend. Kit was barely his friend. They had spent one afternoon together eating pizza and playing video games. Kit had invited him because he liked animals, not because he liked Nick in any special way.

Nick had carried a crush on him quietly for years. That did not give him ownership over Kit’s attention. It did not give him the right to feel betrayed whenever a pretty girl touched his arm.

Kit was straight.

He was allowed to date girls.

He was allowed to flirt with girls.

Nick repeated each fact as he reached his locker and turned the combination dial.

The numbers blurred.

He started over.

Behind him, one of the girls laughed again. Nick heard Kit’s voice answer, followed by one of the twins saying something that made the group laugh louder.

Nick opened the locker too quickly and nearly struck himself with the door.

He collected his Algebra II book, pushed another folder onto the shelf, and closed the locker without checking whether he had everything he needed.

Do not look again.

He looked again.

Kit was still smiling at the dark-haired girl. She had both hands around his forearm now, leaning closer while she spoke. Nick turned away before Kit could notice him watching. He walked toward class with his book held tightly against his chest.

By the time he reached Algebra II, he had almost convinced himself the feeling would pass.

It did not.

Luke was already seated near the back of the room, one foot hooked around the leg of the empty chair beside him. He moved it when Nick approached.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

Nick sat down and opened his notebook.

Luke watched him.

Nick could feel it without looking.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Luke leaned slightly closer.

“You look upset.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re doing the thing.”

Nick glanced at him. “What thing?”

“The quiet thing.”

“I’m usually quiet.”

“Not like this. And not with me.”

Nick looked down at his notebook again.

Luke was right, which made the observation more uncomfortable. Nick did not want to explain what he had seen in the hallway. Saying it aloud would make the jealousy real, and he had no right to make it real.

Mr. Daley entered and began writing the warm-up problem on the board.

Luke did not stop watching Nick.

“Did someone say something to you?”

“No.”

“Jack?”

Nick shook his head.

Luke’s expression tightened briefly.

“Then what?”

Nick opened his textbook.

“It’s nothing important.”

Luke remained quiet.

For a moment, Nick thought he had let it go. Then Luke shifted in his seat, lowering one hand beneath the shared desk.

His fingers touched the back of Nick’s hand.

Nick froze.

The contact was gentle, almost tentative. Luke did not grab him or lace their fingers together. He simply rested his hand over Nick’s for a second, warm and steady, as though checking whether Nick would allow it.

Nick looked toward him.

Luke’s expression held none of his usual teasing. He seemed concerned.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Luke whispered. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Nick’s heartbeat became painfully loud.

Straight friends did not hold hands beneath desks.

Did they?

Perhaps they did. Football players touched one another constantly—shoulders, arms, backs, even heads after games. Luke might not think anything of it.

But this was different.

There was no crowd around them. No celebration. No joke. Just Luke’s hand resting over his.

Nick pulled away.

The movement was quiet but immediate. Luke’s fingers remained beneath the desk for a moment before he withdrew them. Something uncertain crossed his face.

Nick felt guilty at once.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Luke shook his head.

“Don’t be.”

Mr. Daley turned toward the class and began explaining the problem. Around them, notebooks opened and pencils moved. Nick stared at the equation without understanding a single number. Beside him, Luke remained closer than usual, though he did not touch him again. Nick’s thoughts divided in every direction.

Kit smiling while a girl held his arm.

Luke looking genuinely concerned.

The warmth of Luke’s hand over his.

The warmth of Kit’s message from Saturday night.

Nick had spent years believing that the worst part of liking straight boys was knowing nothing could ever happen.

He had been wrong.

The worst part was when something almost seemed to.