Something had shifted between them. Perhaps the end of their hushed, stolen kisses and late-night whispers had been long overdue. Maybe his boyfriend had finally grown tired of his cowardice. Or maybe Braxton’s charm, kisses, and empty promises just weren’t enough anymore. Either way, things had changed. The once loving, endlessly patient boyfriend who tolerated Braxton’s selfish need for secrecy was gone. Their secrecy had started all because Braxton was terrified of being seen as a homosexual. Worse, a homosexual dating the "weirdo" of their class. He was terrified that even a single glimpse of the truth would shatter his carefully built image as the campus golden boy. It would ruin everything he had worked so hard for—his career, his image, his father’s trust. Now his boyfriend took longer to reply to his texts and often turned down even the shortest meet-ups. It pained Braxton more than he dared to admit. The final nail in the coffin came a few days ago when Amanda, a girl from his friend group, pulled him into a kiss. Braxton had wanted to push her away the second he saw his boyfriend watching. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not with everyone around. Not when he knew they were all rooting for him and Amanda. The campus football star and the campus sweetheart—the perfect couple, they said. So instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her back. When his friends mocked his boyfriend for staring, Braxton forced himself to join in. "What are you looking at?" he sneered. "Creep." He couldn’t even remember if that was exactly what he said. In his memory, it was much, much crueler. Now, he waited alone in the nearly empty parking lot of a small diner where his boyfriend worked part-time. He’d often picked him up on his motorcycle after work—when his friends didn’t drag him off to yet another party. The diner was located far from campus. No students who'd recognize Braxton ever came here. He remembered once asking why he’d chosen a part-time job so far away. His boyfriend's answer had been simple: "So that we could spend more time together," he’d said with a grin. "Since nobody we know would be there." Every decision his boyfriend ever made had always been for Braxton. Yet, everything Braxton decided on had always been for himself. He was a selfish prick. He knew that. And so, even if he’d wanted to convince his boyfriend not to take that job back then, he’d stopped himself. The door chimed, snapping him out of his trance and Braxton’s ears immediately perked up. Leaning against his motorcycle, he waved—a lopsided, boyish grin breaking across his lips, dimples showing—as if nothing had happened. "About time, babe," he called out, pushing himself off the motorcycle. "You trying to make me miss you more or what?"