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Chapter 7: The Empty Classroom
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2026-04-23 09:00:27By Thursday, I’d started making deals with myself. If I got through the morning without looking for Tyler in the cafeteria, I could listen to music instead of doing revision on the walk home.
If I went an entire class without replaying the party in my head, I could skip one practice question in economics. If I made it to the end of the day without thinking I’m not gay like a prayer and a threat at the same time, then maybe I could stop acting like my own brain wa
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Denial before Surrender Chapter 7: The Empty Classroom
By Thursday, I’d started making deals with myself. If I got through the morning without looking for Tyler in the cafeteria, I could listen to music instead of doing revision on the walk home. If I went an entire class without replaying the party in my head, I could skip one practice question in economics. If I made it to the end of the day without thinking I’m not gay like a prayer and a threat at the same time, then maybe I could stop acting like my own brain was some kind of enemy operation. None of the deals worked. By lunch, I’d already seen him twice. Once in the senior corridor, once across the courtyard through the library windows and both times my body had done the same awful thing where it recognised him before the rest of me had a chance to object. So by the time last period ended, I was already in a bad mood. Which was probably why I volunteered to go looking for the missing business studies textbook Mr. Calder s
Denial before Surrender Chapter 6: Denial Looks a Lot Like Obsession
By Tuesday, I had developed a system. It wasn’t a good system. It wasn’t a healthy system. It definitely wasn’t a system I would’ve recommended to anyone else. But it was a system, which meant my brain could pretend it was handling things. Rule one: don’t think about the kiss. Rule two: if I did think about the kiss, immediately think about something else. Rule three: if that failed, think about Clair. This should’ve worked better than it did. I got to school early on purpose, mostly because I thought if I arrived before the corridors filled up, I could settle into the day before anything had the chance to get under my skin. The front entrance was still only half busy when I walked in, the floors newly cleaned and smelling faintly of disinfectant, morning light stretching through the tall windows in long pale bars. I made it exactly twenty seconds before seeing Tyler. He was at the far end of the corridor nea
Denial before Surrender Chapter 5: One Kiss Too Many
The car ride home should’ve been easy. Clair was in a good mood, half turned toward me in the passenger seat with one leg tucked under herself, talking about who had worn what, who had embarrassed themselves and who was definitely hooking up with who by the look of it. She was bright and animated in that effortless way she had when a night had gone well for her. The windows were cracked just enough to let cold air in, and the streetlights kept sliding across her face in gold and shadow as I drove. I answered when I had to. Laughed in the right places. Kept both hands on the wheel because if I let go, I had the stupid, impossible feeling I might reach for something that wasn’t there. “You’re quiet,” she said eventually. “I’m tired.” “It’s not even midnight.” “I had to listen to Tara explain why dancing on tables should count as self expression. That takes years off a person’s life.” Clair laughe
Denial before Surrender Chapter 4: Spin the Bottle
I should’ve left the second I saw the bottle. That’s the easiest version of the story to tell now. The clean one. The one where I stand up, laugh it off, drag Clair out with me, and spend the rest of the night making fun of Tara for having the emotional maturity of a fourteen year old with a lighter.Instead, I stayed. Partly because everyone else did. Partly because saying no in a room like that felt louder than saying yes. And partly because Clair had already tucked herself against my side on the rug, one hand resting on my knee like she’d made the decision for both of us.The living room lights were too warm, the music in the next room too loud, the air thick with that stale mix of sweat, cheap alcohol, and the sweet artificial smell of somebody’s fruit flavored vape. People crowded into a circle across the carpet and furniture, knees knocking, shoulders pressed together, everybody trying to look casual while obviously hoping for chaos.Tara stood in th
Denial before Surrender Chapter 3: Party Rule
By Friday afternoon, I had already said no to Tara three times.The first no happened before homeroom, when she cornered me at my locker and informed me that “attendance was mandatory” in the tone of someone announcing military service.The second happened at lunch, when she sat on the edge of our table, stole half my sandwich, and told Clair that if she didn’t come, she was personally sabotaging Emily's social standing.The third happened after final period, when she physically blocked the library doors with both arms spread and declared that if I tried to spend another Friday evening with revision notes instead of actual people, she was going to start telling everyone I cried during advertisements.Which wasn’t true. Mostly. I shifted my bag higher on my shoulder and stared at her. “Move.”“No.”“Tara.”“Clifford.”“You’re five foot nothing. This isn’t a real obstacle.”She narrowed her eyes. “And yet here you are, stopped.”Behind her, Leonard adjusted the strap of his satchel and
Denial before Surrender Chapter 2: Hallways and Glances
I liked routines because routines made promises. If I got up at the same time every morning, packed my bag the night before, checked my deadlines twice, and kept my notes in order, then things stayed manageable. Predictable. The world didn’t exactly become easy, but it became something I could sort, stack, and deal with.That was how I liked it. Tuesday started with a text from Clair before I’d even made it downstairs.Don’t let me see that ugly tie today. Wear the navy one.I stared at it for a second, then snorted to myself and swapped ties before heading to the bathroom. By the time I made it downstairs, my dad was at the kitchen counter reading emails on his phone and drinking coffee like it had personally offended him.“You’ve got that university advisor thing next week, right?” he asked without looking up.“Yeah.”“You printed the course list?”“I said I would.”“That’s not an answer.”“It’s printed.”That got a short nod out of him. Good enough. My mum was moving between the si
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