Chapter 3: Indistinct Lines

Eliot pretended to take notes while he sat in the back of the room and looked down at his notebook. But he was distracted. His look continued to wander. To Jaxon.

He detested being the centre of attention. I didn't like how Jaxon leaned back in his chair with one arm slung over the backrest, as if he were the owner of the planet. As if he hadn't been the one who split Eliot's life in two.

But Jaxon had been everywhere recently.

In the dining room.

Outside his room.

Eliot claimed that he could still feel Jaxon's look on him in class. He looked up, and it was there. Jaxon was silent and unreadable as he watched him once more. They looked at each other. Eliot's heart leapt in his chest as he hurriedly averted his look.

This was insane.

This is not how he should feel. Not about him.

Not Jaxon.

Eliot was sitting on a bench behind the dorm building that afternoon, using the anonymous number to browse through his messages on his phone. Nearly every day, they had been texting one another. The phrases were consoling at first. Then they became more intimate.

Lively.

Eliot didn't intend to return the flirtation. A part of him, though, craved the attention. He missed the feelings such communications gave him. Observed. Wanted.

There was a new message.

"You hate me because you don’t know what it feels like to be wanted by someone who sees you."

Eliot looked at the display.

He was at a loss for words.

He typed:

"I don’t know what I feel anymore."

The response was prompt.

"Then let me show you."

He kept his thumb over the keyboard. He didn't respond.

Eliot had trouble sleeping that night. After hours of tossing and turning, he eventually dragged himself to the school gym. Other than the faint buzz of machinery and the sound of his footsteps, it was almost deserted. He had to get his thoughts straight. Wanted to experience something different from heat, confusion, and irritation.

Sweat trickled down his neck as he forced himself through a torturous set of weights, his muscles burning. He was not even aware that the door had opened.

"I didn't realise you arrived here so late."

He froze at the voice.

When he turned, Jaxon was there.

Without a shirt. With each step, his muscles flexed and his body glistened with sweat. Eliot's throat became parched.

Eliot turned back to the weights and remarked, "Perhaps I don't want to see people."

Jaxon approached, picked up a towel, and wiped his neck. "Or perhaps you were expecting me to arrive."

Eliot gave a sour laugh. "Come to terms with yourself."

"You continue to text me," Jaxon said.

Eliot let the dumbbell fall. "So it's you."

Jaxon smiled. "You already knew, didn't you?"

"You're crazy," Eliot yelled, taking a step back. "You had an affair with my girlfriend. You made me look bad in front of everyone. Do you want to engage in a crazy mental game now?

Jaxon stepped up and remarked, "I didn't plan this." "But if you claim you haven't felt it too, you're lying to yourself."

"There is nothing to experience!" Eliot yelled.

But he was betrayed by his body. Jaxon didn't stop until his back struck the wall. He moved closer, filling Eliot's void until their chests were almost in contact.

"Tell me to get out of here," Jaxon said.

Eliot gasped in surprise. He felt his heart pound in his chest.

"Tell me you're not interested in this."

Eliot declared, "I despise you."

"So why are you trembling?"

Eliot had nothing to say. There was a strong, charged air between them. Jaxon's lips touched Eliot's ear as he came closer.

"Ever since that evening, you have been on my mind constantly."

Eliot's eyes were closed. "Avoid it."

Jaxon then kissed him.

Hard.

It was anything but gentle. It was terrible. Rough. Fire versus fire. Jaxon was not pushed away by Eliot's hands, which shoved at his chest.

He returned the kiss.

He forgot everything for a single gasping moment. The suffering. The treachery, the misunderstanding.

He returned the kiss as though he had desired it for longer than he was prepared to acknowledge.

Then the shock came.

With his face flaming and his breathing rapid, Eliot gave him a strong shove. "What on earth are you doing?"

Jaxon had dark eyes. "I wasn't stopped by you."

Eliot remained silent for a moment. He spun around and ran from the gym.

He did not return to his room. He simply continued to walk. On campus. Past classrooms that are vacant. Past shadows and streetlights. His thoughts were racing.

He kissed him back, but why?

How come it felt so real?

His cell rang.

His hands shaking, he took it out and opened his messages.

He typed:

"I know who you are."

A few seconds went by.

The response then arrived:

"Then why are you still texting me?"

Eliot's heart was racing as he looked at the television. He felt like tossing his phone. He felt like screaming.

Instead, though, he typed:

"Because I can’t stop."

Then press send.

They read the message.

But there was no response.

Along with his thoughts and the sensation that his life had abruptly changed forever, he stood there in the chilly night.