All Chapters of My Enemy [BL]: Chapter 291 - Chapter 300

Rowan stayed back in the sitting room without needing to be told, reading the atmosphere in that way he does.He gave me a small nod that said go ahead, then leaned against the porch railing, pretending to scroll through his phone but really listening for any odd sounds. It let Frank and me avoid forced small talk too soon, giving us the space we needed.Inside, the house wrapped around us like an oversized coat, the living room lights casting long shadows across furniture that hadn’t seen a change in years. I started with simple questions, not wanting to jump into the heavy stuff too quickly."Have you eaten anything today?" I asked softly as we sank into Frank’s bed, the mattress sinking under us. "Or slept more than a couple of hours? Are the police still calling with updates, or has it quieted down?"He shrugged, the motion tired. "A little. Toast this morning, I think. Sleep is... optional right now." His voice had that hollow edge, but he added a faint, self-aware twist to his m

I was sitting cross-legged on Frank’s living room floor that Saturday afternoon, surrounded by a bit of disarray that comes after police have gone through someone’s life.There were cardboard boxes with evidence tape still hanging on the sides, manila envelopes stamped with official seals, and a few plastic bags containing personal items that looked oddly small and sad without their context.The three of us, Frank, Rowan, and I...had somehow turned this whole mess into a strange, subdued version of show-and-tell, passing things around like we were archaeologists digging through the remnants of someone else’s mistakes.It felt oddly domestic, almost comforting in its ridiculousness. Sunlight filtered through the half-open blinds, casting lazy golden bars across the hardwood floor, catching dust motes that floated like tiny planets.Frank had pulled out an old throw blanket to sit on because the floor was chilly, and somehow that simple act made everything feel less sterile. We weren’t

Waking up the next morning, I immediately felt that familiar knot of guilt in my stomach, even before I had rolled out of bed. Millie’s name had been sitting unread in my messages for days, those little blue bubbles I’d opened, half-written replies I never sent.I had told myself it was valid because Frank needed me, the investigation was spiraling, and everything felt too big and urgent to stop for normal friend stuff.But the reality was harsher: I had been a terrible friend, too caught up in my own mess to even check if she was doing okay. I wished she’d understand. I hoped she wouldn’t hate me for it. Mostly, I just wanted her to pick up when I called.Sitting on the edge of my bed in sweatpants and an old hoodie, I pressed my phone to my ear as it rang straight to voicemail for the third time.Her cheerful outgoing message played, "Hey, it’s Millie, leave a message or don’t, but if you don’t I’ll assume you’re dead and start planning your funeral playlist"And I winced at how nor

The gymnasium at Brookstone High had been transformed into something almost magical for the Snowball, the kind of over-the-top winter wonderland that only a dedicated student council and an unlimited budget could pull off.Fake snow drifted lazily from machines hidden in the rafters, catching the soft blue and silver lights that twinkled overhead like captured stars.Giant paper snowflakes dangled from the ceiling on invisible threads, spinning slowly whenever someone walked underneath, and the walls shimmered with iridescent fabric that looked like frost.A massive ice sculpture of intertwined snowflakes dominated the center of the dance floor, lit from below so it glowed with an ethereal chill, while tables along the edges held punch bowls that bubbled with dry ice and platters of silver-dusted cupcakes.The DJ booth pulsed with remixed pop ballads and upbeat holiday-infused tracks, and the air smelled like pine from the scattered evergreen garlands mixed with the faint sweetness of

The courtyard outside the gym felt like a whole different place compared to the sparkling chaos inside. Snow drifted down in big, fluffy flakes that caught the glow of the twinkling lights wrapped around the bare branches above, making everything look soft and blurry. The music from the dance seeped out in muffled waves-some slow, syrupy ballad about forever that felt cruelly ironic in that moment.Frank stood a few steps away from us, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, shoulders tense under the navy fabric. His breath formed visible clouds that floated up and vanished into the night. Rowan and I froze as soon as we noticed he was there, the kiss still lingering on my lips like a secret suddenly exposed.At first, no one said anything. Just the gentle sound of snow landing on our shoulders, the distant thumping bass, and the way our breaths felt too loud in the quiet. I watched Frank’s face-his eyes glued to the ground where the snow was already starting to accumulate-and a co