All Chapters of Boys Don’t Play Fair: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

The world outside was winding down. The street seemed softer, muted by winter the sky turning a deeper gray and the cold biting at any skin left uncovered. Cars slid past; people hustled home, scarves wrapped over mouths and noses, faces hidden. Joe heard the buzz of traffic and felt the crunch of salt under his shoes with every step. He walked close enough to Liam that their coats nearly brushed. The warmth coming off Liam felt startling. “How was your day?” Liam asked, breathing out white in the air. “Fine.” Joe’s voice was rough. “Just fine.” “Just fine?” Liam tried again. “Yeah. It was fine.” Liam nodded, letting the question drop. They didn’t need words for a while. They rounded a corner. Here, the houses leaned in with chipped paint and old mailboxes. Branches tangled overhead; a jay called out sharp and lonely somewhere above. Liam spoke again, hesitantly. “Can I ask you something?” “Yeah.” “Why did you kiss me? At the movie.” Joe’s breath caught. He stared at the cr

Monday slipped in just like endings usually do quiet, almost sneaky, as if the world didn’t get the news that everything had changed.Noah clocked it right away as he walked through the main doors.Something in the atmosphere had shifted. Not in some epic, obvious way nothing ever happened like that at Westbridge. This was smaller. Mornings just felt a little heavier. Seniors wandered through the halls, eyes sliding across lockers and doorways, like they were trying to memorize the blueprint. Suddenly, the stuff they’d been ignoring for four years was the stuff they couldn’t stop noticing. The stuff they’d actually miss.Mark spent a good minute just standing in front of his open locker.Not grabbing anything.Not putting anything in.Just staring.Noah watched from his spot across the hallway. Saw Mark reach out to touch a faded sticker stuck inside the door peeling around the edges then close it really slowly. Way slower than normal.It felt like he was closing a chapter or somethin

Noah lived in a six-story building, no elevator, just stairs. Jay had climbed them enough times now to know them by heart. The right step on the third floor still groaned under his foot; the light on the landing flickered, caught, and steadied. On the fourth floor, a door let out a draft and the scent of someone's dinner. Garlic and onion, tonight.On the fifth floor, Jay knocked. Two short raps.He heard footsteps, then the clink of a lock. Noah's mom opened the door. She hadn't changed from work, dark pants, pale blouse, a button undone at the top. Her hair was loose, and she carried that worn-out look that never seemed to go away, not a temporary tired but a settled kind, the kind you accept because it's not leaving.She looked at Jay, just for a beat. Then, without a word, stepped aside and opened the door wide enough for him to come in."He's in his room," she said. "I'll make tea."Jay stepped past the threshold. "You don't have to—""I know I don't." She was already moving towa

Jay felt it before he even touched his skates.Something about the rink was off, even though everything looked and sounded the same. The ice still pale and blue under the lights, the place still smelling like rubber and tape and clean cold air. But it was different, the way a room changes when you know you’re about to leave it.He sat down and started with his left skate. Always left first some old superstition from his first coach, and Jay never thought to break the habit. He watched his fingers work the laces, fastened and sure, and wondered how many times he’d done this by now. Must have been thousands. Eventually, he just stopped counting.The team filtered in bit by bit.Sam burst in first, tossing his bag loud as always. Then Chen and a couple of rookies, and Ryan, deep in an argument on his phone, charging through half-dressed. Mark came last, clutching coffee and his helmet.He scanned the room, landing on Jay for a second. They shared a look Mark raised his coffee in a silent

The rooftop was packed already when they showed up.Someone had hung up a string of amber lights along the walls warm, fuzzy, like the whole night slipped through a camera filter. Four standing heaters scattered around, keeping the cold at bay. There was a speaker in the corner, just loud enough for a mood, not so much that you had to shout. Off all around, the city stretched, downtown glowing up in the night, the river to the west catching every stray glint.Maybe forty seniors there, drifting in lazy clusters. Drinks in hand. That kind of background hum you get when forty people finally let themselves realize it’s their last night like this.Mark was already right in the thick of it.Of course he was.He saw Jay right away. Lifted his cup over his head in greeting.Jay shook his head, grinning.They headed across.It was cold, but not too much. The heaters did their job if you kept shuffling around. The amber lights pressed everything in close, cozy. Around them, people drifted and