All Chapters of Boys Don’t Play Fair: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The address Jay texted wasn’t even close to what Noah imagined.Not a house. Not even a building, actually.It was just a park on the edge of town. The kind with creaky old swings and crooked benches. Nobody around at night but maybe someone walking their dog.Noah rolled in, glanced around.Jay’s motorcycle sat tucked under some trees at the far end.He headed over, got off his bike.Jay sat by himself on top of a picnic table, bag dropped at his feet. Still wearing his jacket, staring off at nothing.He didn’t look up when Noah got close.“Hey,” Noah said, voice low.Jay gave a nod but kept quiet.Noah hopped up and joined him, planting himself next to Jay on the table. Their feet swinging in the cold, breath fogging in the air.They sat like that. No words. Just the wind and stray cars in the distance.Eventually, Jay spoke. “I fucked up.”“You won the ga

Monday showed up way too fast.Noah rolled out of bed thinking about the pond, about sitting next to Jay, about the way sunlight lit up Jay’s hair when he leaned his head back and laughed at some dumb thing Noah said. He shook himself out of it, got dressed, grabbed his stuff. Off to school.First period dragged on. Mrs. Patterson handed back another assignment. Noah got an 89. Nice, but not what he wanted. He told himself to ask Jay about it later.Then came history. Even worse. The teacher’s voice faded into static while Noah’s head kept going back to Saturday. Jay saying, you’re the only person I wanted to share it with. Noah could still feel those words somewhere in his chest, digging in.When the bell rang, he collected his things and headed to his locker. Joe stood there waiting.“Hey,” Joe said, “where were you this weekend?”“Around. What’s up?”“Just wondering. You kind of disappeared after the game Friday.”

Joe sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his shoes. He moved slow, easing his left foot out of his sneaker, careful to leave the laces just how they were.That knot was still perfect tight, neat. Far better than anything he ever managed on his own. Exactly the way Liam tied it.He set the shoe next to his bed, then lined up the right one too, which really didn’t need adjusting. Then he collapsed backward, sinking into his pillow and watching the cracks in his bedroom ceiling.His mom had called him for dinner more than an hour ago. He’d told her he wasn’t hungry. She left a plate by his door anyway, but he hadn’t touched it.Joe’s phone waited on the nightstand. No new messages. No calls. Still, he picked it up and started scrolling through his old texts with Liam.Most of the conversation was just him, trying to keep things going, tossing out questions. Liam’s replies were short, sometimes just one word. Sometimes nothing.

Noah's Apartment. 6:47pmNoah tried on three different shirts, then ended up wearing the first one he picked out.It was just a plain gray t-shirt. Nothing flashy. Nothing that screamed, “I spent way too much time trying to look casual on purpose.”He stared at his reflection and ran his fingers through his hair.His mom appeared in the doorway and knocked. “You look nice. Where you headed?”“Meeting up with Jay.”“Again?” She smiled. “You two have been pretty inseparable lately.”“Yeah, I guess we have.”She leaned against the frame. “He seems like a good kid. Polite. Brought you home one time and actually came to the door.”“He is.”“You like him.”She didn’t frame it as a question.Noah met her eyes. “Yeah. I do.”Her smile grew. “Good. Just… be careful, okay? People with money, sometimes they’ve got their own worlds, and those don’t always work the way you want th

THE GAME NIGHT PRESSUREAt Noah's Apartment by. 6:42pm.The whole apartment smelled like cooking. Noah stood at the counter, chopping vegetables while his mom stirred a bubbling pot on the stove. The radio played some old song in the background, his mom humming along without even noticing."Smaller pieces," she said, glancing over. "They cook faster.""I know, I know," he said."Then why do they look like that?"Noah looked down. She had a point. Some pieces were tiny, others way too thick."I'm not a professional chef, Mom.""You don't have to be. Just pay attention." She was smiling as she came over, taking the knife and showing him how to angle it. "Like this. Even cuts. See?""You make it look easy."She laughed. "Twenty years of experience, sweetheart." She went back to stirring the sauce. "So, how was school?""Good. Swimming practice was rough. Coach wants me