Chapter Four: Almost Saying It
The worst part wasn't the distance.
It was the pretending.
Ethan pretended everything was fine. Lucas pretended nothing had changed. They smiled when they were supposed to. They laughed at the right moments. They even joked together like always. The word best friend hung carefully between them like it was fragile glass—something that might shatter if they touched it too hard.
But something was wrong.
They both felt it. They just didn't know what it was.
The Arrival of Maya
The change started subtly.
Maya.
She transferred midway through the term. Confident. Sharp-eyed. Quick-witted. She had a way of walking into a room and making it impossible to ignore her. Ethan noticed how Lucas's expression brightened when she entered class for the first time. The way his laugh changed slightly, like it had found a new tone it hadn't used before.
Ethan told himself it didn't matter. Friends had other friends all the time. He didn't need to care.
He cared anyway.
They were seated together during history class that afternoon. Lucas leaned casually toward her, his elbow brushing hers in a way that made Ethan's chest tighten. Ethan told himself it wasn't a big deal. She was new. She was just someone else.
But when Maya laughed at one of Lucas's jokes, and he smiled back at her with that easy, warm grin, Ethan's stomach twisted into knots he didn't want to name.
He shifted in his seat, pretending to focus on his notes.
The Cafeteria
Lunch became torture.
Lucas invited her to sit with them, and she did. She was loud, confident, engaging. Lucas responded naturally, leaning toward her as if the space between them had no meaning. Ethan felt invisible, as if the air he breathed didn't exist when she was around.
"Why are you so quiet?" she asked him suddenly, tilting her head.
Ethan blinked. "I… I'm fine."
Lucas looked up at him. "He notices everything," he said casually.
Ethan looked down at his tray.
"Yes," he muttered under his breath.
Lucas didn't notice the subtle bitterness in his tone. Of course he didn't. He never noticed Ethan's feelings the way Ethan noticed his.
Growing Awareness
Days turned into a week.
Lucas stopped waiting for Ethan at the gate every morning. Sometimes he arrived with Maya. Sometimes he left early. Sometimes he didn't reply to Ethan's texts immediately.
Ethan watched it all. He noticed every absence. Every delayed message. Every time Lucas chose to sit somewhere else.
He hated how much it affected him.
The First Real Argument
It came on a Thursday.
Lucas had canceled their usual study session last minute. Ethan tried to brush it off.
Lucas: Sorry, something came up
Ethan: Okay
Lucas: You sure?
Ethan: Yeah
But when Lucas finally arrived at Ethan's doorstep, breathless and apologetic, Ethan's chest tightened.
"You didn't tell me why," Ethan said quietly.
"I didn't think it mattered," Lucas replied.
"That's the problem," Ethan snapped.
"What's wrong with you lately?" Lucas asked, frowning.
Ethan flinched. "I could ask you the same thing."
Silence stretched between them. Heavy. Weighted with emotions neither could admit.
Lucas ran a hand through his wet hair, his eyes searching. "If I did something, just tell me."
Ethan opened his mouth, then closed it. There was too much. None of it made sense.
"I just don't like feeling… like I don't matter," Ethan whispered.
Lucas's expression softened immediately. "Ethan—"
"I know," Ethan said quickly. "That's stupid. Forget I said anything."
Lucas stepped closer. "That's not stupid."
They stood there, rain dripping off their clothes, the space between them charged with unspoken words.
"You matter to me," Lucas said quietly. "More than you think."
Ethan looked away. That was the problem.
The Festival
The school festival was a test neither felt ready for.
Lights. Noise. Music. Crowds. Laughter that felt distant and intimate at the same time.
Lucas found Ethan near the edge of the festival, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders hunched.
"There you are," Lucas said, relief in his voice.
"Yeah," Ethan replied.
They stood together, not touching, not moving away either.
"I thought you weren't coming," Lucas said.
"I didn't feel like it," Ethan shrugged.
Lucas hesitated. "You don't feel like a lot of things lately."
Ethan's chest tightened. "Maybe we're just… relying on each other too much," he said. "Maybe we need space."
Lucas's face fell. "Do you want space?"
Ethan turned to him.
Lucas was close. Too close.
Their eyes met.
"No," Ethan admitted.
Lucas's breath hitched.
"Then don't say that," Ethan whispered.
They stood there, inches apart. The air was thick with something unspoken, suffocating, undeniable.
Lucas lifted a hand—then stopped.
"I'm scared," he said quietly.
Ethan nodded. "Me too."
The Storm
Three days later, a storm rolled in.
Ethan had just left school and the rain started falling in sheets. He ducked under the awning of a closed shop, cursing under his breath. Then he saw Lucas running toward him, hair plastered to his forehead, soaked through, breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
"You too?" Lucas laughed, drenched.
Ethan nodded.
Without thinking, Lucas grabbed his wrist. "My place is closer."
Ethan didn't pull away.
They ran through the rain together, laughter mixing with thunder, and for a moment, everything else didn't exist.
The Near-Confession
At Lucas's apartment, they stood awkwardly in the hallway, dripping wet.
Lucas fetched towels, hands brushing Ethan's shoulders, lightly, almost by accident. Ethan felt his chest tighten.
They sat on opposite ends of the couch. Silence filled the room, louder than the storm outside.
"I don't like this," Lucas said suddenly.
"Like what?" Ethan asked.
"This… space between us. The distance."
Ethan swallowed. "Neither do I."
"Then why are we doing it?"
"I don't know," Ethan whispered.
Lucas leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clenched. "I feel like I'm losing you," he admitted.
Ethan's chest ached. "You're not losing me."
"Then why does it feel like I already have?"
The storm cracked outside.
Ethan took a step forward. Lucas stepped closer.
Inches apart. Breath hitching. Hands almost touching.
And then—lights flickered back on.
They stepped apart, startled.
Reality crashed in.
The Aftermath
They didn't talk much after that.
When Ethan left, Lucas walked him to the door.
"Promise me something," Lucas said again.
Ethan looked at him.
"Don't disappear," Lucas said.
"I won't," Ethan whispered.
Neither spoke about how close they had been to saying something neither understood.
That night, Ethan lay awake, heart pounding, replaying every moment.
The towel. The closeness. Lucas's voice.
Friends didn't almost say things like that.
Friends didn't make your chest ache this badly.
But admitting that would risk everything.
So Ethan chose silence.
Across town, Lucas lay awake too, staring at his ceiling.
He replayed Ethan's voice when he said No.
The way it sounded like truth.
The way it sounded like something more.
He pushed the thought away.
They were best friends.
And whatever this was… it could wait.
The line between friendship and something else had blurred permanently that night.
And soon, pretending would no longer be enough.