Chapter One: Where It Begins

"It all starts somewhere. Maybe it started with a lie. But it felt like something truer than I'd ever said out loud."

Content warning: internalized homophobia, queer longing, religious pressure

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It all starts somewhere.

Mr. Olsten scribbled the phrase on the whiteboard just before the start of fourth period. Beneath it, he added a loose diagram: a jagged line meant to represent motion, an arrow curving toward a cluster of dots labelled "mass," and a messy equation I didn't bother to write down. I was still peeling the sleep from my eyes, one elbow leaning heavily against the cool desk surface.

"Physics is not just a subject you study," he said, turning toward us like we were his reluctant congregation. "It's the study of matter. Of motion. Of cause and effect."

⋆｡°✩

I stared at the board without really seeing it. I wasn't there for the science. I was there because the school required at least one science credit for graduation. And because I wasn't athletic enough to bullshit my way out of it with sports.

I was the kind of student who existed somewhere in the middle. I didn't fail classes, but I didn't excel either. I handed things in on time. I blended in. That's how I liked it.

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"As I mentioned earlier this week," Mr. Olsten continued, already moving down the aisle between rows of desks, "you'll be working in pairs this semester. I've already assigned the groups—fifty-fifty grade split, due on the final day. No exceptions."

Groans rippled through the class like the world's most half-hearted earthquake. People had assumed they'd get to pick their own partners. Of course they had. Friends made everything easier—until they didn't. I figured I'd be paired with Eli Rutter or maybe Brandyn Wrigley, the two guys I'd worked with on our last science project. We weren't close, but we got along. No drama. No pressure.

I turned my eyes to the door just as it opened.

✦✦✦

He stepped in like he belonged to another dimension.

There was a hush—not full silence, just that subtle tightening in the air when everyone is quietly wondering the same thing: Who is that?

Tall, lean, golden. A slim messenger bag slung over one shoulder. Sandy blonde hair, half-tucked behind his ears. Ocean-colored eyes. A single earring glinting under the fluorescent lights like a deliberate punctuation mark.

"Ah, yes," Olsten said, adjusting his tie. "Class, this is Christian Day. Transferred from Vermont. He'll be joining us this semester."

Christian gave a small nod. Didn't smile. Didn't look nervous. Just... existed. Effortlessly.

"There's a seat free next to Luke," Olsten added, pointing in my direction.

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My heart immediately began doing something it hadn't done since... maybe ever.

Christian slid into the desk beside me. No introductions. No small talk. He opened his notebook, and for the next thirty minutes, we sat in a kind of quiet that made my brain hum. I wasn't sure if I was breathing properly. At one point, I glanced sideways and caught a flash of purple, pink, and blue on his wrist—a hand-drawn smiley face, its ink faded around the edges. He caught me looking. I turned back toward the board so fast I nearly knocked over my pencil.

When the bell rang, Christian was already on his feet, disappearing into the hallway before I could think of anything to say. I sat there for a moment, trying to ground myself. It felt like something had shifted. Not in a big, dramatic way. Just enough to knock me slightly off-center.

That's when I saw the list by the door. Group partners for the semester.

Christian Day.
Luke Montgomery.

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Dryden found me by my locker a few minutes later, already mid-sentence. "Did you bomb that test in Psychics?"

"Physics," I corrected.

"Whatever. MIT looks at those grades, you know."

I rolled my eyes and spun the combination on my lock. Dryden had been my best friend since second grade and had somehow mastered the art of making me feel like both a genius and a failure in the same breath. He was a golden retriever in human form—tan from years of football, loud in the way extroverts can't help but be, and always somewhere between helpful and annoying.

"There wasn't a test," I said. "And do you have to yell everything?"

He grinned. "Do you need a ride home tonight? I've got practice."

I hesitated. That was our routine—he drove me home, I sat in the bleachers doing homework while he ran drills. But something about today felt off. Or maybe it felt... different. Like there was something else I was supposed to do.

"I'll take the bus," I said.

He blinked. "You never take the bus."

"Maybe I'm feeling adventurous."

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I turned before he could say anything else. As I passed the main hall, I caught a glimpse of Christian by his locker. I lifted my hand in a quick wave, but he didn't look up. Or maybe he did and just chose not to respond.

The buses were already idling when I got outside. I hesitated at the edge of the sidewalk, heart still doing weird little loops. Then someone called my name.

"Luke!"

I turned.

A red Jeep idled at the curb. Christian was behind the wheel, one arm hanging out the open window. The breeze caught his hair just enough to make it look like something out of a music video.

"You forgot your book," he said, holding up my physics notebook.

I frowned. I hadn't forgotten anything. I'd left my notebook in my locker right after class. But there it was, in his hands.

"Would I? Could I?" I asked, then immediately winced. That wasn't what I'd meant to say.

He tilted his head, amused.

"Do you want a ride home?"

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The inside of the Jeep smelled like pine trees and something faintly citrusy. Christian tapped the steering wheel, glancing over.

"Luke Hemsworth, tell me something about yourself."

"Montgomery," I corrected. "My last name is Montgomery."

He laughed. "Right. Sorry. Still new."

I stared out the window, trying to think of something to say. Not about the way his hand brushed his hair. Not about the smiley face on his wrist. Not about how I hadn't felt this specific kind of nervous since I was eight and realized I liked Ron Weasley more than Hermione.

"I like Buffy the Vampire Slayer," I offered.

Christian snorted. "Never seen it. My sister made me watch Degrassi. We started with the Drake years."

We took back roads I didn't recognize. After a few turns, the town disappeared behind us, swallowed by trees and silence. Finally, the Jeep rolled to a stop beside a pond I didn't even know existed. The water shimmered under the fading sun.

"This is where we should study," Christian said. "It's quiet. Peaceful. No one else comes here."

I nodded. It felt like we'd left the world behind. Just the two of us. Like a secret we were both suddenly keeping.

He grinned. "Done deal. This is our spot."

And then—because apparently nothing about today could be normal—he stripped off his shirt and dove into the water.

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I stood there like an idiot, watching him surface, watching the water roll off his shoulders. His chest was pale and lean, a constellation of freckles across his collarbone. The sun dipped lower, bleeding mauve and orange across the horizon.

He looked back at me.

"We should probably head back before someone thinks I kidnapped you."

Back in the Jeep, he handed me the notebook again. "See you tomorrow," he said as I climbed out.

"Yeah. See you."

✦✦✦

I walked inside just as my dad came out of the den, dressed in his Sunday suit.

"Where have you been?"

I opened my mouth. The truth floated somewhere behind my teeth.

"Studying with Dryden," I said instead.

He nodded, satisfied, and turned back toward the living room.

I headed upstairs. Shut the door. And let myself feel every last second of the afternoon.

It all starts somewhere.
Maybe it started with a lie.
But it felt like something truer than I'd ever said out loud.

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