. . . Brant wasn’t wrong. People died. It was a fact of life and not something he could run away from. His mom would die eventually. Cousins, aunts, uncles. His professors, his roommate. Theo and Brant. Hell, the guy who’d sold Brant the record player at that garage sale Casey had dragged him to a few weeks ago.
Ethan.
It was normal to be afraid of losing people. Was he going to let that fear rule the rest of his life? Stop him from forming real connections?
Ethan certainly hadn’t.
But it wasn’t like Casey could simply shut off his fear. It was a living, breathing thing that made his scalp itch and triggered his flight or fight response.
In this case, he’d chosen flight.
How come Ethan wasn’t afraid even though he, too, had unexpectedly lost a parent? Perhaps his lack of fear was a result of the grief counseling Ethan had undergone shortly after his mom died? The same grief counseling that Casey had flat-out refused for years.
Time to rethink things?
Maybe.
“Whoa,” Theo whispered, huge eyes on Casey as he leaned closer to Brant. “Did you see that?”
“It was like you could see his brain working,” Brant whispered back, elbowing Theo in the ribs.
Theo patted his arm. “Good job, you.”
“You’re going to have to get over this crush on me. Otherwise, your boyfriend’s going to get jealous.”
“Nah.” Theo’s entire expression turned soft, grin wide and happy. If he were a cartoon character, he would’ve had heart eyes. “He doesn’t have anything to worry about.”
Casey stared at them both. “Go away now.”
They left, and Casey went back to staring into space and thinking about Ethan, but Theo’s sappiness stayed with him until he went home that evening.
Because he’d recognized that look—he’d seen it on Ethan’s face more than once when he looked at Casey.
Chapter Thirteen
For the first time in his life, Ethan was struggling in his science classes. It was a combination of the material being much, much harder than high school science and of it having been a long time since he was in a classroom setting. He wasn’t as good as Casey at staying on top of everything, and with the added pressure of practices and games, plus his intensive degree and the weekly lab reports for his biology class, he hadn’t had time to do today’s chemistry pre-lab reading. And so he was relying on Ken to hold his hand through it, a fact that was making him antsy as fuck.
Not literally holding his hand because . . . No.
Although, maybe he should think about getting to know Ken better. If Casey was right and Ken was interested in him, what would it hurt? He couldn’t sit around waiting for Casey for the rest of his life when Casey had made it perfectly clear that—
Nope. He’d spent all weekend thinking about Casey, to the point where he’d made a dozen new little felt hooties for him, even though he had no idea when he’d muster up the courage to give them to him. He wasn’t going to let Casey distract him from today’s lab.
Time to focus.
Like every laboratory Ethan had ever been in, the chemistry lab was a long room done in pale cream and divided by eight tall counters. Sitting on a stool, he checked the time as students filed into the room.
“Can I borrow your workbook for a few minutes?” he asked Ken. Because yes, he’d forgotten his chem workbook at home.
“Yeah, of course.” Ken pushed his book toward Ethan. Even though Ken smiled, a sour taste coasted Ethan’s mouth. Still, he got out a notebook and quickly scribbled down today’s lab assignment so Ken wouldn’t be forced to share.
There was nothing Ethan hated more than burdening other people with his problems. Other people had their own shit to deal with; they didn’t want to hear about Ethan’s.
Just like Dad hadn’t wanted to hear about Ethan’s grief after Mom died. Just like his high school classmates, who’d started rolling their eyes when Ethan got one assignment extension after another due to his “extenuating circumstances.” Just like Coach Fallon from his junior hockey days, who could barely stomach the sight of Ethan after he’d noticed the rainbow on his gear bag.
Not that Ethan had let that last one affect him. Homophobic morons were the only people he enjoyed being a burden on. Not that he thought he’d change anyone’s mind by shoving his queerness in their faces—that wasn’t the point. Like with Britton, the point was proving that he was capable.