Day 21
The tension in their room over the next day was suffocating. Dante barely looked at Adrian, kept his headphones on constantly, left for campus activities earlier and came back later.
Adrian gave him space while continuing his plan—left small notes, showed up to support Dante publicly, maintained the steady presence that said I'm here, I'm not leaving, I'm serious about this.
But Dante's walls were back up, higher than they'd been since this whole thing started.
Day 22
Wednesday afternoon, Adrian was eating lunch with Elena, Maya, and a few guys from his intramural team in the crowded dining hall. The space was packed with students between classes, conversations overlapping into a steady hum of noise.
Adrian saw Dante enter with Marcus and some of the varsity players. Their eyes met briefly across the crowded space before Dante deliberately looked away.
Adrian returned to his conversation with Elena, who was telling some story about her organic chemistry lab, but he was hyperaware of Dante's presence three tables away.
Then he heard his name.
"Adrian."
Dante's voice cut through the dining hall noise. Not loud, but commanding enough that conversations nearby quieted, people turning to look.
Adrian looked up to find Dante standing beside their table, hands clenched at his sides, jaw tight with barely contained emotion.
"Can we talk?" Dante asked, though his tone suggested it wasn't really a request.
"Of course. You want to—"
"Here. Now." Dante's dark eyes were blazing with something Adrian couldn't quite name—anger, maybe, or fear, or both. "I'm done with private conversations that go nowhere. I'm done with notes and gifts and this whole campaign you're running like I'm some prize to be won."
Adrian stood slowly, aware that everyone within earshot was now openly watching them. Elena touched his arm in a gesture of support, but he barely registered it.
"Okay," Adrian said calmly, even as his heart hammered. "What do you want to say?"
"What is this?" Dante demanded, gesturing between them. "This whole thing you've been doing for the past three weeks. What is it really?"
"I've told you—"
"Some new game? Make me fall for you again so you can finally win the ultimate competition?" Dante's voice was rising now, emotion breaking through his usual control. "Is that what this is? Adrian Hayes's final victory—making Dante Alaric actually believe someone could love him?"
The word love hung in the air between them, raw and exposed.
Adrian stood, meeting Dante's eyes steadily despite the audience, despite the fear coursing through him. "This isn't a game."
"Everything with us is a game!" Dante's hands were shaking now, his whole body vibrating with pent-up emotion. "You think you can just decide you want me now? After I've spent eighteen years wanting you? After you dated Isabella to avoid even looking at me? After you've made it clear a thousand times that I'm nothing but a rival to beat?"
The dining hall had gone almost silent. Adrian could feel dozens of eyes on them, could hear the whispers starting, but he kept his focus on Dante's face—on the hurt and hope and terror flickering across his features.
"You're right," Adrian said quietly. "I was a coward. I was blind. But I'm not anymore."
"Prove it."
"How?"
"Tell me why." Dante's voice cracked. "Why now? Why me? Why should I believe anything you say when you've spent our entire lives proving I don't matter to you?"
This was it. The moment Adrian had been preparing for, the confession he'd been building toward. He could feel the weight of all those watching eyes, could sense phones being pulled out to record this, could imagine this moment spreading across campus by tonight.
But none of that mattered as much as the devastation in Dante's expression, the desperate need for honesty that had finally broken through all his defenses.
Adrian took a breath and made his choice.
"Because I've been in love with you since I was twelve years old and didn't have a name for it."
Dante's breath caught audibly. The dining hall was completely silent now.
Adrian continued, his voice steady even as his hands shook. "Because every competition we had was an excuse to be near you. Because I needed your attention, your focus, your acknowledgment, and rivalry was the only way I knew how to get it."
"Adrian—"
"Because watching you kiss Marcus at that party felt like someone ripped out my heart. Because I've been terrified of losing you for eighteen years, so I kept you close the only way I knew how—by making you my rival instead of admitting what I actually felt."
Dante was frozen, eyes wide, looking like he'd forgotten how to breathe.
Adrian kept going, the words tumbling out now that he'd started. "Because you're the first person I think about when I wake up and the last person I think about before I sleep. Because I know your coffee order—black with two sugars—and your favorite song is that weird indie track from sophomore year that nobody else has heard of. Because I know the way you tap your pen when you're concentrating, and you always read ahead in textbooks even when the professor doesn't assign it."
"Stop," Dante whispered, but Adrian couldn't stop now, not when he was finally being completely honest.
"Because I've memorized every scar on your hands—the one on your right index finger from when you caught it in your locker in eighth grade, the one on your left palm from the woodworking elective junior year. Because I know you have nightmares about your brother's accident, and you're scared of thunderstorms even though you pretend you're not, and you go running at five AM when you're stressed because it's the only thing that helps you think clearly."
Dante's eyes were glistening now, his carefully maintained composure completely shattered.
Adrian's voice broke as he finished: "Because I don't want to compete with you anymore. I want to choose you. Every day. For the rest of my life. If you'll let me."
The silence that followed was absolute. Adrian could hear his own heartbeat, could hear Dante's shallow breathing, could feel the weight of at least fifty students watching this moment unfold.
Dante stared at him for one long, unbearable moment. His expression was completely unreadable—shock, maybe, or disbelief, or something Adrian couldn't name because he'd never seen it before.
Then Dante turned and walked out.
Just walked away without a word, leaving Adrian standing in the middle of the dining hall with his heart laid bare and no idea if he'd just won or lost everything.
The crowd erupted immediately—whispers, gasps, a few people pulling out phones to frantically text what they'd just witnessed.
Adrian stood there, rooted to the spot, staring at the door Dante had disappeared through.
Elena was beside him suddenly, her hand on his arm. "Adrian—"
"I need—" His voice didn't work properly. "I need to go."
"Maybe give him space—"
"I need to go after him."
Adrian pushed through the crowd, ignoring the questions and stares, heading for the door. His phone was already buzzing with texts—probably from Sage, probably from people who'd witnessed the scene, probably from half the campus by now.
He ignored all of it, focused only on finding Dante.
Outside, the November air was cold against his face. Adrian looked around frantically, trying to figure out which direction Dante would have gone.
Then he saw him—at the far edge of the quad, walking fast toward the athletics building.
"Dante!" Adrian called, breaking into a run.
Dante didn't slow down, didn't turn around, just kept walking like he hadn't heard.
Adrian caught up to him near the building entrance, grabbing his arm. "Dante, wait—"
Dante spun around, and Adrian saw tears streaming down his face. Not just glistening eyes—actual tears that he wasn't bothering to hide or wipe away.
"Don't," Dante said, his voice wrecked. "Don't touch me right now."
Adrian dropped his hand immediately. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for doing that in public, I just—you asked me to prove it, and I—"
"You said you've been in love with me since you were twelve." Dante's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Yes."
"That's eight years ago, Adrian. Eight years. And in all that time, you never—" He stopped, shaking his head. "How am I supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to believe any of that when you've spent those same eight years treating me like an enemy?"
"Because I was scared. Because I didn't understand what I was feeling. Because I grew up in a house where being gay wasn't openly discussed, in a school where being different meant being a target, and I didn't know how to process having feelings for another boy." Adrian's own voice was shaking now. "So I converted it into something safer. Rivalry instead of attraction. Competition instead of connection."
"That's not good enough."
"I know it's not. I know I hurt you. I know I wasted eight years we could have had. But I can't change the past, Dante. I can only try to fix the present."
Dante wiped at his face angrily. "You just confessed your love for me in front of half the campus. Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"I've told you the truth. Finally. Publicly. In a way you can't dismiss or doubt or pretend didn't happen."
"You've made us the center of campus gossip. You've outed us both, whether we wanted that or not. You've—" Dante's voice broke. "You've made it impossible for me to protect myself from you anymore."
"I don't want you to protect yourself from me. I want you to let me in."
"Why? So you can hurt me worse than anyone else ever could? So I can believe you and then watch you change your mind when this gets hard or complicated or stops being exciting?"
"I'm not going to change my mind."
"You don't know that. You can't know that. You've been figuring out your sexuality for all of three weeks, Adrian. That's not enough time to make promises about forever."
Adrian wanted to argue, wanted to insist that he knew what he felt, but he could see the terror in Dante's eyes—the bone-deep fear of hoping and being destroyed.
"You're right," Adrian said quietly. "I can't promise you forever. Not yet. But I can promise you today. And tomorrow. And every day for the next three weeks until the transfer deadline."
"And then what?"
"Then you make your choice. Stay or go. Give us a chance or walk away. But at least you'll know—really know—that you mattered enough for me to fight for this."
Dante was crying harder now, hands covering his face, shoulders shaking. "I can't—I can't think right now. I need—I just need to be alone."
"Okay. I'll go. But Dante?" Adrian waited until Dante looked at him. "Everything I said in there was true. Every word. I know you don't believe me yet, but I'm going to keep proving it until you do."
He walked away before Dante could respond, leaving him standing outside the athletics building, and headed back toward his dorm with his phone buzzing constantly in his pocket.
When he finally checked it, he found texts from everyone:
Sage: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. Elena just sent me a video. CALL ME.
Elena: Are you okay? That was the bravest/most insane thing I've ever seen.
Marcus: Dude. Respect. But also, be careful with him. He's more fragile than he looks.
Chris from intramural: Yo everyone's talking about what happened at lunch. Are you and Dante seriously together?
Unknown Number: This is all over campus. Hope it was worth it.
Adrian ignored all of them, sitting on his bed and staring at Dante's empty side of the room.
He'd just gambled everything on a public confession. Had laid his heart completely bare in front of dozens of witnesses. Had said things that couldn't be unsaid, made promises that couldn't be unmade.
And Dante had walked away without giving him an answer.
Adrian didn't know if that meant he'd lost, or if Dante just needed time to process.
All he knew was that there was no going back now.