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Shit. Has he guessed what I’m going to say? That’s more reason for me to make the evening special.
Our spot is the car park of a dilapidated warehouse. It might not sound like much, but no one else ever comes here, so we can hang out together without fear of getting seen. Not that Wren cares; he’s never hidden that he’s gay. We came here instead of going to our high school prom. I hang the fairy lights along the red brick wall and use my phone to play music through the speakers, like I did on prom night two years ago. Our sanctuary looks just as beautiful as it did then.
Wren arrives a few minutes after I’ve finished. He doesn’t have a car yet, so he had to walk. I was meant to pick him up and drive him to prom. He shouldn’t have had to walk anywhere. I push the thought aside. Tonight is going to be great. We don’t need to be surrounded by our classmates to have a good evening.
My breath catches in my throat. Wren looks stunning in a navy-blue suit. His blond, curly hair skims the top of his wire-framed glasses. But he’s not smiling, so his gorgeous dimples are hidden.
“What’s all this?” he asks.
“Our prom.”
His chin quivers. “You didn’t tell them, did you?”
“Wren, I can explain.” I try to hug him, but he pulls away.
Tears stream down his cheeks. “You promised.” His breathing is harsh. “You said you’d tell them. You said we’d go to prom together.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“I got an offer from Harlequins to join their academy. It’s what I’ve always wanted, Wren. What I’ve been training for.”
Wren shakes his head and grits his teeth.
My stomach coils and tightens. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me? My dreams are coming true.”
“Congrats.” His voice drips with sarcasm.
“Wren—” I reach for him again, but he darts away from me.
He’s a lot smaller and lighter than I am, which makes him nimbler. Between puberty and rugby, I’ve got tall and bulky over the last four years. I tower above most of our year group at sixth form.
“So, what?” he asks. “You want me to continue being your dirty little secret while you run off and play rugby for Harlequins?” he asks.
“It’s not like that. I love you.”
“It’s exactly like that. You fucking coward! If you loved me, you wouldn’t be picking rugby over me. We’d be going to prom together, not arguing in a car park.” Wren clenches his fists. “Three years! I’ve put up with you refusing to come out of the closet for three fucking years. You promised me you’d come out. You promised me we’d go to prom together this time. But no. You’re choosing rugby and your arsehole teammates over me. Again.” His words lash into me, each one hurting more than the last.
“Wren.”
“I can’t do this anymore, Tanner. Three years.”
“Wren.” I don’t know what to say to make this right. I’m not sure I can. “I will come out. I need to get to the academy and feel out how they’ll react.”
“And if they’re homophobic arseholes like your current teammates?”
“I—”
“Exactly. It’s another empty promise, Tanner.”
“It’s not. Wren—”
“Fuck off. We’re done.” He pulls his tie off and throws it at me. It’s too light to travel the distance, so it falls onto the ground in a coiled heap.
“Wren, don’t say that.”
He narrows his eyes. “Did you think I’d be okay with this?”
