Page 112 of Trick or Treat Nurse at My Feet
"Come on, Ethan," Ryan says, his tone placating now. "You're not being realistic. Guys like us?—"
"Guys like you," I interrupt. "Don't put me in your closet, Ryan. I'm not ashamed of who I am."
"Neither am I," he insists, but I catch him checking the door real quick. That gives him away. "I'm just practical. The world isn't as nice as you want to think."
"Tyler's frat brothers didn't seem to have a problem with us," I point out, feeling a sting as I remember how they'd all been so nice to me.
Ryan's expression hardens. "Those frat boys were probably laughing behind your back the whole time. You think someone like Tyler Landis would seriously date someone like you? You were an experiment, Ethan. A novelty."
The words hit exactly where they're intended to, right at my deepest insecurities. For a second, I can't even speak, the hurt still too raw.
"You're not good enough for someone like him," Ryan continues, pressing his advantage. "Not attractive enough, not connected enough. It was only a matter of time before he went back to what he wanted."
Each word is like a knife, carefully aimed. And perhaps the most painful thing is that part of me believes him. Hasn't that been my fear all along? That Tyler would eventually realize I wasn't worth the trouble of exploring his newfound sexuality? Was I just a phase?
But then, other memories pop up out of nowhere.Tyler's face when he spotted me across a packed room. He really listened when I talked about nursing, about my family, about what I want for my future. He never hurried me, never pushed me, always checked I was okay before we moved forward with anything.
Would someone who was "just experimenting" have been so careful with my heart?
The pictures pop back into my head, but now I see them in a new light. Something about them seemed weird, like they were too perfect in how bad they made Tyler look. And why would they end up right in my locker, where only I'd find them? If Tyler was cheating, why go through all that trouble to show me?
"You know what?" I say, interrupting Ryan's continued litany of reasons why Tyler and I were doomed from the start. "You're wrong."
He blinks, caught off guard by my sudden confidence. "Excuse me?"
"You're wrong about Tyler, about me, about all of it." I start grabbing my stuff, suddenly seeing things clearly. "I need to go."
Ryan's face changes, his fake sympathy turning to annoyance. "Come on, Ethan. I'm just trying to help you. That guy made a fool of you in front of everyone at school. It's all over social media."
"How did you know about that?" I ask sharply. "The video?"
"Everyone knows," he says, a little too quickly. "It's been shared everywhere."
"But how did you know exactly where to find me today?" The question has been nagging at me. "How did you know I'd be back in class?"
Ryan hesitates, just for a second. "Lucky guess. Thursday labs are standard for your program."
It sounds believable enough, but something about the way he says it feels practiced. I look at his face more carefully and notice something I didn't see before: behind his worried expression, his eyes are working things out, like he's planning his next move.
"You know, those photos that showed up in my locker were convenient. Professional quality, perfect timing." Each word drops with growing suspicion.
Ryan's expression doesn't change, but a muscle in his jaw tightens. "What are you implying?"
"Nothing," I say, watching him carefully. "Just thinking out loud about how strange it all was. How someone would have needed access to the nursing building to plant those photos."
"You're not making sense," Ryan says dismissively. "You should sit down. You're obviously still upset."
He reaches for my arm, but I step back. "Don't touch me. I'm leaving."
As I turn to go, his hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist with unexpected force. "Wait."
"Let go," tugging against his grip.
Instead, he pushes me back against the lockers, his face close to mine. "You're not thinking clearly. That frat boy messed with your head."
"Ryan, you're hurting me," I say, trying to stay calm even though warning bells are going off in my head. I've never seen him like this, so intense, almost desperate.
"We're good together, Ethan," he insists, his voice dropping lower. "We make sense. Not you and some straight guy playing gay until graduation."
