Page 9 of Trick or Treat Nurse at My Feet
"Nurse Hottie is RIGHT." She circles me, laughing appreciatively. "Damn, all those morning workouts paidoff. You look incredible!"
Her friends nod in agreement, one of them pulling out his phone. "We need a picture for the nursing group chat. Everyone's going to die."
Before I can protest, Jessica throws her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close for a selfie. The flash goes off twice.
"Perfect. This is going on Instagram, too. I hope that's okay?"
I nod, a small part of me hoping Ryan might see it. This is proof that other people see me and appreciate me.
"Are you here with anyone?" Jessica asks, her eyes curious.
"Yeah, meeting someone at eight." The words come out more confident than I feel.
"Lucky them," she says with a wink. "We'll be walking around all night if you'd like to join us later."
Waving as they head off, their compliments ease some of my nervousness. Maybe the outfit wasn't a mistake after all.
At ten after eight, I finally spot him walking in the west entrance. My heart does that stupid flutter again, but a sinking feeling quickly follows it.
Ryan Lane stands slightly apart from the crowd, hands in his pockets, wearing jeans and that distinctive navy hoodie with the faded PC University logo I've seen him wear a hundred times. A generic red devil mask, the kind you'd grab from a drugstore Halloween display at the last minute, covers his entire face.
He's completely unrecognizable to anyone else. I only know it's him because I'd recognize that hoodie anywhere.
I approach slowly, my initial excitement curdling into something heavier. He doesn't move to meet me, doesn'treach for me. His body language is closed off, and even through the mask, I can tell the second he notices my glitter and tight scrubs.
"What are you wearing?" he asks instead of saying hello, his voice slightly muffled by the mask.
No "you look great" or "I missed you." Just criticism.
"Scrubs," I answer, fighting to keep my voice neutral.
He looks around nervously, though no one can possibly know who he is. "You're just... really noticeable."
The word lands like a slap. Of course. That's the problem. I'm visible. I'm seen. I'm everything he doesn't want to be associated with.
"That's the point of Halloween," I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice. "To stand out."
"Yeah, well." He shifts his weight. "I didn't realize you'd be so... much."
My mouth opens to respond when a group of guys walks past us, their voices loud and familiar. My stomach drops as I recognize them, Ryan's friends, including his roommate, Russ. They're all in matching togas, laughing and shoving each other.
Ryan goes completely still beside me, his head turning slightly away.
One of them, I think his name is Brett, glances our way, eyes sliding over both of us without a flicker of recognition. The group passes without slowing, without a single acknowledgment.
And Ryan's shoulders visibly relax.
That's when it hits me. This isn't progress. This isn't him taking steps toward coming out. This is just another version of hiding, more elaborate than before. He's not here with me; he's here with some anonymous guy he can't be connected to.
"So this is what you meant by 'together,'" I say quietly once his friends are out of earshot. "You hiding behind a mask while I make a fool of myself?"
"It's Halloween," Ryan says defensively. "Everyone's in costume."
"You're not in costume," I point out. "You're in disguise. There's a difference."
He sighs, reaching for my hand and pulling me toward a quieter area between booths. Only now, when no one's watching, does he touch me.
"Barrett, come on." His voice softens, thumb stroking over my knuckles. "Don't make this into something it's not."
