Ethan Wong, an ex-prodigy violinist, thinks it's not meant to be.
After his latest mental breakdown at his last violin competition, where he placed tenth out of ten contestants, he's not sure why his music professor appointed him the soloist for th...
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I, Cameron Langley, kissed Ethan Wong. And he kissed me back. Everything felt right in the world.
Well, almost everything.
The realization in the morning that this weekend was ending and we'd be on our separate ways back to college was a giant weight on our shoulders. Both of us knew it was bound to happen, but I, for one, didn't want to accept it, especially after last night.
Over the course of one weekend, Ethan and I had unpacked a lot and addressed our concerns and emotions that accumulated over the course of years. There was still so much to be said, things to discuss and learn, that one weekend wasn't enough.
Especially with our feelings for each other.
There were no words for how much I missed Ethan, and now that we both knew each other's feelings, it was hard to fathom that we'd have to be separated again. Yale was 135 miles away from him, roughly a two-hour drive. And while it wasn't terribly far—just a little farther than the route from here to Yale—it didn't beat sharing a hotel room in one of our dream destinations.
"Cam, you've gotta get packing," Ethan said, crossing the room. "Check-out is at noon."
I groaned, still bundled in the fluffy duvet. "I don't wanna."
I didn't want to get up or leave Ethan. It was a shame we couldn't just hit a button and restart the weekend. Add more time together, like a 30-second button on a microwave.
"I don't either, but our advisors will be on our asses if we don't get down there early to load our stuff into the buses." He stuffed his toiletry bag in a duffle bag. "I know your bus is shorter, but ours is a three and half hour trip."
"Yikes."
"Yeah, and I'm not sure we'll have time to stop and eat, so I'd like to go downstairs to get something small for the road."
"Fine." I unraveled my makeshift cocoon, strolling across the room to pack.
I took my time to get the most out of our remaining time in room 512. I resisted the urge to bear hug Ethan and bring him back to bed to cuddle. If I had to argue with our advisors to let us stay longer, I would.
But I obliged in packing my belongings, occasionally sneaking in a kiss or two as Ethan checked for anything he missed.
Outside our hotel room, I spotted my coach in the halls near his door as we dragged our suitcases behind us. Though I was sure he said he had a room to himself, someone had his door propped open from the inside.
"Call me later, Alan. I've gotta meet the boys downstairs."
"Alan?" Ethan said, watching the affair.
"I'll be down there shortly," a familiar voice said before a male exited the same hotel room. With the door propped open, Coach and the male embraced in a hug.
