Shattered ✓

T H I R T Y - N I N E

Michael

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm orange glow over the sidewalk as Jackson and I walked home together. It wasn't unusual for us to take this route after school, but today felt different. The silence between us wasn't the comfortable kind we'd gotten used to. It was heavy, tense, like there was something caught in the air neither of us knew how to address.

Normally, Alexa, Andrew, and Elliot walked with us, but with the whole Benny situation still unresolved, the twins were getting picked up directly from school for now. As for Elliot, he'd mentioned he had some things to take care of, though he hadn't bothered to elaborate. It left just Jackson and me, walking side by side in the awkward silence that had become all too common lately.

Jackson had been weird all day—quieter than usual, his eyes darting around like he was trying to avoid mine. I told myself it was nothing, that maybe he was just stressed about finals or tired from the long week, but the thought kept nagging at me.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Hey," I said, breaking the silence. "You good?"

Jackson glanced at me, his hands stuffed deep in his hoodie pockets. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

I shrugged, trying to keep my tone casual. "I don't know. You just seem... off today."

"I'm fine," he said quickly, too quickly, and looked away again.

I frowned, slowing my steps so I could match his pace. "You sure? You barely said a word at lunch. Michael-noticed-something's-wrong kind of quiet. That's, like, Defcon One."

That earned me a small, fleeting smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It's nothing," he muttered.

I wasn't convinced, but I let it slide. For now.

We turned onto his street, the familiar stretch of cracked pavement leading toward his house. The sun dipped lower, throwing long shadows across the road. I felt my pulse quicken, my heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the walk.

I'd been working up the nerve to say something all day. All week, really. Maybe longer. But now that we were here, with the quiet and the fading light and the way Jackson wouldn't quite look at me, I wasn't so sure.

Still, I wasn't going to back out now.

"Jackson," I started, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach.

He glanced at me, his brow furrowing slightly. "Yeah?"

I stopped walking, turning to face him fully. He stopped too, looking at me with a mix of confusion and... something else.

"Look, I've been meaning to tell you something," I said, my voice softer now. "And I know this might sound kind of out of nowhere, but... I like you."

The words felt like they hung in the air between us, heavy and impossible to take back.

Jackson blinked, his expression freezing for a split second before he quickly looked away. "Michael, don't," he said, his voice strained.

"Don't what?" I asked, confused by his reaction.

"Don't... say stuff like that," he muttered, his hands fidgeting in his pockets.

I frowned, taking a step closer. "Why not? It's true. I like you, Jackson. And I'm pretty sure—"

"Just stop," he said, cutting me off. His voice was sharp, almost angry, but when he looked at me, his eyes were full of something that looked a lot like fear.

I opened my mouth to say something else, but before I could, the front door of his house creaked open.

"Jackson?"

We both turned to see his mom standing on the porch, her arms crossed. Her eyes flicked between us, sharp and questioning. Normally, she was filled with warmth, but not today, and I wasn't entirely sure why she was acting so cold.

"Everything okay?" she asked, her tone casual but with an edge I couldn't ignore. She was looking between the two of us, as if she had somehow known what we were talking about.

"Yeah, Mom," Jackson said quickly, his voice tight. "We're just talking."

She didn't move, her gaze lingering on me for a moment before she nodded. "Dinner's in an hour," she said before stepping back inside and closing the door.

As soon as she was gone, Jackson let out a shaky breath and turned back to me. "Michael, you can't... You can't say stuff like that around her."

"Why not?" I asked, frustration creeping into my voice. "I'm just being honest with you."

"Because she'd know," he said, his voice trembling. "She'd figure it out, and then what? What am I supposed to say to her?"

I stared at him, realization dawning slowly. "Jackson, do you... like me too?"

He flinched, his face twisting into something I couldn't quite read. "It doesn't matter," he said after a moment. "Even if I did, it wouldn't change anything."

"Of course it matters!" I said, stepping closer. "You shouldn't have to hide how you feel. Not from her, not from anyone."

The group had figured out Jackson was gay, and I guess, since then was when Jackson had become a little weird.

"You don't get it!" he snapped, his voice breaking. "I can't just... feel that way about you, okay? I can't."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, but before I could respond, he turned and started walking toward his house.

"Jackson, wait—"

"I'm sorry," he said over his shoulder, his voice barely audible. "I just can't."

And then he was gone, the front door closing behind him with a finality that made my chest ache.

I stood there for a long moment, the cool evening air brushing against my skin, but it did nothing to ease the hollow feeling inside me. I'd told him how I felt, but instead of clarity, all I had now were more questions.

As I turned to head home, I couldn't shake the thought that I'd just lost something important—something I didn't know how to fix.