On the Edge of Love (CarlxAlan)

Chapter 10: Carl

By the time Monday morning rolled around, my stomach was in knots.

I knew I'd see Alan today. I had to see Alan today. We had first-period English together, and there was no way to avoid it. But after what happened Friday night, I wasn't sure what to expect.

Would he act normal? Would he pretend nothing happened? Would he regret it?

I hated that last thought.

I took a deep breath as I pulled into the school parking lot, gripping the wheel like that might steady me. It didn't. My hands were still clammy when I finally forced myself to get out of the car.

The halls were the same as always—too loud, too crowded, people moving in every direction—but I felt off. Like I wasn't really here. Like I was hovering just outside my body, waiting for something to go wrong.

And then I saw him.

Alan was at his locker, shoving books into his backpack. He looked normal—too normal, like nothing had changed. My stomach twisted.

I could go up to him. I could say hey, crack a joke, see if he still looked at me the same way he did in the rain.

Or I could turn around and avoid this whole thing.

I turned around.

Coward.

I felt stupid the second I did it, but I couldn't help it. I wasn't ready. My heart was pounding way too fast, and I needed a second to breathe.

So I took the long way to class, pretending I totally needed to stop by my locker, even though I didn't. By the time I slid into my seat, Alan was already there, sitting two rows ahead of me.

He didn't look back.

My stomach sank.

I spent most of class pretending to take notes while my mind ran in circles. Maybe he really was ignoring me. Maybe he did regret it. Maybe I'd ruined everything.

But then, near the end of class, Alan shifted in his seat. He didn't turn all the way around, but he glanced over his shoulder—just for a second.

And our eyes met.

It was quick. Barely anything. But my breath still caught.

Because Alan didn't look mad. Or weird. Or like he wished I didn't exist.

He just looked uncertain.

I held his gaze for as long as I could, but then he turned back around, and my chest felt tight all over again.

After class, we both hesitated.

I wasn't sure if I should wait for him or just go, and it looked like he was thinking the same thing. We both ended up standing there for an awkward second before Alan cleared his throat and mumbled, "Hey."

I blinked. "Hey."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "You, uh... wanna walk?"

I nodded, maybe too quickly, but I didn't care.

The hall was still packed, and we had to weave through the crowd, but it felt like we were in our own little bubble—silent, waiting, not talking about the thing we needed to talk about.

We ended up by the back stairwell, where it was quieter. Alan leaned against the wall, looking at the floor. I shoved my hands in my hoodie pocket, suddenly nervous all over again.

"So," I said.

Alan exhaled, tilting his head back against the wall. "Yeah. So."

I waited, giving him time, because I knew he needed it.

Finally, he sighed. "I, uh... I don't really know what to say."

I swallowed. "Did you mean it?"

He frowned. "Mean what?"

"The kiss." I hesitated. "Or was it just... I don't know. A mistake?"

Alan's head snapped up. "No." His voice was firm—too firm, like he was surprised I'd even asked. "It wasn't a mistake."

Something in my chest loosened.

He looked away again, exhaling. "I just... I don't know what to do with it."

I nodded slowly, not pushing him.

He hesitated, fingers drumming against the strap of his backpack. "I think—I know I like you. I just... I'm not ready for—" He gestured vaguely, like the words were stuck. "For more. Not yet."

I studied him carefully, trying to figure out what he needed from me right now.

Eventually, I just nodded. "Okay."

Alan's brows pulled together. "Okay?"

I shrugged. "I told you, remember? We can just be friends. No pressure."

Alan searched my face like he didn't quite believe me, but I meant it. I wasn't going to push him into something he wasn't ready for.

But at the same time... this felt real.

Alan had admitted it. He liked me.

And even if he wasn't ready yet, that didn't mean he never would be.

For the first time since Friday night, I let myself hope.