On the Edge of Love (CarlxAlan)

Chapter 27: Carl

By Wednesday, the halls felt quieter. Or maybe I'd just grown used to the background noise of whispers.

The first two days after the rumor broke were kind of brutal. Stares, half-laughed conversations that stopped when we walked by, weirdly specific questions from people who never used to talk to us. But it's like the school had moved on already, latching onto the next piece of drama. Something about a fight during second lunch. Someone supposedly got suspended.

Whatever it was, we were no longer the main event.

And honestly, that should've been a relief. But it wasn't—not totally. Because the silence didn't mean everything had gone back to normal. It just meant people got quieter about it.

Alan and I didn't talk about it much. We kind of floated through the week like we were hoping no one would make it a thing again. We'd text, hang out after school, keep things pretty under-the-radar. It wasn't perfect, but it was working—for now.

I saw him that morning at his locker, shoving a book into his bag with one hand while trying to untangle his earbuds with the other.

"Morning," I said, stepping beside him.

"Hey." He smiled at me like he meant it, and yeah, that still did something to me. Every time.

We didn't touch—just stood there for a beat, close enough that I could smell his shampoo. Something piney and warm. He wore it without realizing it made him smell like fall.

"Stats quiz today?" he asked.

"Unfortunately."

"You're gonna ace it."

"Says the guy who got an 88 last time."

He nudged me gently with his elbow. "Hey. That was your fault for distracting me while I was studying."

I smirked. "I barely said anything."

"You wore that hoodie I like."

I rolled my eyes, but I didn't stop smiling. That was the kind of stuff that made all this feel real. Not the rumors, not the fear—but this. Dumb hallway talks. Walking with excited in between classes. The small, unspoken way we moved through school like we belonged together even if we couldn't say it out loud yet.

We started toward our next class, just walking. I heard my name first.

"Carl."

I turned around—and there was Summer, standing maybe five feet behind us with her arms crossed. She wasn't smiling.

Alan paused mid-step. His whole posture tensed beside me.

"Hey," I said, cautious.

"You guys have a second?" Her voice wasn't angry, exactly. Just... pointed.

Alan glanced at me. I gave the smallest nod. "Sure."

She walked toward us and stopped close enough that I could see the tightness around her eyes. She looked like she'd been thinking about this conversation for a while.

"I'm just gonna ask you," she said. "Are you two... together?"

There it was.

No stammering. No dramatic whispering behind closed doors. Just a direct question from someone who had clearly had enough of guessing.

Alan didn't move. His shoulders rose slightly—just a breath—but he didn't speak.

I looked between her and him. Then I said, "Why does it matter?"

"I'm not trying to be a jerk," she replied quickly. "I just... I saw you. At the party. I walked in on something, and then the rumor started, and no one would give me a straight answer. And I just want to know if I was right."

Alan's jaw tightened. "And if you were?"

Summer held his gaze. "Then I'd get it. I'd leave it alone. I just—I felt like I walked into something important that night, and it's been messing with my head."

I swallowed. The hallway had thinned out, but I still didn't love having this conversation here. But something about the way she said it—quiet, serious, no venom—made me soften.

"We are," I said finally. "Together."

Alan blinked, just once, but he didn't stop me. His hand was balled into a fist near his side.

Summer nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. "Okay."

"That night—" I started.

"I'm not mad," she said, cutting me off. "I was surprised. And maybe a little confused, because I guess I'd never thought of you two that way. But I'm not gonna out you. I'm not even gonna talk about it."

Alan finally spoke. "You already kind of did."

Summer winced. "I didn't mean to. I told one person. I swear I didn't know it would blow up like that."

We all stood there for a second, not knowing what to say next. A few students passed us, but no one paid attention.

Alan exhaled. "Just... don't make it a thing."

"I won't," she said. "I promise."

He nodded, and we all started to drift in opposite directions.

But before I turned away, I heard her say, quieter this time, "You guys seem happy. I think that's what got me."

I looked back at her, and for the first time in days, I felt a weird kind of calm settle in my chest.

"Thanks," I said.

And that was it.

Alan and I walked to class in silence after that. He didn't say anything for a while, but right before we sat down, he leaned toward me and murmured, "Thanks for answering."

I shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.

But it was. It really was.

Because even if the whole school didn't know yet, someone did. And it didn't end in disaster.

Maybe we could do this. Maybe we were stronger than the rumors. Stronger than fear.

I slid into my seat and opened my notebook.

Alan passed me a post-it with a tiny doodle on it: a dumb sketch of the two of us standing like stick figures, holding hands under a speech bubble that said "Deal with it."

I grinned.

Yeah. We could definitely do this.