On the Edge of Love (CarlxAlan)

Chapter 36: Alan

It was overcast when I got to Elie's place — one of those pale gray Saturdays that felt like it never fully woke up. The chill in the air had settled in for good, and it felt like everyone I knew had started burrowing into themselves a little more, like the cold gave us all permission to go quiet.

That was fine with me.

Elie didn't ask questions when I showed up with a six-pack of root beer and a bag of popcorn. We settled onto her couch, blankets piled around us, a movie playing that neither of us were really watching. Her little dog climbed into my lap. I scratched behind its ears and let my brain drift.

I was tired.

Tired of thinking. Tired of hearing my name whispered in hallways. Tired of the video. Of Summer. Of the way Carl had looked at me after I pulled back, even though he didn't say anything. He never pushed. That was the worst part — how gentle he'd been while I tried to distance myself from the one person I wanted to run to.

I hadn't talked to him since that night. Not really. Just short replies and careful nods in passing.

"Want another root beer?" Elie asked, halfway through the second movie.

I shook my head, eyes still on the screen. "I'm good."

She sat back down beside me, tucking her legs under her. "You've been quiet today."

I shrugged. "Just tired."

We let the silence stretch again.

Then she paused the movie.

"Alan," she said, voice softer than usual, "you know you can't avoid this forever, right?"

I blinked, my stomach tightening. "Avoid what?"

She gave me a look. "You know what."

I looked away, suddenly wishing I'd stayed home.

She didn't let up. "You're acting like if you ignore it long enough, it'll disappear. But it won't. The video happened. People talked. And you've been hiding ever since."

"I'm not hiding," I muttered.

"You are," she said, not unkindly. "And I get it. I do. But it's starting to feel like you're hiding from Carl too."

I flinched.

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad," she added quickly. "I'm just saying... don't throw something away because other people are uncomfortable with it."

I didn't say anything. My throat felt too tight.

She leaned forward. "I've known for a while, Alan."

My head snapped toward her.

"I didn't need the video to figure it out," she said. "The way you looked at Carl at the pool party? You might as well have been wearing a 'he's mine' sign."

My face went red, but she smiled.

"And it wasn't weird. It was sweet. Really sweet, actually."

I looked down at my hands. "You're not... weirded out?"

"No," she said firmly. "Not at all."

I let out a slow breath, like I'd been holding it in for weeks.

"I don't care what anyone else thinks," she said. "And neither should you. You deserve to be happy, Alan. And from what I've seen? Carl makes you happy. So why are you running from that?"

"I'm scared," I admitted quietly. "That's all."

She nodded. "Of course you are. But love isn't about being fearless. It's about choosing someone even when you're terrified. You don't have to be ready for the world. You just have to be ready for him."

I felt something shift in my chest — a slow unwinding of whatever knot had been tightening since the moment I saw that stupid video online.

Carl had looked at me like I was something to protect. Something worth standing beside.

And I'd walked away.

I didn't want to do that anymore.

I stood up.

Elie raised her eyebrows. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah," I said, grabbing my jacket. "Thanks, Elie."

She smiled. "Tell him I said hi."

I didn't run to my car. I walked. But the second I was behind the wheel, I drove faster than I probably should've. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky dusky and bruised. I pulled into Carl's driveway, heart hammering, headlights cutting through the early dark.

I didn't even text first.

When he opened the door, his expression went still — not angry, not confused. Just quiet.

"Hey," I said, voice soft. "Can we talk?"

He stepped aside without a word.

The warmth from inside hit me like a wave.

And this time, I finally let it.