My first crush (COMPLETED)√

Chapter 32: secrets

"Sharon, please... just come home. Dad cares too." Carly's voice softened into a plea.

I stared at the wall, unwilling to let her hear the conflict twisting inside me.
"Uhn... I'll think about it later. Bye."

I ended the call before she could respond.

"Hello? Hel—... shit. She hung up on me." Carly's voice faded into silence.

Stephen's POV

The flowers trembled slightly in my hands as I placed them on Jemma's grave. The earth above her was still too fresh, too real — a reminder I could never escape.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my throat tightening. "I know i don't deserve your forgiveness."

Guilt weighed on me like chains. I ruined her life that night. The secret I carried had eaten away at me ever since.

I closed my eyes.

And the memories came rushing back.

⸻

One Year Ago
The room smelled of alcohol and sweat. Music pulsed faintly through the walls while laughter bounced around my bedroom. We were drunk — reckless — invincible in the foolish way young men often believed themselves to be.

"Hey guys... let's play a game," I slurred, grinning.

"What game now?" Andrey asked lazily, sprawled across a cushion.

"Yeah, what game?" Stiles chimed in, while Nick kept sipping from his bottle.

I chuckled, careless, not thinking beyond the moment.
"First girl who walks in... she's ours."

They laughed. Jokes flew around — crude, stupid, meaningless at the time. I laughed with them. I didn't stop it. I didn't stop anything.

Then the door opened.

She stepped in hesitantly — young, nervous, unfamiliar with the house.
"Oh... sorry," she said softly. "I think I came into the wrong room. It's my first time at one of your parties."

I locked the door.

The sound echoed louder than it should have.

"What are you doing?" Jemma's voice trembled.

"Relax," I said, pretending charm, pretending control. But what followed was chaos — pressure, fear, and choices I can never undo.

Her protests, her tears... they should have stopped me.

They didn't.

None of us acted like decent human beings that night.
We were drunk. Reckless. Cruel.

And by the time reality cut through the haze, she wasn't moving.

Silence replaced laughter.

Panic replaced arrogance.

"Guys... she's not breathing," I said, my voice shaking.

Fear swallowed us whole. Instead of facing the consequences, we buried the truth — literally and figuratively — convincing ourselves it would disappear if hidden deep enough.

But guilt doesn't stay buried.

It follows you.

It lives with you.

⸻

Present
"I'm sorry, Jemma," I murmured again at the grave. "I regret that day more than anything. I swear... I'll never become that person again."

The wind rustled quietly through the trees, offering no forgiveness.

⸻

Sharon's POV

Later that evening, I stretched my arms after hours of lounging around alone. The quiet house felt liberating — no rules, no tension.

"What I need right now... is music."

I turned on the TV and let the beat fill the room. Soon I was dancing freely, laughing to myself, letting my body move however it wanted. For a moment, everything felt light.

Until voices erupted behind me.

"Oooh—" someone whistled.

I spun around, mortified.

Stephen and his friends stood there, clearly having watched for longer than I realized.

"I didn't know my girl could dance like that," Stephen said, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Why hadn't I locked the door?

"You killed it, Sharon," Nick teased, nudging Stephen.

I laughed awkwardly, stepping into Stephen's arms. I had missed him more than I'd admit.

"I always knew how to dance," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He leaned closer, playful and warm.
"Well... maybe you'll show me more later."

I pressed a finger to his lips, smiling.
"Not with an audience."

His friends groaned dramatically.

"What you need right now is a housekeeper ," I joked.

"That'd be a terrible idea," he replied.

"Why?"

He smirked.
"Because I'd flirt too much."

I tapped him lightly, laughing.
"Idiot."

The room filled with teasing sounds from his friends, and despite myself, I smiled. The moment felt normal — easy.

But beneath it all, something unspoken lingered in Stephen's silence... something I couldn't yet see.