Chapter 2: Shattered

Before I confessed to Derek, I’d already braced myself for rejection. But I honestly thought it would just be a regular confession. Two options: if it worked, we’d be together; if not, we’d just go our separate ways. That’s what all those coming-out videos and self-help blogs said. Just be honest, and the chips will fall where they may.

But after Derek’s post—“My roommate just confessed to me. Bro, seriously? Not what I signed up for. SMH.”—blew up on the campus app, I knew my life would never be ordinary again. Every time I crossed campus, I felt the stares, heard the invisible whispers in the cafeteria, watched the hallways shrink around me. People I barely knew now had a reason to look at me. A heavy, suffocating pain pressed down on my chest. I clutched the ballpoint pen in my hand. This was Derek’s answer. Guess that’s what I get for shooting my shot. For believing in my own naive confidence.

Liking guys is perverted, disgusting—a stain so filthy no one wants to mention it. And yet, I’d believed I just happened to like a guy. That it didn’t make me any different. Yeah, right. Who was I kidding?

Enduring stares the whole way, I made it back to the dorm, pale-faced. The other three roommates were all there, deep in discussion. But as soon as I opened the door, the room went silent. Three pairs of eyes turned to me at once.

The acrid smell of rubbing alcohol mixed with leftover pizza crusts and dirty laundry. My comforter and pillow were dumped in the middle of the floor—soaked. Someone had poured rubbing alcohol all over them. The cheap fabric reeked, a sharp chemical stench crawling up my nose. I stopped in the doorway, suitcase in hand, mouth dry.

Dorm leader Marcus Quinn looked at me with disgust, then turned to put on a surgical mask. “Who knows what kind of germs freaks like you carry.”

“Disinfecting’s the least we can do,” he muttered, opening up his laptop. “Damn, sharing a dorm with a freak—just my luck.”

He glanced around at the others. “Did you guys already file the roommate swap forms? I’m not sticking around for this.”

He mumbled about calling his mom to Venmo him money for extra Lysol. The faint blue glow from his laptop made his face look even colder.

My hand paused as I pulled out my chair. Changing rooms? They want to change rooms? Just because I... like guys? My eyes dimmed. I glanced at the desk next to mine. “Derek, you agree too?”

Derek sprawled at his desk, legs crossed, expressionless as he played his game. When he heard me, his fingers paused slightly. He looked up and stared at me in silence. Then, under the gaze of the other two, he curled his lips into a cold smile: “What else?”

He said it so easily, like this was nothing, like I was just an inconvenience that needed to be wiped away.