The scent of garlic and butter filled the small kitchen as Evan stood by the stove, stirring a pan of fried rice. He added a splash of soy sauce, a pinch of salt, and a sprinkle of finely chopped scallions. The sizzle made him smile.
He was making two portions, one for himself, and one for Lucas.
On the counter, an egg mixture waited patiently in a bowl. He moved smoothly, pouring it into another pan, letting it set into a soft, golden omelette. Then, carefully, he wrapped the warm fried rice in the egg, folding it just right.
He paused for a second, adjusting the edges. It looked perfect.
As he packed the omelette rice into two lunch boxes, he suddenly stopped and let out a small laugh. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he stood there, staring at nothing.
That match yesterday…
He could still see Lucas on the court, the way his form moved like a professional, the sound of his sneakers hitting the ground, the focus in his eyes. Every swing of his racket looked powerful, controlled, and confident.
It was beautiful.
He looked amazing.
Evan felt his heart thump hard in his chest.
Once.
Then again.
His hands froze mid-motion.
What is this?
He glanced down at the food, then over at the second bento box he was packing. A box he hadn't even been asked to make. He just… wanted to.
Why does my chest feel like this?
Evan frowned to himself. He had never been in love. He'd never even had a crush. Growing up, he was the quiet one, the one who kept his head low, the one who avoided eye contact. He never dared to like anyone.
He didn't look like someone people noticed.
He was short. A little chubby. His face wasn't particularly sharp, with his small, sleepy-looking eyes that came from his Japanese mother, and soft cheeks inherited from his American-Chinese father. He never fit into any mold.
They had moved to Florida two years ago because of his father's overseas assignment. But once the job ended, they'd be returning to Japan. That had always been the plan.
So… what was he doing getting attached?
Maybe it's just admiration, he told himself. Lucas is amazing at tennis. Everyone thinks so.
Still, as he sealed the bento boxes and put them into his bag, the strange feeling wouldn't go away.
But today, it didn't scare him. It made him… happy.
He left for college with a light step, whistling softly, heart warm and full.
---
Meanwhile, at college, the atmosphere wasn't as gentle.
The whispers had started that morning. Low voices in the hallway. Lingering stares. Quick glances that turned into quiet laughter.
"Did you hear?"
"They say the new kid, Evan, he's into Lucas."
"Like into into."
"Are you serious?"
"He always stares at him. And he brings him lunch, like, every day."
The gossip was spreading, fast and quiet like wildfire in dry grass.
By mid-morning, even students from other departments were murmuring. Some laughed it off. Others raised their eyebrows. A few frowned.
In the locker room, Kelv overheard two juniors snickering while checking their phones.
"Guess he's got a type."
"Do you think Lucas knows?"
"Maybe he likes it. Free food, free attention.."
"Enough."
Kelv's voice cut sharp through the space.
The two boys turned, startled.
Kelv stepped forward, calm but cold. "You think this is funny? You think it's time to humiliate him already?"
One of them shifted. "We're just talking.."
"Well, shut up. This isn't the moment. And if any of you touch him, say something out loud, or pull something dumb before I say so," Kelv's smile twisted slightly, "then you're the one I'll embarrass."
The boys went silent.
Kelv turned and walked away, his expression unreadable.
Because while he played the game better than anyone, he also knew how dangerous it could get.
And Evan? Evan had no idea that the world was already shifting beneath his feet.
He was still smiling when he arrived at class, lunchbox in hand, and Lucas already in his seat, waiting.