The first sign came on Monday morning.
A single phrase, sharp and low, whispered as Simon walked into homeroom.
> "Did you hear?"
He paused just inside the door. The voices weren't loud, but they pierced.
> "Her and her brother."
> "Not real siblings, though. That's what I heard."
> "Still messed up."
Simon's spine stiffened, the blood draining from his face.
Someone knew.
Not just Eddie.
The secret had spread—small and fast, like a spark on dry leaves.
By third period, he felt it everywhere.
The shift in glances. The silences as he passed by. Girls turning to each other with raised brows. Guys pretending not to look, then whispering as soon as his back was turned.
The hallway had become a stage, and he was the actor no one clapped for.
In the cafeteria, it was worse.
He stepped in, tray in hand, and the buzz hit him like static—conversations that paused mid-sentence, eyes darting his way then away. Eddie was nowhere in sight.
Elena sat across the room with her cheer squad. She hadn't touched her food. Her hands were clenched around her phone, eyes locked on the table.
When she finally glanced up and met Simon's eyes, it was brief.
Pained.
Terrified.
They didn't speak until after school.
She found him by the bleachers, hidden between rusted metal and the echo of cleats on the field.
"People are talking," she said. Her voice was a whisper, but it cracked like thunder.
"I know."
"Do you think it was Eddie?"
Simon leaned against the frame. "He didn't take it well."
She wrapped her arms around herself, wind tugging at her sleeves. "This can ruin everything."
"Then let it," Simon said. "I'd rather be ruined with you than safe without you."
Elena looked at him like he was both her worst fear and her only refuge.
"But I'm scared," she admitted. "Of losing school. Friends. Mom."
Simon stepped closer, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Then we face it together."
She leaned into his touch, but the uncertainty in her eyes didn't fade.
That night, the apartment felt hollow.
Their mother worked late again, and the silence inside the walls pressed down like a weight neither of them could lift.
They sat on Elena's bedroom floor, backs against her bed. Music played softly from her speaker—something wordless and haunting.
"I used to think I had everything figured out," Elena whispered. "Cheer captain. Perfect boyfriend. Bright future."
Simon didn't speak.
"And then you kissed me," she continued, "and I started questioning everything I thought I knew about myself."
He turned to her. "I never wanted to hurt you."
"You didn't," she said. "You woke me up."
She leaned her head on his shoulder, and they sat there in silence, letting the weight of the world press in on all sides. But inside that small space between them, there was warmth.
A quiet flame still burning.
The next morning, things got worse.
A post went up on a student-run gossip account:
> "Step-siblings or something more? 👀🔥Can't wait for the next family dinner…"
Below it, a blurry photo. The back of Simon's head. Elena's figure beside him. Taken at a distance—but unmistakably intimate.
Simon stared at the screen, bile rising in his throat.
He scrolled through the comments.
> "That's sick."
"Why is this real?"
"Still hot tho."
"I heard it started over summer…"
He shut his phone and stared at the wall.
It was out now. Fully.
And there was no going back.
After school, Eddie caught up to Elena before she could leave the parking lot.
Simon wasn't there. He only heard about it afterward—from three different people.
They said Eddie had cornered her by the bike racks, his voice sharp, his fists clenched.
They said she didn't cry, but her face went pale.
They said he called her a liar. A fraud.
That he asked her if everything they'd had was fake.
And she didn't deny it.
Not once.
When she came home, she walked into Simon's room without knocking. Her face was tight, jaw clenched.
"He knows for sure now," she said.
"I know."
"He's furious."
"I figured."
Then, softer: "I didn't deny it."
Simon looked at her, really looked, and saw how broken she was holding herself together.
And how beautiful she still looked, even when falling apart.
"I won't let this destroy you," he said.
Elena moved toward him, and in a heartbeat, she was in his arms. Clutching. Shaking. Silent tears soaking into his shoulder.
"Promise me," she whispered.
"I promise."
Outside, the city thundered on.
But inside their room, they held onto the only truth they had left.
Each other.