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Frustration flares hot in my chest. “Fine. If you want to go, then go. You got me into this.”

“You agreed to it,” Dante growls at me.

“You stalked me! You followed me around and got under my skin until I couldn’t take it anymore, until I realized that I’m a fucking faggot and—” I stop as I realize what I’ve said.

Dante stares at me. “I never made you do anything, but I sure as hell see how you feel now.” He grabs his things off the bed and shoves them into his bag.

“Wait,” I say, but he’s already storming out. “I don’t even understand what’s happening right now. All I want to do is help you!”

“You can help by figuring out what the fuck you want. You don’t wanna do the ritual, you don’t have to, but I’m not gonna be with you in secret anymore, Ethan.”

I follow him out of my room, but it’s too late. I can’t get anything out of my mouth or do anything to stop him as he disappears out the door.

It takes a moment for me to realize what’s happened.

Did we just break up?

I feel numb. For a solid sixty seconds, anyway. I slowly walk back to my bedroom and sit on the end of the bed, then stare at the floor.

Then it feels like a hole is being drilled straight through my chest. Tears stream down my face and I try to wipe them away faster than they come, but to no avail. One breath turns into twenty breaths in one, and my head spins.

“What the fuck just happened?!” I sob to myself. Ten minutes ago, I was happy. Things weren’t perfect, but it felt so good to finally know who I am and have my boyfriend studying with me. No feeling like I was pretending, or like something was wrong with me. Knowing that after studying we’d end up in my bed touching each other’s bodies and I wouldn’t feel terrified of it.

Now all of that was apparently over.

I can’t keep myself upright. I curl up on my side and cry into the bed, which still smells like Dante and me, a perfect mixture of both of us that can’t be recreated.

I’m nauseous. My head hurts. My chest hurts. I can’t stop trembling. This hurts more than losing my first girlfriend, more than losing Lena. More than anything has hurt in a very long time.

Time passes in a way that doesn’t make sense to me. It could be an hour, or twelve, I have no fucking idea, because I don’t leave my bed. My laptop sits untouched on my desk,fan whirring gently until the battery gets close to dead and the screen turns off to save it.

My room grows dark. Eventually I fall asleep, too tired to keep crying anymore, too tired to get up and do anything. I feel weak.

I feel like the biggest dick on the face of the planet…well, besides Dante.

I hate him.

I want him.

What have I gotten myself into?

When I finally wake up, my face is sticky, my nose stuffy, and my heart’s still aching. I don’t stay in bed, mostly because it reminds me too much of Dante. Instead, Nathan picks me up and we get some fried chicken and eat it in his car in my parking lot.

“I didn’t think I was hungry, but I needed this,” I admit as I wipe my greasy hands on a napkin.

I’m still sniffling and trying to keep my composure. I’ve already broken down once since we’ve been in the car, and I don’t want to make things worse.

“Yeah, man, you gotta take care of yourself,” Nathan tells me.

I take a shaky breath. “I can’t believe it’s over. I don’t understand.”

“Me either, honestly,” he mumbles. “What’s going on, Ethan?”

I bite at my lip and shake my head. “It’s a lot. It could put you in danger.”

“Shit. Then I really wanna know.” He turns in the driver’s seat to look at me as he sips from a mostly empty cup of soda.

I groan. “Fine. Dante’s family is the mafia, or in the mafia. There are several families in the city and state who are part of the mafia, but they all want control, so some of them are allied to each other, and others aren’t—” I’m rambling, but before I can get everything out, Nathan stops me.