Monday Morning – Rafe

I woke up to sunlight bleeding through the curtains and the faint ache in my neck from falling asleep with the phone still pressed to my ear.

The call had disconnected sometime in the early hours, but the sound of Eli’s voice lingered like a ghost—quiet, cracked around the edges, honest in ways that made my chest feel too full.

I rubbed my eyes, sat up slowly. The house was still quiet. My aunt was probably already gone—if she’d ever come home last night. The only sign she existed was a half-empty wine glass in the sink and a coat tossed over a chair.

No note. No breakfast.

No surprise.

I got up anyway and made two peanut butter sandwiches—one for me, one for him—and shoved them into brown paper bags along with a bruised banana and the last blueberry muffin I could find. The kitchen always felt cold, but this morning it felt colder. Like I was the only person here who ever bothered trying.

I texted him.

Did you sleep okay? Text me when you wake up. Seriously. Or I’ll worry. Not kidding.

I stared at the screen for a while before I got a reply.

Woke up. Barely human. You’re dramatic.

A smile tugged at my mouth before I even realized it.

Says the boy who calls me at 3am and then falls asleep mid-sentence.

Shut up.

Make me.

God. The way he bantered—like it cost him something, like it was a quiet kind of trust—it made me want to protect him even more than I already did.

Even from himself.

I threw on my hoodie, slung my bag over my shoulder, and left the house before it started feeling too empty again. The walk to school was short, but it gave me time to brace myself—to stop wondering if Eli would show up at all.

Part of me feared he wouldn’t.

Another part of me... knew he would.

I waited near the side entrance, back to the wall, pretending not to check my phone every thirty seconds.

Then I felt it.

That weird pull in my chest before I even saw him.

Eli.

He looked like hell—tired, pale, hoodie swallowing him whole—but he was here.

His eyes found me. And something in them softened, just for a second.

“You made it,” I said, pushing off the wall.

“You doubted me?”

“Only every five minutes.”

He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but the tension in his shoulders gave him away. He hadn’t had an easy morning.

I didn’t say anything. Just reached into my bag and pulled out the crumpled paper sack.

“Here.”

He blinked. “What’s this?”

“Breakfast. It’s nothing fancy.”

He looked confused. Guarded. Like he wasn’t used to anyone doing something like this for him. It makes my heart ache. 

“My mom used to make muffins like these,” he said, voice low. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Before everything went to shit.”

He took the bag slowly, like it might disappear.

“Thanks,” he said, barely above a whisper.

I didn’t want to crowd him. So I just stood beside him, letting the quiet fill in the spaces between us.

His voice was quieter than usual.

I lowered mine to match. “You okay?”

Eli hesitated.

Then, with a breath: “No. But you are here.” 

That hit harder than I expected. It sounded as if he took his whole heart to say it out. 

My throat tightened, but I nodded. “I am. I will be always be here for you now”

We didn’t hug. Didn’t touch. But something passed between us anyway—real and solid and quietly unshakable.

__________________________________________

We ended up skipping the first class. Sat behind the bleachers where no one cared enough to look. I pulled my knees up, arms draped over them. Eli sat next to me, his knees brought up till his chest 

He fiddle nervously with his fingers then, he said, “I was scared to go home yesterday. I thought he’d be waiting. I kept thinking, what if this is the time he doesn’t stop?”

It must be taking him a lot of courage to tell me that. Does he trust me now? My fist clenched. I want to keep him with me.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” I said.

He was quiet for a long moment.

“I saw my mom in the kitchen,” he went on. “She didn’t even look surprised. Just told me he was still asleep. Like that was enough. Like I should be grateful he wasn’t awake to hurt me.”

His voice cracked.

“And I was. I was grateful.” 

His shitty ungrateful parents. I hate them. I didn’t know if I should reach for him.

But I wanted to. I want to comfort him. I want to hold him.

“You shouldn’t have to feel that way,” I said, throat tight. “No one should.”

He looked at me then. Really looked.

“I felt safer talking to you in the dark than I did in my own house.”

My breath caught. God. 

“You’re all I have right now,” he said. Quiet. Unflinching.

I felt something shift in the air between us. Not love—not yet. But something growing. Fragile and real.

I leaned my shoulder into his, just barely.

“You’ll always have me,” I said. “No matter what.”

I saw his eyes glistening just for a second.

He didn’t pull away.

He didn’t speak.

He just stayed close.

__________________________________________

Lunch Break – Rafe

I didn’t even feel hungry.

Not really.

But I sat with Eli anyway, just to make sure he ate. He hadn’t touched the muffin I brought him this morning—not until I made some dumb joke about blueberries being blue because they’re depressed. Then he rolled his eyes and took a bite like he was doing it just to shut me up.

He looked like he hadn’t slept in a year.

But he was here. In one piece.

We sat under the half-dead tree near the fence. It was quieter here. And Eli didn’t have to pretend to be okay.

“You look like you got hit by a truck,” I said, nudging his sneaker with mine.

Eli glanced at me, chewing slowly. “Thanks, you’re such a confidence booster.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “I try to bring sunshine wherever I go.”

He smiled, just barely.

“Seriously though,” I added, softer, “you okay being here?”

“I don’t know,” he said, honest. “I keep waiting for the floor to fall through.”

“Then I’ll stand under it with you.”

That made him pause.

He didn’t say anything. Just stared at the sandwich in his hand like it was suddenly impossible to look at me.

Then, real quiet, he muttered, “Why do you care so much?”

I blinked. “Because you matter.”

His breath hitched.

I leaned back on my elbows, gave him space to breathe. “You matter to me, Eli. You’re not just some project. You’re not someone I pity. I care because... you’re worth caring about.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it. His throat worked like the words got stuck.

“I don’t know what to do with that,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to do anything,” I said. “Just let it be true.”

We sat in that silence for a while, both of us aware that it meant more than we were saying.

And then, of course, the moment got ruined.

“Aw, look,” came a voice like nails down a chalkboard. “Little Eli found himself a boyfriend.”

I didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Tyler Jameson. Asshole.

Eli stiffened instantly beside me. His whole body shrank, like he was trying to fold into himself and disappear. 

I sat up slowly. Calmly. Don't scare eli. But my jaw tightened.

Tyler strutted up with that stupid swagger like he owned the school. Two of his idiot friends trailed behind him, snickering like backup dancers.

“Didn’t know they let charity cases have lunch now,” Tyler said, eyes locked on Eli. “Or is that part of the new gay agenda?”

I stood up.

He ignored me. Took a step closer to Eli.

“Man, you’re lucky,” Tyler said with a grin. “Wish I had someone to cry to at night. Bet you're real grateful, huh? Bet you're real obedient behind closed doors too—”

That was it.

I didn’t think. I didn’t plan.

I just saw red.

My fist connected with his jaw so fast the sound cracked through the air.

Tyler stumbled back, mouth open in shock. Blood blooming where my knuckles had landed.

“You piece of shit,” I hissed.

He lunged at me, but he was too slow. Too stupid.

I shoved him back into the bench with enough force to make him trip. He scrambled to his feet, swinging wildly, but I ducked and landed another hit—this time to his stomach.

He keeled forward. I pushed him again.

He fell.

His friends didn’t step in. They backed off, unsure. Kids were gathering fast, phones out, gasps and whispers flying like wildfire.

“Rafe!” someone shouted—maybe a teacher. I didn’t hear clearly.

Tyler groaned on the ground, spitting blood. “You’re dead—”

“Don’t talk about him like that again,” I growled. “Don’t even look at him.”

“Jesus Christ,” someone said nearby. “He’s gonna kill him.”

Two teachers shoved through the crowd. One grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me back.

“That’s enough!” she barked. “Rafe Torres, office. Now.”

I didn’t fight her grip.

I let her drag me back, even as my fists shook and my breath came in short, burning gasps.

Because I turned and saw Eli.

He was still sitting on the bench, frozen. Pale. No, no , is he scared of me now? Please don't be. Control yourself rafe— i reminded myself. I can't lose him. My eli. 

But his eyes—God, his eyes didn't looked at me like he scare but kore  like he’d never seen anyone do that before.

Like no one had ever fought for him.