Chapter 8 : A quite distance

Lucas sat at his usual desk, staring at the lunchbox placed carefully in front of him.

Today, it was omelette rice, soft egg folded neatly over warm, seasoned fried rice, with a swirl of ketchup drawn across the top. Beside it, a few slices of fresh apple were arranged with care.

The food smelled amazing, as always, and the box was neat, packed with gentle attention to detail.

Across from him, Evan gave a small smile, then sat down with his own portion.

"Hope you're not tired of omelette rice," Evan said, trying to lighten the silence between them.

Lucas gave a short nod. "It's fine."

That was all.

No smirk, no playful comment. Just two words, curt and hollow.

Evan's smile faltered slightly, but he said nothing.

Lucas picked up his fork and ate, mechanically. The food was good. It always was. But something in him had shifted. The warmth he used to feel from Evan's small gestures, he wasn't sure it had ever been real. Maybe he had confused kindness for something else.

Ever since Kelv's words at the club, Lucas had started seeing Evan differently. Not through his own eyes, but through the lens Kelv had handed him, warped, suspicious, heavy with implication.

He hated how easily it affected him.

He didn't want to believe anything. He didn't want to play a game. But now, even Evan's quiet glances and soft tone made his skin crawl a little.

He told himself: I'm still accepting the food because I don't want to be rude.

I'm not leading him on. I never asked for anything.

This whole thing was Kelv's idea anyway.

The truth was, Lucas had never cared about Evan. Not really. He wasn't interested in making new friends, and especially not with someone like Evan, soft-spoken, awkward, and old-fashioned in a way that made him stand out without trying.

He was new. Plain. And honestly, not very interesting.

But the lunchboxes kept coming, and Lucas kept accepting them, mostly because it was easier than rejecting them. Easier than starting a scene. And easier than dealing with the guilt.

He never once invited Evan to watch his tennis practices. That had always been Kelv's move, made to seem like it came from Lucas. Every moment they shared — Kelv had designed it.

Lucas just… let it happen.

But now, even that felt wrong.

So, day by day, he started pulling away, not obviously, just small things. Less eye contact. Shorter replies. A growing gap in their conversations. Evan noticed, but said nothing. His hands lingered longer when offering lunch. His eyes searched Lucas's face for a reaction that never came.

Still, he showed up.

Still, he smiled.

---

That afternoon, Evan was walking down the hallway near the physics lab when he slowed near an open classroom door. He recognized the voices inside, they belonged to a few students from their class.

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He was just passing by. But then he heard it.

"…I'm telling you, someone in our class swings the other way."

"No way. Who?"

"Not hard to guess. Who's been feeding Lucas like a puppy every day?"

The others snickered.

"Dude's basically blushing every time he walks by. It's pathetic."

"Do you think Lucas knows?"

"Of course he knows. He's just using it. Free food, free praise. I mean, would you say no?"

Evan froze in the hallway.

His heart stopped, then thudded painfully, like it had dropped from his chest into his stomach. The hallway blurred for a moment. The soft warmth he'd been carrying all morning shattered.

He turned and walked away quickly, gripping his bag tight, head down.

He didn't see the smirks behind him.

He didn't hear the next punchline.

He didn't want to.

And for the first time since arriving at the new college…

Evan wanted to disappear again.