Burn For Me

Chapter 9
Julian - Age 18

Things between Kieran and me had been... strange, to say the least, for a few weeks now.

I wasn't sure how or when it happened, but ever since I called him drunk that night after the party, the easy flow of our conversations had been replaced with something stilted. Forced.

Our usual phone calls that used to last hours were now barely five minutes, cut short with some excuse about practice or needing to study. Our daily texts had dwindled down to occasional: I hope everything's good or you alive? Mostly from me because Kieran barely answered anymore.

And then he canceled our plans to meet up.

I stared at the message on my screen, the excuse flimsy as hell.

Kieran: Yo, Jules, gotta take a rain check this weekend? I can't make it out there. Got too much shit going on. We'll figure out another time.

He didn't even call. Just a text.

I read it over three times, my stomach twisting in knots, before finally typing back.

Me: Yeah. Sure. It's cool. Just let me know when you wanna reschedule.

No question. No argument. Just letting him off the hook like I always did.

I stared at the screen for a few more seconds, hoping, stupidly, that he'd at least follow it up with something else. An apology. An explanation. Anything.

But nothing came.

With a sigh, I locked my phone and tossed it onto my desk, leaning back in my chair as I ran a hand through my hair.

I tried not to let it bother me. Kieran was busy. Football. School. Parties. He had a million things going on, and I couldn't exactly blame him for it, but the hollow feeling in my chest didn't go away.

But it was getting harder to believe that.

It was like... he was pulling away. And I didn't understand why.

Maybe I was just being too sensitive. I told myself not to take it personally, to ignore the ache from the unanswered texts, the missed calls, the way his replies had become shorter, emptier. That the space between us was only getting bigger, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

And the worst part? I couldn't even talk to him about it.

Not when he was the one creating the distance.

I exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling, willing myself to let it go. But no matter how much I tried, it felt like a weight was pressing down on me—a weight I didn't know how to shake.

So, I forced myself to focus on other things. Like Alex.

I had started seeing him here and there, but it was nothing too serious. He was persistent, and I didn't mind. We had gone on a few dates, and he was... nice. Funny. Easy to be around. And unlike Kieran, he actually made an effort to be in my life.

He texted me first.

He asked about my day.

He made me feel wanted in a way that wasn't confusing or complicated.

And maybe that's why I kept seeing him, even though something in me knew I was looking for something in him that wasn't there.

Meanwhile, Kieran was out doing exactly what I expected him to do—hooking up with random girls and partying like he hadn't just completely blown me off. Like I didn't even exist.

Every now and then, I'd see a blurry Snapchat from him with some half-dressed girl sitting in his lap, his arm slung lazily around her shoulders. Or a picture of his dorm littered with beer cans and half-empty bottles.

Once, I even got a text at two in the morning.

Kieran: Jules, you up?

By the time I saw it, it was morning, and I had no idea what the hell he even wanted.

But when I texted him back, he didn't answer.

And maybe I should've asked him what was going on. Maybe I should've confronted him about the way he was acting, the way he was avoiding me like I was some fucking problem he didn't want to deal with.

But I didn't.

Instead, I let the silence stretch between us, let the distance grow. Maybe I was being stubborn. Maybe I was just tired of always being the one to reach out, to hold things together while he acted like nothing was wrong.

Or maybe, deep down, I was afraid of the answer.

Afraid that if I asked, if I pushed, he'd finally say the thing I was starting to believe—

That he didn't need me anymore.

There was a sharp knock on the door.

I blinked, pulled from my thoughts, and pushed myself up from my chair. It was late—too late for someone to just be dropping by unannounced. For a second, my stomach twisted with something stupid, something hopeful. But when I opened the door, it wasn't Kieran standing there.

It was Alex.

He leaned against the doorframe, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, a smirk playing at his lips. "Hey, stranger."

I raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood." He shrugged, but his tone was teasing. "Also, I may or may not be here on a mission."

I sighed, already knowing where this was going. "Alex—"

"Before you say no," he cut in, holding up a finger, "hear me out. There's a party at the house tonight. It's gonna be good. You need to get out of this little cave of yours." He gestured behind me at my dorm, his grin widening. "And I happen to be the perfect guy to help with that."

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "Yeah? And what makes you think I wanna spend my Friday night at a party?"

"Because," he said smoothly, "you need a distraction. And what better distraction than free booze and a night of bad decisions?"

I rolled my eyes, but he wasn't entirely wrong. The tension with Kieran had been gnawing at me, and sitting here stewing over it wasn't helping.

Still, my hesitation must've been obvious because Alex's smirk softened into something more reassuring. "Look, I know this isn't really your thing, but I promise it'll be fine. You'll be with me, and I won't let any of my dumbass frat brothers mess with you."

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. The truth was, these kinds of guys had never really been nice to me. Apart from Kieran, I never had much luck with the popular, beer-chugging, testosterone-filled crowd. I wasn't exactly the life of the party back in high school, and the thought of voluntarily putting myself in that environment again made my stomach churn.

But at the same time... what was the alternative? Sitting here in my dorm, overthinking everything?

I sighed. "Fine."

Alex's grin was instant. "That's what I like to hear."

"But," I warned, holding up a finger, "if it sucks, I'm leaving."

"Fair enough." He pushed off the doorframe and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Now, let's get you out of this depressing-ass room and into some trouble."

I shook my head but let him drag me along anyway. I needed a distraction.

Even if it was just for one night.