Danny wasn’t a stranger to rejection.

It wasn’t like he loved experiencing it, but at this point in his life, he had built up a decent amount of resilience.

Getting ghosted on a dating app? Whatever.
Getting dumped by a guy he only sort of liked? Annoying, but manageable.
Confessing to his best friend in high school and getting hit with a lukewarm "I’m flattered, bro”?

That one took years of emotional recovery.

But this?

This was new.

Because this time, Jake wasn’t just rejecting him.

Jake was pretending it never happened.

And worse?

Jake was actively avoiding him.

It started subtly.

Little things that might have gone unnoticed if Danny wasn’t already painfully aware of everything Jake did.

Jake left for class earlier than usual.
Jake started spending more time at the gym—and Danny knew this because he’d overheard Sophie asking, “Dude, are you training for the Olympics?”
Jake suddenly had study sessions he “couldn’t miss”, which was bullshit because Danny had never seen him study a day in his life.

And then there was the most damning proof of all.

For the first time in years—

Jake stopped stealing Danny’s hoodies.

That’s when Danny knew.

Jake was hiding.

At first, Danny tried to ignore it.

It wasn’t like he wanted to talk about what happened.
It wasn’t like he was desperate for closure or lying awake at night thinking about how close Jake had been.

Nope.

Not at all.

It was fine.

So Jake was avoiding him? Whatever.

So Jake ran out of his apartment like his ass was on fire? No big deal.

So Jake looked like he saw a ghost every time their eyes accidentally met across campus?

Okay, that one was a little harder to ignore.

But Danny wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it.

Because that would mean admitting that it mattered.

That it was something.

That he had spent every single second of that night replaying it in his head, wondering what would’ve happened if Jake hadn’t pulled away.

And Danny?

Danny couldn’t afford to think like that.

So instead, he did the only thing he knew how to do.

He buried it.

Deep.

And convinced himself it was nothing.

Danny was a master of self-delusion when necessary.

So when Sophie pulled him aside three days after The Incident™ and said, “What the hell is going on with you and Jake?”

Danny just shrugged.

“Nothing,” he said, taking an aggressive sip of his iced coffee.

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Danny scowled. “I’m serious.”

Sophie scoffed. “Danny, he literally ran away from you in the middle of the night.”

Danny waved a dramatic hand. “He probably just had to poop or something.”

Leo, who had been silently enjoying this exchange up until now, nearly choked on his drink.

“Holy shit,” Leo wheezed. “That is the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Danny pointedly ignored him.

Sophie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Danny. He’s avoiding you.”

Danny shrugged. “So?”

“So,” Sophie said, exasperated, “if this was nothing, why is he acting like a middle schooler who just got caught sending a love letter?”

Danny hated that she had a point.

But he also wasn’t ready to deal with that reality.

So instead, he doubled down.

“It’s fine,” he said firmly. “He’ll get over whatever weird crisis he’s having, and things will go back to normal.”

Sophie and Leo exchanged a look.

Danny didn’t like that look.

Then, after a long pause, Sophie sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“Fine,” she said. “If that’s the story you’re sticking with.”

“It is.”

Leo smirked. “Sure. But when he breaks down and confesses his undying love for you, I want it on record that I called it first.”

Danny rolled his eyes.

And then, just to be an asshole, he stole one of Leo’s fries.

One week after The Incident, Danny finally accepted that this was getting ridiculous.

Because at this point?

Jake was actively putting effort into avoiding him.

Danny had seen him cross the street to avoid walking past him.

Danny had watched him pretend to be busy on his phone to avoid making eye contact.

And the worst offense?

Jake had literally turned around and walked in the opposite direction when he spotted Danny coming toward him in the library.

THE LIBRARY.

Danny hadn’t even been going toward him.

Danny had been minding his own goddamn business, walking into the stacks to find a book, when he spotted Jake.

And Jake?

Jake had seen him, panicked, and immediately spun on his heel like he was about to get arrested.

Danny had stood there, stunned, watching as his best friend made a full-on escape.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Danny wasn’t going to say anything.

He really wasn’t.

But when he got home that night and saw Jake’s keys on the counter—meaning he was actually in the apartment for once—Danny finally snapped.

He stormed into the living room, fully prepared to be the bigger person and just pretend everything was fine.

But then—

Jake looked up from the couch, eyes wide like he’d been caught doing something illegal.

And Danny?

Danny lost every ounce of patience he had left.

“You know,” he said, crossing his arms, “for someone who lives here, I’ve barely seen you all week.”

Jake tensed. “I’ve been busy.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Busy avoiding me?”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “I’m not avoiding you.”

Danny scoffed. “Dude. You sprinted away from me at the library like I was carrying a knife.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “That wasn’t—”

Danny cut him off. “And the gym? The sudden ‘study sessions’? The ‘oh, let me physically cross the street to avoid my best friend’ routine?”

Jake didn’t say anything.

And that?

That just pissed Danny off more.

Because if Jake would just say something, then Danny wouldn’t have to sit here, feeling like an idiot for overanalyzing everything.

For replaying that almost-kiss in his head.

For wondering why Jake looked at him like he was about to kiss him—only to run away instead.

Danny took a breath.

Then, forcing his voice to stay casual, he said, “Look, dude. If you’re weirded out by whatever happened that night, just say so.”

Jake’s eyes flicked to him—sharp, startled.

Danny ignored the way his stomach twisted.

“We were both drunk. It was nothing. So, like. Can you stop acting like I murdered your dog?”

For a second—just a second—Danny saw something flash across Jake’s face.

But then?

Jake just nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, too quickly. “Yeah, it was nothing.”

Danny pretended that didn’t hurt.

“Cool,” Danny said. “Glad we cleared that up.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

But deep down?

He knew.

That hadn’t cleared up anything.