Time crawled.Nurse Hartley had stepped out to check on a student in another room, leaving Ethan alone with the buzzing lights and his rattling nerves.

  His fingers kept tightening around the neckce under his hoodie — as if holding it down might stop the truth from leaking out of him.

  He was on the edge of dozing when footsteps returned. Not the nurse’s light, quick step. He knew this one.

  Alex.

  Ethan didn’t move — pretended to be asleep. Maybe Alex would just—

  “Stop faking, man. You breathe loud when you’re awake.”

  Ethan opened one eye. “I hate that you know that.”

  Alex shrugged, sitting down in the pstic chair beside the cot. “Yeah, well, you’re terrible at pretending nothing’s wrong, too.”

  Silence.Heavy. But not cruel.

  Alex leaned forward, elbows on knees.He hesitated — fidgeted — then:

  “…Look. I get I screwed up earlier. I just freaked out. You scared the shit out of me.”

  Ethan didn’t respond.

  Then Alex’s eyes flicked down toward the neckce beneath the hoodie.

  “So.”A beat.“That thing. Can I see it?”

  Ethan’s whole body tensed — instinctive, panicked.

  “Why?”

  Alex frowned, confused but gentle. “Because you came to school wearing jewelry when you look like hell, and I’ve known you since we were eight. That’s… weird for you. And weird means something’s up. So can I just— see it?”

  Ethan forced a ugh. It sounded brittle as gss.

  “It’s just— just a thing I found. Doesn’t matter.”

  “Then it’s fine if I hold it, right?”

  Ethan’s pulse spiked.

  “No,” he snapped — too fast. Too sharp.

  Alex blinked. “Chill. I’m not gonna eat it. I just want to—”

  “No.”Stronger this time.That one word shook, like it was holding back everything else.

  Alex’s expression shifted — curiosity turning to realization, suspicion, then soft frustration.

  “…What is that neckce to you?”

  Ethan’s throat locked up.

  He couldn’t say it.Couldn’t expin the warmth, the comfort, the life it offered him — the self it gave him.He’d rather bleed than tell Alex he needed it.

  “And don’t bullshit me again,” Alex added quietly. “You’re bad at it.”

  Silence. Ethan stared at the floor.

  Finally he muttered, voice cracking:

  “It’s mine.”

  Alex deadpanned. “No shit. That’s not what I—”

  “It’s mine, Alex.”Every sylble heavy.Terrified. Possessive. Sad.

  “Okay,” Alex said slowly. “But why does touching it freak you out so much?”

  Ethan couldn’t answer. If he opened his mouth, everything might pour out.

  I don’t want to be him.I don’t feel right as him.I need her.I need to be Eri.

  Instead, voice barely a whisper:

  “…Please don’t ask that.”

  Alex stared at him — and for once, he didn’t push. He sat back, jaw tight, hurting for him.

  “Alright,” he breathed. “But whatever this is? You don’t have to go through it alone, man. I’m here. Even if it’s weird. Even if it’s… something you think I won’t get.”

  Ethan pressed his hand over the neckce again, clutching it like it was keeping his heart beating.

  “Thanks,” he murmured.But in his head:

  You can’t help me.Not unless you’d accept her.

  Alex stayed quiet a moment, then stood up.

  “I’ll be back after lunch. Don’t run.”

  He paused at the door, looking back once.

  “And Ethan? If you ever need to tell me something… weird?”A half–smirk, half-pleading look.“I can handle weird.”

  The door clicked shut.

  Ethan didn’t breathe for a full five seconds.

  Then he whispered into the empty room:

  “…I hope so.”

  Because soon — he wouldn’t be able to hide Eri anymore.

  And he had no idea whether Alex would still stand beside him when he met her