Playing Straight: Our Dirty Little Secret
Alex Reed tugged on a white shirt and a pair of faded jeans, barely glancing at the mirror.
Normally, he dressed to impress but not today.
Today wasn’t about looking good. It was about showing up. He didn’t want to go. He never did.
High school reunions were nothing but awkward hugs, fake laughter, and whispered gossip. Still, if he skipped another one, people would talk. The former golden boy of Westview High—the star striker, the prom king—absent again? They’d have a field day. Not that he cared. Not really.
But this one was different. Nico was back.
Alex laced his shoes slower than necessary, his fingers fumbling. He hadn’t told his mom he was going. She’d been shocked when he called to ask for casual outfit ideas, probably thinking he’d finally grown nostalgic. She had no idea he was walking into this reunion with his head a mess and his chest too tight. It had been years. Nico was just a face from the past.
A quiet kid with sharp eyes and messy dark hair. He’d barely spoken in high school—but he’d watched. Alex had noticed. He’d noticed everything. The way Nico disappeared when things got loud. The way he looked at Alex when he thought no one saw.
Back then, Alex had been too busy chasing girls and applause to think twice. But late at night… sometimes, he’d wondered. He shook off the thought, shoving it back into the mental box where it belonged. That was then. This was now.
"Get a grip," he muttered. "Alex Reed. You've got this."
*
*
*
Nico Vante dropped his duffel bag on the lumpy hotel bed and glanced around the room. It was exactly what he expected—small-town plain. Two sad-looking mattresses, a creaky chair, and a TV from the Stone Age.
“Westview,” he muttered, as if saying the town’s name might make it feel less suffocating. It didn’t.
He hadn’t come back for nostalgia. He’d come for different reasons but the main one was to show them all that the poor kid from the trailer park wasn’t just doing okay—he was thriving. He slipped on a sleek black shirt and adjusted the cuffs. Simple, clean, expensive. He didn’t need anyone’s approval—but he wouldn’t mind their shock.
Reunions were a terrible idea, but his mom had begged him to go. She wanted to see the look on those snobby faces when they realized what he’d become. Still, he wasn’t here for them. Not really. He was here for Alex.
The boy everyone loved. The one who never noticed him. The one he used to dream about and then hate himself for dreaming. Nico had buried that part of himself under ambition and distance.
But now, back in this town—he wasn’t so sure it had stayed buried. With a deep breath, he checked his watch, ran a hand through his hair, and left the room. It was time to see what ten years had changed—and what hadn’t.
