The departmental awards ceremony took place in Harrison Auditorium, all wood paneling and academic portraits staring down from walls. Adrian sat in the third row, Isabella on one side, parents on the other. Adrian's father kept checking his watch. Adrian's mother clutched a program like it was evidence of something important.
Professor Chen stood at the podium, reading from prepared remarks. "The undergraduate research prize this year goes to a paper that demonstrates exceptional insight into interpersonal dynamics. 'Competition as Emotional Proxy: How Rivalry Masks Attachment in Long-Term Relationships' by Adrian Hayes."
Adrian's lungs forgot how to work.
Isabella squeezed Adrian's hand. "Go! That's you!"
Adrian stood. Legs unsteady. Walked to the stage while applause filled the space. Accepted the certificate and small plaque from Professor Chen, shook hands, smiled for the photographer.
"Your analysis was remarkably perceptive," Professor Chen said quietly. "Particularly your conclusion that rivalry often functions as socially acceptable framework for obsessive attention that would otherwise require examination."
Adrian's throat closed. "Thank you, sir."
Turned to face the audience. Found parents beaming. Found Isabella radiant with pride. Found Sage giving a thumbs up from the back row.
Found Dante.
Six rows back, aisle seat. Present for something else—some other event in the building. But there. Looking directly at Adrian.
Their eyes locked. Two seconds. Five. Ten.
Then Dante stood. Not reluctantly. Not with visible effort. Just—stood. And clapped. Hands meeting with steady rhythm, expression unreadable except for the slight nod. Once. Acknowledgment.
Not rivalry. Not competition. Just: I see you. You did this. It matters.
Something in Adrian's chest cracked open.
Adrian returned to his seat. Heard nothing else from the ceremony. Too busy feeling the way Dante's nod had reverberated through Adrian's entire system like a struck bell.
First time. First time Dante had acknowledged Adrian's success without framework of competition attached. No scorekeeping. No comparison. Just recognition that Adrian had achieved something worth acknowledging.
Maybe—maybe Adrian could do this. Could be someone beyond "Dante's rival." Could establish identity that didn't require Dante's presence or absence to define itself. Could move on.
The thought tasted like possibility.
Adrian's parents left after the ceremony. Hugs, congratulations, promises to call. Adrian's father mentioned his brother—the MIT PhD candidate—twice, but with less comparison than usual. Progress, maybe.
Isabella waited outside Harrison, leaning against the brick facade, scrolling through her phone. Looked up when Adrian emerged, smile genuine.
"Reservations at Riverside," Isabella announced. "We're celebrating properly."
"You didn't have to—"
"Adrian. You won a departmental prize. For research. As a freshman." Isabella linked her arm through Adrian's. "We're celebrating."
Riverside Restaurant sat two miles off campus, perched over the water with floor-to-ceiling windows. Tablecloths, multiple forks, the kind of place that made college students check their bank accounts nervously.
Isabella ordered wine. They toasted. Conversation flowed—Isabella's organic chemistry midterm, Adrian's upcoming physics lab report, campus gossip about which professor was allegedly sleeping with a grad student.
Normal. Easy. Everything a relationship should be.
"You know what I love about this?" Isabella said, fork pausing over her salmon. "This is yours. This award. Dante wasn't involved. You proved you're extraordinary on your own."
Adrian wanted to feel the truth of that. Wanted Isabella's words to settle into Adrian's bones and build new foundation.
"See?" Isabella continued. "You don't need to compete with him to be extraordinary. You're amazing on your own."
Adrian nodded. "Yeah."
"You seem uncertain."
"No, I—you're right. I know you're right."
Isabella reached across the table, covered Adrian's hand with hers. "I'm proud of you. Really proud."
Adrian leaned forward. Kissed Isabella. Tried to access whatever spark was supposed to ignite during moments like this—successful date, supportive girlfriend, first solo achievement.
Found adequacy instead. Found fine.
Isabella kissed back. When they separated, her smile stayed warm but something in her eyes looked careful. Watchful.
"More wine?" Isabella asked.
"Sure."
Walking back to campus, river wind cutting through Adrian's jacket, clarity arrived. Decision crystallized from the fog of uncertainty that had characterized the past months.
Adrian was going to commit. Really commit this time. Ask Isabella to be his official girlfriend—remove the ambiguity, establish clear labels, move forward into defined relationship. Stop looking back at Dante. Stop tracking Dante's schedule. Stop caring about Dante's expressions and tells and location on Find My Friends.
Choose Isabella. Choose forward motion. Choose becoming someone new.
The determination felt solid. Real. Like Adrian could actually do this.
Room 447B's door swung open. Adrian expected empty space—Dante had mentioned staying late at the library for group project work.
Instead: Dante. Shoving clothes into a duffel bag, movements efficient and practiced.
"Going somewhere?" Adrian asked.
Dante didn't look up. "Marcus invited me to spend the weekend at his apartment. Leaving in twenty minutes. Won't be back until Monday."
Something in Dante's tone registered wrong. Too casual. Too deliberately unconcerned. Dante's shoulders held tension that contradicted the easy words.
"Oh." Adrian set down his own bag. "Have fun."
Should feel relieved. Three days without navigating Dante's presence, without the constant awareness, without the weight of unspoken everything pressing down. Three days to focus on Isabella, on the decision Adrian had made, on moving forward.
Instead: sick. Adrian felt sick. Stomach dropping, chest constricting sick.
Dante zipped the bag. Grabbed keys from the desk. Paused at the door, hand on the handle.
"Congratulations," Dante said. Still not looking at Adrian. "On the award. You deserved it."
Then Dante left. Door closing with quiet click. Footsteps fading down the hallway.
Adrian stood in the sudden silence. The room felt cavernous. Empty in ways that had nothing to do with physical space.
Adrian's phone buzzed. Text from Isabella: I'm so proud of you. You're going to do amazing things.
Adrian typed back: Thanks
Set the phone on the desk. Stared at the screen. At Dante's contact name near the top of recent messages. Finger hovered over it. Could open the thread. Could type something. Could—
What? What would Adrian say? Have fun with your boyfriend? Don't spend the weekend having sex in Marcus's apartment? Come back?
Adrian didn't text. But didn't put the phone down either.
Just sat there. In the quiet room. With the award certificate in his bag and Isabella's proud message on his screen and the hollow sensation in Adrian's chest that shouldn't exist. Not today. Not after finally winning something.
The plaque sat on Adrian's desk. "Adrian Hayes. Competition as Emotional Proxy: How Rivalry Masks Attachment in Long-Term Relationships."
Adrian had written that paper analyzing eighteen years of his own life without fully recognizing it. Had described, in academic language with proper citations, exactly what existed between Adrian and Dante. Had won a prize for explaining the thing Adrian couldn't acknowledge directly.
Professor Chen's words echoed: "Rivalry often functions as socially acceptable framework for obsessive attention that would otherwise require examination."
Adrian picked up the phone again. Dante's contact. Finger hovering.
The screen showed their last message exchange from three days ago:
Dante: Taking the shower first
Adrian: ok
Before that: logistics. Schedules. Minimal communication maintaining the ghost protocol they'd never officially established but both rigorously maintained.
Adrian scrolled back further. Found messages from before the semester started. Before college. Before everything changed.
Dante: heard you got into Greystone
Adrian: yeah you too apparently
Dante: guess we can't escape each other
Adrian: guess not
Simple. Almost friendly. The summer before freshman year when they'd learned about the fourth random roommate assignment and had briefly—very briefly—considered that maybe college would be different. That maybe they could be different.
Adrian locked the phone. Set it down. Picked it up again.
The victory felt meaningless. Worse than meaningless—actively hollow. Like Adrian had won a prize for describing a problem Adrian refused to solve.
Isabella's message still glowed on the screen. I'm so proud of you.
Adrian should call her. Should ask her to be his official girlfriend tonight, right now, seal the commitment Adrian had decided on. Move forward with conviction instead of hesitation.
Adrian opened the text thread with Isabella. Typed: Can we talk tomorrow?
Deleted it. Typed: I need to tell you something.
Deleted that too.
Finally typed: Thanks again for tonight. It was really nice.
Sent before Adrian could delete a third time.
Isabella responded immediately: Sleep well! You earned it 💕
The heart emoji sat on the screen. Evidence of affection, of relationship, of someone who cared about Adrian enough to celebrate his victories and text enthusiastically and use emojis that meant feeling.
Adrian felt nothing looking at it. Not warmth. Not affection. Not anything.
Just the sick sensation of Dante packing a bag. Of Dante spending the weekend in Marcus's apartment. Of Dante's careful congratulations before leaving.
Of Dante's nod at the ceremony. The acknowledgment that had mattered more than the actual award.
Adrian lay down on the bed. Fully clothed. Lights still on. Stared at the ceiling tiles. Seven water stains plus one shadow. Familiar geography of a room that felt empty despite containing all of Adrian's belongings.
The phone sat on Adrian's chest. Heavy. Loaded with possibility and paralysis in equal measure.
Adrian could text Dante. Could say—what? Congratulations on your weekend with your boyfriend? Don't forget to use protection? I'm going to ask Isabella to be my official girlfriend so we should probably stop whatever this is?
Except there was no "this." Just Adrian being unable to let go while Dante moved forward. Just Adrian tracking Dante's location and reading Dante's expressions and knowing Dante's schedules while Dante lived actual life with actual boyfriend who could actually offer what Adrian couldn't.
The award certificate crinkled in Adrian's bag. "Competition as Emotional Proxy: How Rivalry Masks Attachment in Long-Term Relationships."
Adrian had written thirty pages explaining exactly what was happening. Had cited sources. Had built theoretical framework. Had won recognition for insight and analysis.
And still couldn't do anything about it.
The phone's screen went dark. Adrian didn't unlock it. Just lay there with its weight on Adrian's chest, finger not quite touching the screen, caught between action and inaction.
Between moving forward with Isabella and staying trapped in orbit around Dante.
Between the person Adrian should be and the person Adrian apparently was.
The victory felt like losing. The achievement felt like failure.
And Adrian had absolutely no idea what to do about it.