Shane stared out through the open doorway for what felt like forever. He kept hoping Zach would come running back up the stairs and sweep Shane up in his arms. He hoped he’d say he was sorry, that leaving had been a mistake. That he loved Shane too.

But he didn’t come back.

Shane stepped forward and eased the door closed, then leaned against it, eyes closing tightly. His jaw clenched from the effort of holding back tears, and his fist thunked against the door beside his head a few times, making it rattle. It did nothing to relieve his frustration or his heartbreak.

He’d really fucked things up this time.

Why the hell had he listened to some old lady’s advice? Of course it was too soon to tell Zach he loved him. The guy had nearly gotten married just months ago. Shane couldn’t imagine how much that would mess a person up, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have gotten over that very quickly. But he had hoped maybe Zach felt the same, enough that they could work past his issues. Maybe start thinking about their own future together instead.

Now he wasn’t even sure if Zach would ever want to see him again.

He stood there for a good while, tears slowly dripping onto his chest, leaving little dark stains in his shirt. His breathing came uneven at first, but eventually he managed to regain some semblance of control. Once he was sure the room wouldn’t start spinning around him, he pushed away from the door and stepped over to the couch, sinking down into the cushions. The springs creaked as he flopped over and curled in on himself.

Maybe Zach didn’t actually love him at all. Zach had warned him that first night they met that he didn’t want to use Shane as a rebound. He hadn’t listened to that advice, and still let himself fall for Zach anyway. He had been so certain Zach was into him, but maybe he was just chasing a high to help drag him out of the depressed pit he was in. Maybe it was all just a fantasy to help him get over his ex.

He sure felt like an idiot now.

The candles slowly melted around him. The wax dripped down, pooling into the little holders containing them. It wasn’t until several of the little flames had gone out entirely from the wick sinking into melted wax that he found the energy to move again. The meal he’d spent all evening making was left on the table, now cold. He didn’t bother cleaning it up. He went around and blew out the remaining candles, one by one, until all that was left were the Christmas lights illuminating the room. He didn’t want to go to the bedroom and spend the time cleaning up the rose petals he’d scattered, so instead he returned to the couch and curled up there.

He wanted desperately to talk to someone. Anyone. But he didn’t know who he could call. He had plenty of acquaintances, but no one he felt comfortable unloading all of these intense emotions to.

No, Shane knew exactly who he wanted to talk to. He just couldn’t, because they were gone. They’d been gone for a long time.

He wanted his mother to come and hold him while he cried. He wanted to taste a home-cooked meal made just to comfort him. If he closed his eyes tight enough, he could almost remember how it had felt when she brushed her fingers over his head when he laid down to sleep.

He wanted his father to sing him a happy song, one that could bring a smile to his face despite his heartbreak. They could sing them together, and for a while Shane would get lost in the music and forget he ever had any trouble or pain.

He’d never felt so alone.

Shane blinked away tears from his eyes and looked up at the strings of lights hanging above him. They blurred with each drop that welled up, and he watched as they came in and out of focus until a restless sleep finally claimed him.

So much for the Christmas season.

Shane: I’m sorry if I put too much pressure on you. I’d still really like to talk when you’re ready. I hope you’re okay.

He’d sent the text to Zach when he woke up the next morning, once he’d gotten over the soreness from sleeping on his crappy sofa. He didn’t get a reply immediately.

Looking over his apartment was depressing as hell. The flower petals had started to wilt and dry overnight, and the food now looked dried up and gross. Even the candles looked droopy and sad from having melted. Only the Christmas lights still glowed cheerfully, but it felt like they were mocking his misery with their twinkles.

Once he’d gotten things cleaned up enough that he didn’t hate his life just from looking around, he got ready to head to school. Hopefully today wouldn’t be too much of a dumpster fire. Even if it was, at least it’d be a distraction from his romantic life falling to pieces.

Students were already filtering into the school from buses by the time he got to school, and he hurried to head inside to his classroom. At least if any protestors had been there, they’d been cleared out by now. There were still students here and there in the crowded hallways wearing Pride colors, continuing their protests, but for the most part it seemed things were going back to normal, bit by bit. Shane just had to hope that what was considered normal was now different, and that the students had learned to be a little more accepting of each other.

He was moving into his classroom when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He hurried to pull it out and thumb the screen on to read the text.

Zach: I’m sorry too. We’ll talk soon. I just need some time to think.

Shane frowned. It wasn’t the reply he’d been hoping for, but at least Zach wasn’t telling him that he never wanted to speak to him again.

There was nothing else for him to do but to hope Zach meant what he said, and that they would talk soon. For now, he tried to force a smile and turned to greet the class as the bell rang.

The day passed by slowly, but he got more work done than he had all week. He crammed every spare minute he wasn’t spending lecturing or talking to students with reading and grading papers and projects, trying to make sure his mind wouldn’t wander to Zach and the fact that he’d not gotten any more texts.

He was so used to getting them throughout the day that the absence made him feel surprisingly lonely. He always at least had one to read by lunch time, asking him how his day was going. It was hard not to keep glancing towards his phone every ten minutes to check. There was nothing new to read, and skimming their old conversations just made him feel worse.

Tina had done her best to cheer him up during lunch, but even her bubbly cheer and harmless teasing wasn’t enough to pull him out of his melancholy.

Now the last bell had rung, and he had no more classes or grading to distract himself with. All he could think about now was how much he really didn’t want to go home to his empty apartment.

Maybe he could go to Phoenix. Have some drinks. Play some pool. At least he wouldn’t be alone.

He was just packing up his things to head out when the now otherwise empty classroom door opened, and in stepped Jesse. Shane looked up and smiled softly, setting down the folder he was holding. Jesse flashed a smile in greeting, holding a couple of bags made of candy cane print paper, red tissue paper sticking out from the tops.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” he asked, though he gave a curious glance towards the bags.

“Yeah, everything’s cool. Well, mostly.” Jesse shuffled their feet shyly. “I just, um, have something for you.” They stepped over and set down one of the bags on the desk in front of him.

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” he said, though his smile came more naturally. “May I open it?”

Jesse nodded, so he pulled it closer and carefully lifted the tissue paper out of the way to set aside, then pulled the gift free from the bag.

It was a Christmas tree shape, made out of little planks of rustic wood. At the top was a cute star, and along the planks, clothes pins had been screwed onto the wood in neat little rows. It was simple but cute, and Shane guessed it had been handmade. With a glance at the back, he saw the name Caspian Grey had been etched into it. It must be the artist that made it. But most prominent of all was that each of the clothes pins held a little Christmas card, all of them different—some had snowmen on the front, others penguins and reindeer, others Santa, and so on. Curiously he touched one, pushing it open to see there was handwriting inside. After checking a few others, he realized they all had notes inside them, each written by a different person.

One for each of the students in the choir and LGBT Alliance.

He didn’t take the time to read each one, but he skimmed a few. One thanked him for being such a good teacher and wished him Merry Christmas. Another proclaimed he was their hero. Another talked about how they were grateful to have a teacher who cared so much about them.

“Jesse, this is… incredible,” he said softly, quickly lifting his hand to rub away tears from his eyes. “This means a lot to me.”

Jesse dipped their head shyly, but they still smiled. “We just wanted to do something to thank you for everything. Especially me. Even if things don’t go our way tomorrow, you’ve really inspired me to stand up for myself. And to be proud of who I am, no matter what anyone says.”

Shane struggled not to get teary eyed again. He smiled, setting down the card holder so he could move around his desk and pull the teen into a hug. “That means so much to me. It’s the best outcome of all. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” they mumbled, sniffing a bit as they squeezed around his chest for a moment before pulling back with a grin. “We made one for Zach too, to thank him. His is a wreath. I was hoping you could make sure he gets it? Since, you know, you two spend a lot of time together.”

His face fell before he could stop himself.

“Or… not?” Jesse asked, concerned.

He sighed, a hand lifting to rub over his short-cropped hair. “No, no… it’s all right. I’ll make sure he gets it, I promise.”

They eyed him for a long moment. “You sure?”

“Absolutely positive.” He lifted his hands. “It’s a beautiful gift. I know he’s going to love it.” He hesitated, then continued. “Do you think there’s enough room on the wreath for one more card? For me to add?”

Jesse smiled again and bobbed their head. “Yeah, of course. Go for it. Plenty of room.”

“Good.” He reached for the bag and set it down beside his own on his desk, then regarded the student for a moment. “Are you going to be all right tomorrow, if the Board doesn’t change its mind?” he asked gently.

The teen sobered a little, but looked resolute. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Me and Millie have decided even if they don’t let us go, we’re still gonna get dressed up. Some of the others are gonna come with us too. We’ll go crash Rocket and find something to do. Have our own party. Harrison is gonna help me get ready… So, either way, I’m still pretty excited.”

Shane nodded with relief. “Good. You kids still deserve to have some fun. But, still hoping for the best.”

“Yeah… just got to wait and see.” They shifted their weight between their feet nervously, then puffed out a breath. “Anyway, thanks for getting that to Zach. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I will. Have a good day, Jesse.”

The teen made their way out, and Shane sat down at his desk, pulling the wooden tree stand closer. One by one he read the notes on the cards, feeling his heart swelling up with emotion until he felt he might burst.

Even if Zach didn’t love him, at least he had an amazing bunch of students. It was a different sort of love, but no less fulfilling as what he felt for Zach. This gave him purpose and strength.

He looked towards the bag that contained Zach’s present, chewing at his lip. Even if Zach didn’t want to continue dating him, he wanted to share that strength with him. Perhaps a confession of love wasn’t what Zach needed right now. Maybe he needed to be reminded of how strong he was.

Shane snatched up his things and the gift bags, and marched out of the high school to find the perfect Christmas card.