Devyn’s Struggle II
Published: 21 Sep 2026
Monday felt unreal to Devyn. Everywhere he walked, someone stopped him. There were pats on the back, a grin, a “Dude, you killed it in the play!” He kept smiling, nodding, thanking them, but inside he was still trying to catch up with the sudden shift in how people saw him. It was dizzying. Just a few months ago, he’d been the kid everyone whispered about, the one people avoided because being near him might somehow make them “gay by association.” Now people were waving him over to walk with them between classes.
And honestly? It was nice. Overwhelming, but nice.
It also had a very practical benefit: with so many kids orbiting him, Principal Tanner rarely got within ten feet. On the rare occasions Devyn caught Tanner watching him from down the hall, the man’s stare felt like a pair of laser beams carving holes through his skull. Devyn still wasn’t sure whether Joe’s talk with the principal had helped or whether Tanner was just biding his time. Either way, Devyn didn’t trust the quiet. But for the first time in months, he felt like he could breathe.
The play was over. The school events were behind him. His schedule was finally opening up, or so he thought. The tutoring sessions he’d started had exploded in popularity. Kids he did not know well were asking him for help. Even Randy had started showing up, which was… distracting. Randy was the kind of hot that made it hard to remember what numbers were, and Devyn wasn’t the only one affected. Julie practically forgot how to blink whenever Randy sat near her.
So when they finally had a moment alone, Devyn nudged her with his elbow.
“You have a crush on him.”
Julie’s eyes widened. “No.”
Devyn raised an eyebrow.
She groaned. “Okay, fine. Yes. Maybe. He’s just… well…”
“HOT,” Devyn supplied, grinning.
Julie let out a dreamy sigh. “He is.”
“And,” Devyn added, leaning in conspiratorially, “I’ve caught him looking at you too.”
Her head snapped up. “You have?”
“Oh yeah. He’s interested.”
“You think so?” She sounded like she wanted to believe it, but didn’t dare.
Devyn laughed. “Julie, you’re awesome. If I were into girls, I’d be kicking his ass to keep him away from you.”
She giggled, cheeks pink. “You’re sweet.”
But Devyn’s smile faded as soon as she looked away. Because while everyone else seemed to be getting easier to talk to, Charlie wasn’t.
There was something between them now. It was something unspoken, something heavy. Charlie hadn’t said anything outright, but their usual ease had been replaced by awkward pauses and half-finished sentences. Devyn couldn’t tell if Charlie was pulling away… or if Devyn himself was the one creating the distance because of the kiss with Brent.
He hated that he couldn’t talk to Charlie about it. He hated even more that they were never alone long enough to try. Being surrounded by people kept Tanner away, sure, but it also kept Charlie away.
So Devyn tried a different angle. “Um, Sam,” he asked later that day as they changed for gym, “is something going on with Charlie?”
Sam tugged his shirt over his head. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure?” Devyn frowned. “That usually means something is going on.”
Sam hesitated, then sighed. “He sent me this weird message. Said we needed to talk. Didn’t say about what.”
Devyn blinked. “That’s… odd.”
“Right?” Sam stepped out of his jeans and into his gym shorts. “I tried to ask him earlier, but he said we couldn’t talk about it at school.”
“That’s even more cryptic,” Devyn muttered. His stomach tightened. What was Charlie hiding?
Sam shrugged. “You know he took Heather to that play. They’ve been hanging out a lot lately. I wonder if he and her… You know.”
Devyn stared. “You think they… um…”
“Charlie just feeling her up would be a big step,” Sam said bluntly. “If they did more than that? Huge.”
“Maybe,” Devyn said, though the idea twisted something sharp inside him. Would Charlie really go that far just to keep up the straight-boy act? And Heather was sweet and quiet. Would she even want that? She knew Charlie was gay. She didn’t seem like the type to jump into anything physical.
“Well, that’s my guess,” Sam continued. “He got past first base and wants to brag.”
“I doubt that,” Devyn said quickly.
“Okay, maybe not brag,” Sam conceded. “But he might need advice. I think he likes her a lot.”
Devyn almost snorted. Sam was a great friend, but when it came to girls, the guy was hopeless. “So when do you think you’ll talk to him?”
“No clue,” Sam said. “Maybe after school sometime this week. Honestly, he should be asking you. You’re the one with all the experience. Girls drool over you.”
“You’re crazy,” Devyn said, rolling his eyes. The idea of Charlie asking him for advice about Heather made his stomach twist again — jealousy, guilt, and confusion all tangled together.
“It’s true,” Sam insisted. “Lori told me some of the stuff she’s heard. If you were straight and she had a shot, she’d dump me in a heartbeat.” He snapped his fingers.
“I don’t do anything,” Devyn muttered, grabbing his gym shoes.
Sam followed him toward the door. “If you could teach us that trick, maybe Charlie and I would have better luck with the chicks.”
Devyn pushed the door open. “Stop thinking of them as a conquest, and you might actually have a shot.”
Charlie had been trying all week to catch Devyn alone, but it was impossible. If it wasn’t Sam glued to Devyn’s side, it was Julie, or Stacy, or one of the dozen other kids who now seemed to orbit him like he was some kind of rising star. Every time Charlie looked up, Devyn was laughing with someone, answering a question, getting pulled into a conversation. It was like watching a celebrity surrounded by fans. It made Charlie feel like he was standing outside a window, looking in.
“You doing alright?” Heather’s voice came softly from behind him, her hand settling gently on his shoulder.
Charlie flinched. He’d been staring at Devyn again. He was so focused, he hadn’t even noticed her approach. “I’m fine,” he said quickly, too quickly.
Heather followed his gaze. Devyn was across the hall, animated, smiling, Randy leaning in close to say something that made him laugh. Charlie’s stomach twisted.
“You two haven’t talked, have you?” she asked.
Charlie shook his head. “Only a few messages. There hasn’t been a chance this week.” He swallowed hard. The truth was uglier than that. He wanted to talk to Devyn…desperately…but he was terrified of what Devyn might say if he asked about Brent. He was terrified of sounding jealous. Terrified of sounding stupid. Terrified of confirming the fear that had been gnawing at him since the night of the play.
“You should tell him how you’re feeling,” Heather said gently.
“I’ll sound stupid.”
“I don’t think so.” She stepped in front of him, making him meet her eyes. “And even if you do…is sounding stupid worse than feeling like this?”
Charlie let out a breath that was half laugh, half groan. “No. I guess it wouldn’t.”
Before Heather could say more, a shadow fell over them.
Dale stepped right into Charlie’s path, wearing that smug, lazy grin Charlie had once mistaken for confidence. “It’s good seeing you with a chick,” Dale said. “Maybe your brother was right about you.”
Charlie’s jaw tightened. “Get lost.”
Dale ignored him. “He kept telling us you weren’t a fag, but when all you hang around with are fags… well, then you must be one.”
“Get lost,” Charlie repeated, louder this time, heat rising in his face.
Dale’s gaze slid to Heather, slow and predatory. “You’re a hot one.”
Heather stiffened. “Go away.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the discomfort in it was unmistakable.
Dale chuckled. “The quiet ones are always hot in bed. I bet she’s really hot.”
Something snapped in Charlie. It was a sharp, white-hot crack of disgust and anger. “Fuck you!”
He grabbed Heather’s arm and pulled her away, wanting to get her out of Dale’s reach, out of his voice, out of his eyes.
“She looks good from the back too,” Dale called after them. “I can see why you want to keep that to yourself.”
Charlie stopped dead. He let go of Heather, spun around, and glared at Dale. “You’re a fucking pig!”
For a split second, Charlie wasn’t looking at Dale at all — he was looking at Howard. The same tone, the same smirk, the same gross way of talking about girls like they were objects. How had he ever thought these guys were cool?
“That is quite enough,” came a sharp voice.
Mrs. Jones stood a few feet away, arms crossed, expression carved from ice. She had clearly heard Charlie’s outburst.
Dale immediately put on his innocent act. “I’m not sure why he’s so upset,” he said with a smirk.
“Is there a problem?” Mrs. Jones asked, eyes flicking between them.
“No problem,” Dale said smoothly. “I just said what a cute couple they were, and he got all bent out of shape.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Charlie said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “He was… he was being a… a jerk.” There were a dozen other words he wanted to use, but not with Mrs. Jones watching him.
Her gaze shifted to Dale, cold and sharp. “Maybe you should consider keeping your comments to yourself in the future.” She paused, letting the weight of her stare sink in. “Now move along to class.”
“Sure,” Dale said. As he passed Charlie, he added under his breath, “Keep up the good work.”
Mrs. Jones waited until Dale disappeared around the corner before turning back to Charlie. “Your language was uncalled for.”
“He was being very ugly,” Heather said quietly. “It was gross.”
“I’m sure he was,” Mrs. Jones replied. “Be grateful I’m the one who overheard you. Other… individuals might not be as lenient.”
Charlie knew exactly who she meant. Principal Tanner. The man would love an excuse to punish him. especially for being Devyn’s friend. “I’ll try to be more careful,” Charlie said.
“See that you do.” The corners of her mouth twitched — not quite a smile, but close enough to let Charlie know she understood more than she let on.
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