By Monday morning, the magic of prom had already started to fade.
The school was alive with whispers and videos—snippets of spinning dresses, half-drunk confessions, and unmasking's caught on camera. Someone had posted a blurry shot of Devon and Kylie on the dance floor, their foreheads nearly touching, and her hand tucked in his. It was captioned simply:
"So much for 'keeping distance'"
Kylie saw it on her way to first period.
Devon saw it in the locker room.
Neither of them commented. But the damage had begun.
At lunch, Chloe slid into the seat across from Kylie, tray clattering.
"So," she said, dragging out the word like she already knew the ending. "You and Devon. Again?"
Kylie kept her eyes on her salad. "It's not like that."
"Girl, we saw you. The slow dance. The hand-holding. Don't insult me."
Kylie sighed. "It was one night. We talked. That's it."
"Is it?" Chloe arched a perfectly drawn brow. "Because I'm just trying to keep you from doing the thing again."
"What thing?"
"You get close, you catch feelings, and then boom—everything implodes. Last time it blew back on all of us. Raya, the media team, your GPA, your sleep schedule…"
Kylie's fork froze mid-air. "Why does everyone act like we ruined the school?"
Chloe shrugged. "You didn't. But people talk. And people remember. Just don't forget how bad it got."
That stung more than Kylie wanted to admit. Because Chloe wasn't wrong. After the fallout with Raya and the court scandal, she'd felt like she was balancing on a wire and getting close to Devon again had pulled at her stability like gravity.
Still, her voice was steady when she said, "It's different now."
"Sure," Chloe replied, unconvinced.
Devon wasn't faring much better.
In the gym, his teammates were ruthless.
"Yo, lover boy back at it again," Jay called out as Devon walked past the bleachers.
"Y'all saw that prom clip?" another one added. "My dude went full Romeo. You trying to get suspended again or what?"
Devon forced a laugh and grabbed a ball off the rack, hoping it would shut them up. "Y'all are wild."
But inside, it twisted. He wasn't ashamed of Kylie not even a little. But the way they said her name, like it was a punchline, made him want to throw something.
Later, during shooting drills, Elijah pulled him aside. "Real talk? Be careful."
Devon didn't look at him. "With what?"
"You and Kylie. I know y'all had a moment or whatever. But moments don't mean people forget the mess. And if Coach catches wind of anything that looks like distraction? He'll bench you."
Devon snorted. "Because dancing with a girl is now a team violation?"
"Because last time, you were late to drills, skipped film day, and got into a screaming match with Raya in uniform," Elijah said flatly. "I'm not hating. Just don't forget who you are when she's around."
That last line hit hard.
By Wednesday, things between Devon and Kylie had chilled—but not from their own doing.
They hadn't argued. Hadn't said anything wrong.
But the space between their texts grew longer. The smiles in passing were more polite than personal. In the back of her psych lecture, Kylie stared at the blinking cursor in her notes app and wondered if they'd already started backsliding without realizing it.
That night, she called Petrina.
"I don't get it," she confessed. "We were finally okay. And now it feels like everyone's pulling us apart again."
Petrina was quiet for a second. "Do you want to be with him?"
"Yes."
"Then stop letting everyone else write your story."
"I'm not! I just....." Kylie paused. "It's like… they keep reminding me how bad it got. And I can't tell if we're better now or if I just want to believe we are."
"That's fair," Petrina said. "But if you don't find a way to be strong together, they'll keep getting in your head."
Meanwhile, Devon stood outside his apartment, phone in hand, staring at Kylie's name on the screen.
Typing…
Deleting.
Typing again.
Then a knock pulled him out of it. His roommate, Malik, stuck his head out. "You coming to the open gym tonight?"
"Nah."
Malik raised an eyebrow. "You skipping? You never skip."
Devon rubbed the back of his neck. "Just… not in the mood."
Malik walked in and sat across from him. "It's about her, huh?"
Devon didn't answer.
"You like her?"
Devon nodded once.
"Then fight for her, man. Screw the rumors. If it matters, you make it work."
Devon finally looked up. "What if we're just bad for each other?"
Malik shrugged. "Then crash and burn knowing you tried. But if you ghost her again because of what other people think? You'll regret that way more."
Thursday, after sixth period, Kylie stood by the vending machines, scrolling through messages she wasn't brave enough to send.
Then Devon appeared.
No mask. No pretending. Just him, looking just as unsure, just as exhausted by pretending not to care.
He stopped a foot away. "You got a second?"
She nodded.
They stepped outside to the back courtyard, the spring wind warm against their skin.
For a minute, neither spoke.
Then Kylie broke the silence. "It's happening again."
Devon nodded. "I know."
"Everyone's pulling at the seams. Telling us what we should feel."
"I've been trying to shut it out," he admitted. "But it's hard. I hear it in the locker room. I feel it when Coach looks at me sideways. Even my own team thinks I'm weaker with you around."
Kylie flinched. "You think that too?"
"No." He shook his head. "I think I'm stronger when we're honest with each other. When we're not hiding."
Kylie looked up at him. "Then why do we keep hiding?"
Devon stepped closer. "Because we're scared. Of going all in. Of losing again. Of being wrong."
She didn't answer right away. Then, quietly: "I don't want to lose you again, Dev."
"Then don't."
He reached out, and this time, she didn't hesitate.
Their hands met, fingers locking with quiet certainty. Not performative. Not for anyone else. Just them.
That night, they walked together across campus, not speaking much but not needing to. Heads turned. People whispered.
Let them.
Because this time, they weren't pretending not to care.
This time, they were holding on, even as the world tried to pull them apart.