It rained for days after the festival. The kind of steady, endless rain that turns everything grey and quiet. School felt smaller, the hallways echoing with shoes squeaking against wet floors.

Rylan and I barely spoke. When we passed each other in class, he’d smile like nothing had changed, but something had. Something invisible, like a wall made of all the words we never said.

I kept thinking about that night on the porch, the way he looked at me like he wanted to say everything, then said nothing at all.

Maybe that’s why I decided to tell him first.

It happened on a Friday. The sky was heavy with clouds, the air thick and cold. Soccer practice had been canceled because the field was flooded. I found him in the art room, leaning by the window, watching the rain.

He turned when I walked in. “Skipping class, Blake?”

“Maybe,” I said. My voice sounded smaller than I meant it to.

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“I haven’t.” I took a deep breath. “Rylan, I need to tell you something.”

That got his attention. He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just…” My throat felt dry. The words I’d rehearsed a hundred times suddenly felt like too much to hold. “I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

“Pretending what?”

“That you’re just my friend.”

Silence. The rain hit the windows like small stones.

I looked down, forcing the words out. “I like you. Not like I like everyone else. It’s different. It’s…” I exhaled shakily. “It’s more.”

He didn’t say anything. Not for a long time.

When I finally looked up, he was staring at me like I’d spoken in a language he didn’t understand.

“Kai…” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

He shook his head, a nervous laugh escaping. “You’re just… confused. You care about people too much, that’s all.”

I felt something cold settle in my chest. “You think I’m lying?”

“No, I just…” He stepped closer, voice low. “I don’t want you to regret saying it.”

“I won’t.”

“You might,” he said softly. “People won’t understand. My parents…” He stopped himself, jaw tightening. “You know how they are.”

“I don’t care what they think,” I whispered.

“I do.”

That hurt more than I expected.

He must’ve seen it, because his expression softened. “Kai, you’re… you’re important to me, okay? I just need time.”

I nodded, though my throat burned. “It’s fine. Forget I said anything.”

“I can’t,” he said quietly. “That’s the problem.”

The next few days were a blur. He didn’t come behind the gym. Didn’t text. Didn’t meet my eyes in class. It was like my confession had rewritten the rules of gravity.

I told myself I’d ruined everything.

One afternoon, I went to his house. I just needed to talk, to make it normal again. His parents answered the door. His mother’s smile was sharp, polite.

“Oh, you’re Kai,” she said. “Rylan isn’t here. He’s out with Kim.”

Kim. His ex-girlfriend.

“She’s such a lovely girl,” his mother added. “We’re so glad they’re reconnecting. Some things just make more sense, don’t they?”

Something in her tone made my stomach twist. “Yeah,” I managed. “They do.”

When I left, the sky had turned orange. I walked until the sun disappeared, until the ache in my chest felt dull enough to carry.

That night, my parents called me into the living room. My sketchbook was on the table open to a drawing of Rylan I’d forgotten to hide.

My mother’s voice trembled. “Kai, what is this?”

“It’s a drawing.”

“Don’t lie to us.” My father’s face was pale, his hands clenched. “That boy’s parents called. They said you’ve been… influencing him.”

“I haven’t.”

“They’re good people, Kai,” my mother said through tears. “They just want what’s right for their son. And so do we.”

“What’s right?” I asked, voice shaking. “Pretending?”

My father’s eyes hardened. “You will stay away from him. Do you understand?”

“And if I don’t?”

He looked away. “Then we’ve failed as parents.”

My mother whispered, “We can’t face the church, Kai. Please. Don’t make us choose between you and God.”

Something in me broke quietly. I promised them I’d stop seeing him. Not because I agreed, but because I couldn’t bear to see my mother cry like that.

The next morning, I went to the soccer field. Rylan was there, alone, kicking a ball through puddles. He looked up when he saw me, eyes unreadable.

“We need to talk,” I said.

He nodded, walking closer. “I heard about your parents.”

“Then you know why I’m here.”

He frowned. “Kai…”

“I promised them I’d stay away,” I said before he could finish.

He froze. “What?”

“It’s better this way.”

He laughed bitterly. “Better for who?”

“For everyone.”

His eyes darkened. “So that’s it? You tell me you like me and then just disappear?”

“I told you because it was true. But truth doesn’t change anything.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe,” I whispered. “But it’s the only lie that’ll keep them from breaking.”

He stared at me, rain dripping from his hair, his expression twisting between anger and something that looked like pain.

“Fine,” he said finally. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why are you saying it?”

“Because I have to.”

He turned away, voice hard. “You always hide behind what you have to do.’”

I wanted to tell him everything to scream that I’d do anything just to stay, but my throat wouldn’t let me.

When he walked away, I didn’t stop him.

That was the last time I saw Rylan Aiden before everything fell apart.

For days, my world shrank into silence. No texts. No laughter behind the gym. Just empty pages and a hollow ache that even drawing couldn’t fix.

I’d told the truth, and it still broke us.
 I’d told a lie, and it broke me more.