Saturday evening came too fast.

Kenny stood in front of his bedroom mirror, collar stiff, hands clammy. He tugged at the button-up his dad made him wear—sky blue, no wrinkles, sleeves ironed within an inch of their life.

“You look sharp,” his dad said as he passed by the doorway, clapping a heavy hand on his shoulder. “She’s gonna love it.”

Kenny forced a smile.

“Don’t slouch,” his dad barked over his shoulder. “And be polite. First impressions matter. You’re a Payne, not some punk off the street.”

Kenny’s stomach turned. His little brother, Reece, peeked in from the hallway, making a face behind their dad’s back. Kenny tried to smile for him, but it barely reached his eyes.

Carissa was due in fifteen minutes.

He hadn’t texted Anthony all morning.

---

The doorbell rang at exactly 6:00 PM.

Carissa stood on the porch in a white sundress and red lipstick, holding a small box of macarons and smiling like she belonged in a magazine ad for perfect girlfriends. Kenny’s dad beamed.

“Well, would you look at that,” he said. “A lady with class.”

Carissa laughed politely and handed him the box. “Thank you for having me, sir.”

Sir. Kenny’s stomach did another turn.

Dinner was a show.

His dad laid it on thick—steak, mashed potatoes, green beans no one touched. Carissa complimented everything. Jamal played with his food. Kenny sat in a fog.

“So,” his dad said midway through the meal, leaning back with his beer, “Kenny tells me you’re on the debate team.”

Carissa blinked, then smiled. “Not anymore. I’m focusing on dance this year.”

“Oh?” His dad raised an eyebrow. “You think that’ll get you into college?”

She laughed again, but it was tight this time. “With the right scholarships.”

Kenny cut in quickly. “She’s one of the best in her class. Got a competition next month.”

His dad grunted approvingly and turned to Kenny. “See? A girl with goals. Keep your head on straight, son.”

Kenny nearly choked.

Carissa’s hand slid under the table and found his.

He didn’t flinch.

But his heart was screaming.

---

Anthony’s text came at 6:43 PM.

Ant: Hope the “family thing” isn’t awful. Miss you.

Kenny didn’t answer right away.

He couldn’t.

His phone buzzed again a few minutes later.

Ant: Sorry. Just had a weird convo w/ Devon again. She said she’s not trying to start stuff, but… idk. I hate this feeling.

Kenny stared at the screen.

Then typed.

Then deleted.

Then typed again.

Kenny: I miss you too. I promise everything’s fine.

Lie.

Lie.

Lie.

---

After dessert, his dad leaned forward, elbows on the table. “So, Carissa. What made you say yes to my son?”

Kenny froze mid-sip.

Carissa laughed softly and said, “He’s sweet. Funny. Protective. And he doesn’t pretend to be someone he’s not.”

Kenny choked on his drink.

His dad thumped him on the back, laughing. “That’s my boy.”

Kenny excused himself to the bathroom. Locked the door. Sat on the edge of the tub and put his head in his hands.

His phone buzzed again.

Ant: I’m sorry I asked earlier. I trust you. Really.

Kenny could barely breathe.

---

Meanwhile, Devon had enough.

She watched Anthony all day—watched him second-guess every word, twist every sentence into knots. It was killing her to see him like that, questioning himself for daring to be happy.

She wasn’t going to sit back and watch Kenny break his heart.

So she opened her camera roll.

And stared at the photo she’d taken yesterday—just a blurry hallway shot, nothing special, but clear enough. Kenny and Carissa, walking hand in hand, just after lunch.

She didn’t want to be this person.

But Anthony deserved to know.

Her finger hovered over the “Send” button.

---

Dinner ended around 8:00.

Kenny walked Carissa to the door. She kissed him, soft and warm, and he hated how practiced it felt. How easy it was to pretend.

“Your dad’s intense,” she said.

“Yeah,” Kenny mumbled.

“But he likes me.”

“Of course he does.”

Carissa looked at him, really looked. “Are you okay?”

Kenny blinked. “Why?”

“You’ve been… distant.”

His throat tightened. “Just tired.”

She nodded. “I’ll see you Monday?”

He hesitated.

Then nodded. “Yeah. Monday.”

She left.

He shut the door, forehead against the wood.

Then his phone buzzed again.

---

Ant: Devon sent me a photo.

Kenny’s lungs locked.

Another buzz.

Ant: Tell me it’s not what it looks like.

Ant: Please.

Kenny’s vision blurred.

He typed.

Deleted.

Typed again.

Kenny: I can explain.

There was a long pause.

Ant: So it’s true.

---

Downstairs, his dad called up the stairs. “Kenny! Come help me with the dishes!”

Kenny didn’t answer.

Another message popped up.

Ant: You lied to me.

Ant: I can’t do this.

---

Kenny dropped the phone.

Just let it fall.

He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror—half-boy, half-shadow, someone he didn’t recognize anymore.

From downstairs, he heard Reece ask, “Dad, why is Kenny so quiet?”

And his dad’s voice came loud and clear:

“He’s probably still thinking about that pretty girl. Good. At least he’s not one of those boys.”

The air left Kenny’s lungs.

He reached for his phone with shaking hands, unsure who he was calling, what he was doing.

But before he could decide—

His phone lit up with a call from Anthony.

He froze.

Finger hovered.

Ringing.

Ringing.

Ringing.

He couldn’t do it.

He let it ring out.

It went to voicemail.

And when it did, the message came through:

Ant: Don’t bother explaining. I deserved better.

Kenny’s knees buckled.

He slid down to the floor, back against the door, fists clenched against his ribs like he could physically hold himself together.

He couldn’t.

And outside the bathroom—

Someone knocked.

It was Reece.

“Kenny? Are you okay?”

But Kenny didn’t answer.

He couldn't.

——————————————————
Author's Note!

Sorry for the wait, enjoy this chapter. I have the next 2 chapters written so I'll be posting them very soon. Sorry about this chapter, it will get better (after quite a lot of angst 😭)