Andy's POV:
I walked into school with my head down, my heart rattling like it was trying to escape my chest. My eyes darted around, scanning faces, corners—anywhere she might be. Amaya. I couldn't face her. Not yet. Not after what happened.
"Andy!?" someone called from across the hallway.
I froze.
But it wasn't her—it was James. Relief washed over me like cold rain. I walked back toward him, avoiding the stares I felt crawling on my skin. Some girls passing by whispered, not even hiding the fact they were talking about me. I didn't even bother to listen.
"Hey, what's up, man?" James reached out to dab me up.
"You're looking hot today," I joked, pulling him into a playful side hug. He laughed, but his face turned serious quickly—too serious.
"What am I hearing, man?" he asked, locking eyes with me.
I knew instantly. Whatever it was, it was bad.
"What...what are you hearing?" I adjusted my backpack, suddenly sweating like I'd run a mile.
He sighed. "Everyone's saying you're a virgin. Amaya told people."
"What?!" I blurted, then lowered my voice fast. "Where did you hear that?"
"I literally just said. Amaya. Said. So." He looked disappointed, like he expected better. "And now everyone's talking."
"She... she said that?" My stomach twisted.
"Bro," he said, putting his arm around me as we walked into the school hallway, "she's dating that dude again. Michael. That guy's a prick."
"What was I supposed to do?" I muttered, hitting my forehead with my hand, ashamed.
James sighed. "Don't worry, man. I got you."
We kept walking. Then I saw him—Michael—lurking down the hall like some high school villain. My chest tightened.
I looked away, hoping he wouldn't notice. Of course, he did.
"Virgin boy?!" he laughed, loud enough for the hallway to hear.
I clenched my jaw but kept walking. I wasn't giving him the satisfaction.
"Hey, virgin boy!" he shouted again, and this time, we both stopped and turned.
Michael swaggered over, and I couldn't help but notice his muscles—bigger than James's. But James stood firm beside me like a damn wall. I felt a little braver.
"What do you want?" I asked, voice flat.
"You tried to fuck my girlfriend, huh?" His face was twisted with fake rage.
"Your girlfriend?" My heart shattered. So she lied. All those things she said, the letter… it was just a game?
"She said she liked me," I said quietly.
Then it happened. A hard punch—right to my face. Blood filled my mouth, warm and metallic.
"Yo!" James jumped in, punching Michael straight in the jaw, knocking him back.
"You hit him? For what? If she's really your girl, why's she out here throwing herself at someone else?" James snapped, fists up.
"Fuck you!" Michael barked, holding his bruised cheek.
James turned to me. "Let's go, Andy. And yeah—he's a virgin. So what? At least he doesn't sleep with trash."
He grabbed my backpack, and we walked off. I didn't dare look back.
Michael shouted after us, "Run along, Andy! You're a fucking girl! Gotta have your boyfriend fight for you, huh?"
Fucking girl.
The words hit harder than his fist.
---
James' POV:
I stopped by Andy's house later that day, exhausted after a jog. Sweat clung to me like second skin. I needed a drink—something cold. I knew my way around, so I headed to the fridge and grabbed a chilled bottle.
"Andy?" I called out.
No response.
I figured he was asleep, so I headed upstairs. His door was slightly open. I pushed it gently and stepped in.
And there he was—naked, back turned, trying to wipe his eyes like he had soap in them.
But what caught my eyes wasn't that.
It was... the lack of something. I blinked, my brain catching up to what I was seeing.
Andy had no penis.
"Yo, man!" I gasped, and he whipped around, covering himself fast.
"James?" he whispered, panicked.
I closed the door behind me. "You alone?"
"Yeah," he mumbled, eyes wild.
He wrapped himself in a robe and sat on the bed, face full of shame.
"Andy..." I sat beside him, my mind racing. "Man... where's your dick?"
"Shh!" He held up a finger. "Please... don't tell anyone. Not even my mom. Please."
I took a breath. "Alright... alright. But... can you talk to me? Did you... like... get surgery?"
"No," he said quickly. "I didn't cut it off."
"Then what—?"
"I was never born with one."
"What?" I almost didn't believe it.
"I'm transgender," he said softly. "I looked it up... I don't know. I was born this way. A woman's body... but everyone thinks I'm a guy. My mom says we'll 'fix' it someday."
I looked at him—really looked. His eyes were watery, but defiant. It hit me how much pain he carried every day, hiding it behind swag, jokes, and fake confidence.
He lay back on the bed, wiping a tear.
"Does Amaya know?" I asked gently.
He laughed bitterly. "If she did, it would've been all over the school. No one would let me breathe."
"I get it, man," I said. "Fuck love. Just do you. No one deserves your truth until they earn it."
Andy sat up and looked me in the eyes. "You can't tell anyone. Not even Mom. Promise me."
"I promise," I said. And I meant it.
Just then, the door swung open. It was Andy's mom.
"Hey, James," she said, smiling, wearing a silver dress that shimmered like she stepped out of a magazine.
"Good morning, ma'am." I stood up out of respect.
She smiled warmly. "Morning, dear. How was your night, son?" she asked Andy.
"Fine, Mom."
"Good. I'll be out late. Don't wait up," she said, turning to leave.
"Mom?" Andy called.
"Yes, dear?"
"I want to celebrate my birthday."
She smiled without turning around. "Alright. Let me know when. I'll send money."
She left like it was just another day.
Andy slumped back on the bed.
"Man," I muttered, "your mom is damn sexy."
Andy shot me a death glare. "Say that again and only one of us leaves this room alive."
"Well..." I smirked. "Pretty sure it's gonna be the one with the balls."
He grabbed a pillow and threw it at me. "Fuck you, man."
I laughed hard, even as he pouted. Somehow, in that weird, painful moment—we were okay. And he wasn't alone