You

Chapter 1 : First Sight

The first time Devin met Luke, it was a hot, sticky summer day. The kind of day where the air hung around you like a damp towel, refusing to let you breathe freely. Devin was in the garage, elbow deep in engine grease, trying to fix his bike before George got home. His older brother had always been the one with the knack for mechanics, but George was out with friends, and Devin didn't want to bother him.

The door creaked open, and a shadow fell across the concrete floor. Devin looked up, squinting through the dust motes dancing in the single beam of sunlight that pierced the gloom. There, framed by the rectangle of harsh light, was George, his arm slung casually over the shoulders of a boy with shaggy blond hair and a crooked smile.

"Devin, this is my new buddy, Luke," George announced, as if introducing a prize-winning show dog.

Devin wiped his hands on an even dirtier rag and stepped forward, extending a hand. "Hey, I'm Devin."

Luke's grip was firm, his skin warm and dry despite the oppressive heat. "Hi, man," he said, his voice as friendly as a golden retriever's wagging tail.

In the months that followed, Luke became a regular fixture at the house. He and George would come bursting through the door, laughter echoing down the hallways, their stories of adventure and mischief spilling out behind them. Devin often found himself drawn to the kitchen, not just for the cold drinks, but to listen to the way Luke talked about the world, as if every moment was a new discovery waiting to be uncovered.

They spent their days exploring the woods behind their neighborhood, building ramshackle forts and racing their bikes until the sun dipped below the treeline. Devin couldn't help but notice the way Luke's eyes lit up when he talked about his dreams of becoming a professional mountain biker, or how his laugh made him feel like he was in on a secret only the two of them shared.

But it was the quiet moments, the ones when George was off elsewhere, that Devin began to feel something he couldn't quite name. It was a flutter in his chest, a warmth that spread through his body whenever Luke was near. He had never felt this way about a boy before, and he wasn't sure what it meant.

One evening, as they sat on the porch swing, watching the fireflies flicker like tiny stars, Luke turned to him, his expression serious. "You know, George thinks I'm straight," he said, his voice low.

Devin's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah?" he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "What makes you say that?"

"Because I told him," Luke said, looking down at his sneakers. "But the thing is, I'm not."

Devin's mind raced. He didn't know what to say, or even if he should say anything at all. But the words tumbled out before he could stop them. "Me neither," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Luke's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "You're not?"

The silence stretched out between them, thick and heavy as the night air. Devin felt the weight of his secret, the one he hadn't even admitted to himself until that moment. But here it was, out in the open, staring him in the face.

And in that instant, as the fireflies danced around them, Devin realized that maybe, just maybe, he had found something more than friendship in George's best friend.