The Pseudo Semicolon

CHAPTER 6 || PART: 2

A wave of hurt washed over him everytime he saw Charlie.. Don't trust the Elites.

"Charlie was closer to him. Those two seemed like they were joined at the hip."

'So why, Max? Why can't I trust your close friends?' Devland thought as he watched Charlie slide into the seat in front of him, 'What did they do?'

"Double chemistry periods always suck." Charlie exclaimed, pulling Devland out of his reverie, "It's a lab period too."

Devland usually said something here, a smartass joke or a nod. But now he didn't know what to do. 'C'mon Devland, this isn't the first time this has happened.' A voice snapped at himself and Devland immediately gathered himself, 'Then it's okay if I use him right? He was bound to betray me, so it's fine right?'

"You hate chemistry?" Devland questioned, leaning forward a bit to hear his reply. Charlie straightened up, giving Devland a quick glance before he spoke.

"Yeah! Roy loves it though." Charlie gushed, obviously excited that Devland was asking him more, "He even won an award for it."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. Actually I have a picture—" Charlie faltered, drumming his index finger on the table, " —Nevermind."

"Dude what? I would love to see the picture!" Devland insisted, though he felt that similar poison of hurt trickled into his mind. I can't trust him, I can't.

"Uh—Well—right, uhm." Charlie took out his phone warily, making sure the teacher wasn't looking. He scrolled through his phone for a while before letting out a sigh of relief. Charlie handed the phone to the other boy.

Devland could feel his heart slightly breaking.

He had shown him a picture of only the five of them, Max mostly out of the frame. Was it to spare the hurt? Devland looked at the back of Charlie's head. Did Charlie ever look at all these pictures of them, and cry? Did he cry so hard, he couldn't sleep?

Devland cleared his throat, handing the phone back to Charlie. "I don't mind Chemistry, actually." He offered, putting on his old mask despite the fact his social battery was positively exhausted, "It's interesting."

"What's the point of knowing how magnesium reacts with hydrochloric acid?" Charlie chuckled.

"It's the fact that we know how that reacts with the acid shows how far we've come." Devland tried ever so desperately to make up counter-points, doing his best to keep the conversation flowing. In order to get closer to Charlie—as he contained more information on Max— Devland needed to show that he was willing to open up to him. "I actually despise Maths."

"You're kidding?" Charlie exclaimed, "Max loved it."

"Well, I'm not Max." Devland's tone was nonchalant, but only he knew the significance of that statement. His whole life, he had tried to be Max so he was used to the comparisons, used to hearing Max's name in the same sentence as his.

They managed to hold a conversation for the whole period, and only got disrupted during the next. Though they finally reunited in the Chemistry lab.

Devland moved to take his position behind the table, eying each test tube. He noticed that the test tubes containing Ammonia and Acetic acid were almost drained so he decided to fill them up before the teacher got here.

Devland moved to get the chemicals, passing the equipment shelf. He froze when he realised something was wrong. He retracted his steps, taking a closer look through the glass.

The equipment was all there—the beakers, the stands, etc. but Devland couldn't ignore the fact that something was wrong. He looked around at the empty classroom (He liked to be early), and with no thoughts of hesitating, he opened the shelf and peered inside.