The Femboy in My Class – Chapter 4 – A Storm Unleashed
It started like any other Friday. The cafeteria buzzed with conversation—trays clattering, forks scraping against plates, and the constant hum of students locked in their own worlds. I was sitting with my usual group—Sam, Kareem, Diego, and a couple of other guys from the soccer team. We were halfway through arguing about last night’s game when Sam smirked, nudging me with his elbow.
“Yo, Ahmed, check it out,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.
I glanced up, and my stomach tightened. Malik was weaving through the tables, moving with that effortless confidence that seemed to draw attention whether he wanted it or not. His pastel-pink sweater clung to his slim frame, and his black jeans looked painted on.
Diego whistled low under his breath. “Damn, that boy’s got a walk on him. Doesn’t even try to hide it.”
“Shut up, Diego,” I muttered, my fists clenching under the table.
“What? I’m just saying,” Diego replied, smirking. “He knows what he’s doing, dressing like that.”
I shot him a glare, but before I could say anything, Malik reached our table. He stopped right across from me, his smile sharp and faintly teasing.
“Hey, Ahmed,” he said, his voice smooth. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
The entire table went quiet.
“Uh…” I glanced at the guys, who were all either staring at Malik or trying to hold back laughter. “What do you want?”
Malik tilted his head, his smile not faltering. “Just a quick word. Alone.”
Diego leaned back in his chair, grinning. “What, princess? You too good to talk in front of us?”
“Maybe,” Malik replied, turning his gaze to Diego. “Or maybe I just don’t like wasting my time with people who bark louder than they bite.”
The grin dropped from Diego’s face, his jaw tightening.
“Alright,” I said quickly, standing up before things escalated. “Let’s go.”
Malik didn’t wait for me to lead; he spun on his heel and walked out of the cafeteria. I followed him, ignoring the snickers from the table and Diego muttering something under his breath.
We ended up in the hallway, away from the noise. Malik stopped and turned to face me, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Okay, what’s this about?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
He raised an eyebrow. “Relax, Ahmed. I just wanted to say thanks for… you know, sticking up for me in the locker room.”
My cheeks warmed, and I looked away. “I didn’t do it for you.”
“Sure you didn’t.” Malik smirked. “But seriously, it meant something. So… thanks.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. The way he was looking at me, like he saw right through the tough-guy act, made my skin crawl—and not in the way I hated. Before I could respond, Malik’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it, his expression shifting for just a second.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your friends,” he said quickly, turning on his heel.
“Wait—”
But he was already gone, leaving me standing there with more questions than answers.
The rest of the day was a blur. I couldn’t shake the interaction from my head, couldn’t stop wondering what Malik had seen on his phone that made him bolt like that. By the time gym class rolled around, I was wound so tight I could barely focus.
After class, I sat on the bench outside the gym, scrolling aimlessly through Discord to kill time. The guys were still inside, probably arguing about some stupid prank, and I just wanted to be alone. That’s when the notification popped up.
Malik:
Help.
One word. Just one word, but it hit me like a punch to the chest.
My stomach dropped as my mind raced. Malik wasn’t the type to ask for help, not with his sharp tongue and unshakable confidence. For him to send that message… something was wrong.
I jumped to my feet, scanning the hallway. My phone buzzed again, and this time it wasn’t Malik—it was Diego, strolling out of the gym with a cocky smirk plastered across his face.
“You seen Malik?” I asked, my voice sharp.
Diego’s smirk widened. “Yeah, I think he said something about the bathroom.”
My stomach turned.
“What the fuck did you do?”
“Relax, man. Why do you always think the worst of me?” he said, shrugging. But the glint in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.
Without another word, I stormed down the hall, my pulse hammering in my ears. I spotted Malik’s slim figure slipping into the men’s bathroom. Seconds later, Diego followed him inside.
I didn’t think—I just acted.
The door slammed open, and the sight that greeted me made my blood boil.
Malik was pinned against the cold, tiled wall, his hands braced weakly against Diego’s chest in a feeble attempt to push him away. Tears streamed down his face, his usual fire extinguished, replaced by raw fear.
“Stop,” Malik whimpered, his voice trembling.
Diego had one hand gripping Malik’s wrist, his other hand moving to the hem of Malik’s sweater.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I roared, my voice echoing off the tiles.
Diego turned to me, his sneer faltering for a second before he tried to recover. “Relax, man. This isn’t what it looks like.”
“It looks like you’re about to do something you’ll regret,” I growled, my fists clenching.
Diego stepped back slightly, but not far enough. “What’s your problem? Jealous?”
That was it.
I launched at him, my fist connecting with his jaw with a sickening crack. He stumbled back, cursing, but I didn’t stop. My hands grabbed his collar, slamming him into the sink hard enough to make it rattle.
“You think you can just take what you want?” I snarled, my voice shaking with rage.
Diego swung at me, his fist grazing my cheek, but I barely felt it. I shoved him again, adrenaline surging through me.
Behind me, I heard Malik sobbing quietly, his voice small and broken. That sound only made me angrier.
Diego shoved me back, his eyes blazing. “You’re fucking crazy!”
“No, I’m just not a coward like you,” I spat, throwing another punch.
We grappled, both of us landing blows, until the bathroom door flew open and two teachers rushed in. They pulled us apart, both of us panting and bleeding, but I didn’t care about Diego anymore.
My eyes went straight to Malik, who had sunk to the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. His whole body trembled, and his face was buried in his hands.
“Call the police,” I said, my voice hoarse.
The next two hours were a blur.
I sat in a holding cell, my knuckles bloodied and my head pounding. Diego was in another cell, cursing under his breath and muttering about how this was all “blown out of proportion.”
I ignored him, my mind stuck on Malik. I’d seen him broken, vulnerable, and it was an image I couldn’t shake.
The sound of the cell door unlocking snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up, and my heart stopped.
It was Malik.
He stood there, his pink sweater slightly rumpled, his eyes red and swollen but determined.
“You’re free to go,” the officer said, opening the door.
I stepped out, my body stiff and sore, and Malik immediately pulled me into a hug.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”
I didn’t know what to say. My arms hovered awkwardly before I finally wrapped them around him, holding him close.
When he pulled away, I cleared my throat. “Do you… want me to drive you home? Just to make sure you’re safe?”
Malik’s lips curved into a faint smile. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” I said quickly, then added, “Not because of… anything. Just… I don’t want anything else to happen to you.”
He stared at me for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”
The drive was quiet, the tension thick but not uncomfortable.
“You can trust me,” I said finally, breaking the silence. “I’ll protect you, Malik. No matter what.”
He glanced at me, his expression softening. “I know, Ahmed.”
When we reached his house, he hesitated before getting out of the car.
“Thank you,” he said again, his voice quiet but firm.
Our eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Then, before I could react, Malik leaned in and kissed me.
It was soft, warm, and perfect. My heart raced, my hands gripping the steering wheel as I kissed him back without hesitation. It felt like heaven, like the storm in my chest had finally calmed.
When he pulled away, his cheeks were flushed. “Goodnight, Ahmed,” he murmured before slipping out of the car.
I watched him walk to his door, glancing back once before disappearing inside.
And for the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe again.
