Chapter Text
I stumbled out the house, with only just enough time to get to school. I was still hopping around, trying to get my left shoe on. It was still snowing outside, and I wondered if they would cancel school again.
I trudged through the snow, each footstep crunching beneath me.
Eventually I saw Phil’s silhouette appear from the fog, and jogged to catch up with him.
I stopped next to him “Hey”
“Hey Dan” Phil smiled a warm smile at me, even in all the snow I could feel his smile radiating off of his face and melting the coldness
We walked next to each other, mostly remaining silent, until we came to the long road that everyone walked up to get to the school gates. People were walking on both sides of the road, some alone, some in groups, and some in pairs.
People started to stare at us, some whispering, undoubtedly, about me.
“Quick, take my hand” Phil whispered, and grabbed my hand in his. His was warm, despite the snow and the coldness, not a surprise though, Phil was a warm person in every way. My hand was cold and clammy, although it didn’t seem to bother him. I felt self-conscious about my hand for the rest of the walk to school.
We walked up the road, hand in hand, as people stared at us. Phil stared straight ahead, unfazed by it all, but me? I was looking around, watching other people, darting my head. I looked completely insane
“Dan” Phil hissed through gritted teeth “Act natural” I did as I was told, looking straight ahead, clenching my jaw tight and bared not looking around, being unaware of people’s reactions, though that was all I cared about. Phil didn’t seem to even mind. How did he do that,was he mental?
“Phil, they’re staring at us” I complained to Phil under my breath, so as not to be overheard by people shoving past us.
“Just ignore them then” Phil smiled at me, shaking his head, his blue eyes gleaming, reflecting the whiteness from around us
I glanced down at my watch; three minutes until school started.
A whole three minutes. I started doing the maths in my head. Three minutes would be sixty times three, which would be 180 seconds, but as I’m getting redder cheeks by every second that passes, I’d be suffocating by the time we get through to our lockers.
I kept my head down, shielding my red splotchy face from the crowd of judging stares that pierce my skin with pressuring eyes.
We finally make it through the crowd of people pushing and shoving past us, and Phil comes with me to my locker, and although I wish he wouldn’t, I don’t protest. Instead, I keep walking, mimicking Phil’s movement, how he brushes away the snotty remarks from everyone as we walk, how he walks with his head slightly tilted up.
I push the combination into my locker and shove books from my bag into the small space. A few books fall out and I curse under my breath. I start bending down to pick them up, but Phil’s already there, saying “let me get that” in a cheerful Phil-like tone.
I smile and take them from him “what are you doing?” I ask through gritted teeth
“We’re supposed to,” He hisses back, trying not to be heard “How else will they get it?”
Get what though? What were we even doing? I was starting to regret this agreement and started inwardly arguing with myself,weighing up the pros and cons. I eventually settled on ‘it’s too late to turn back now’. Which, in all honesty, it was.
“Do you need to go to your locker?” I asked Phil
“Yeah, but you don’t have to come with me.”
“Okay,” I smiled as he began to walk off “see you later”
“Bye” he said, happily, but as soon as he left I felt deflated and exhausted. I wanted to go home but school hadn’t even started yet.
The bell rang five times consecutively, which signalled us to first lessons, mine was trigonometry, my favourite.
All my friends hated it, but I found it quite simple and had no trouble understanding any of it. It’s easy in my mind, an un-usual opinion though.
I found my friends, Cathy, Ben, Lindsay and Nathan, already waiting for me in the classroom. Cathy had saved me a seat next to her, and I slid into it without touching the table.
When she looked up she smiled at me, but it was a sad, unbelievable smile, one that you might give to someone at a funeral for support.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her immediately, not bothering to even say ‘hello’ first. Or ‘by the way I’m not really gay’
“Oh, nothing” she answered, but I could tell by the look in her eye that something was up and I wasn’t prepared to let it drop yet.
“You look upset. Did something happen?” I asked, frowning in confusion
Ben looked up at me and sort of darted his eyes away quickly, then said firmly “leave her alone”, but he said it so intense and forcefully that it was almost shouting. I felt a hostile vibe through my friends, pointed at me.
“Okay” I slouched down in my seat and waited for the teacher to come in.
The lesson dragged on, minute by minute, second by second. Time seemed to take longer when you’re looking forward to something, even though I didn’t even really know what I was looking forward to.
When the bell rang I had already packed up my things and dashed out the classroom before someone could stop me. Next lesson was art, and I loved it. It was so free, there were no rules like there were in other subjects. Nothing to go by, but you could do anything without doing it wrong. There wasn’t such thing as right or wrong in art, it was all different and unique by who was doing it.
When I sat down I immediately took out my pencils and got some paints from the cabinet under the sink. My work had already been taking its form through the past few weeks, but today I was taking a step and decided to add colour.
So far it was just pencil outlines, and markings, eventually to be turned into a large landscape painting of snow and dark trees below the beautiful colours of the northern lights.
I dipped a slightly wet paintbrush into the paint pallet, mixing the brush into a white, covering the hairs of the brush with a light layer of paint.
Taking a deep breath in, I begin to trace around the edges of the snow with a white, later to add shadows and tones to the piece, focusing on the snow on the floor for the time being.
I loved doing this, covering a canvas with my own works, watching as it slowly comes together, messing up, trying again, getting it right. Being proud of myself for something.
It was all stopped by the bell though, and everyone started packing up their equipment and talking to each other about their works and how it’s going, all blended together to make a low murmur, the sound you get when you hear a lot of people talking all at once in a large room.
As I was walking out I felt an uneasy feeling that someone was watching me. I whipped my head around quickly to come face to face with a large (understatement of the year) boy, called Harry.
His arms were three times the normal size, and it honestly looked like he was on steroids. I quickly looked away, to avoid eye contact with this boy, and to avoid a wave of his stench. God that boy smelt bad.
I whipped my body around and speed-walked outside, walking out the building, and attempting an escape, always planning an escape route.
But I narrowly missed it, as I heard an “Oi, Howell” in a low, rough voice that belonged to Harry
I turned around, knowing that if I made a run for it, I’d surely get a beating later. This boy scared the hell out of everyone that went to this school
“Yes?” I asked, trying to be as polite as possible without getting down on one knee and polishing his shoes for him.
He nudged one of his friends and snickered, then snorted “faggot” and threw his coke can at me.
Cheers mate.
That was only the start though, as my first mistake was turning around, and mumbling not-so-subtly “Take a shower, fat-ass”. He un-doubtedly heard me.
Everything went silent. Nothing moved. It was as if the world and time had stopped, and thats when every thing went too fast to process. That moment before you die kind of thing.
I felt thumping (I’m not even joking, you could hear him walk) footsteps coming towards me, I could feel his furiousness, and I was sure he could smell my fear.
As soon as he was near enough to me, he shoved me against the wall, face first, where I smashed my nose in. Blood began to flow out of it uncontrollably, trickling down my face into my mouth.
And the last thing I saw before I passed out was a big, sweaty fist flying towards me.