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F woke up.
It’s time for another day. He wanted to confess his love so, so bad. He loved B more than anything else. Even though B bullied him to hell and back, he still wished that they could tie the knot and hopefully, one day, just be together.
But he won’t.
He can’t.
Never can F confess. In no instance, in no universe. In no world can F hold B’s hand. In no school can they skip through the hallway. In no world, will F be seen more than “the french boy bullied by B.” Never. Only at home will he be seen more than an ugly French bitch.
Well, it’s time to stop lamenting. It’s time to get a move on, isn’t it? Let’s not worry about what can’t be fixed. It’s fine. It’s not like F’s fantasies will ever come true. It’s not like the bullying or swirlies will stop. Even S will never “date” him. She had a history of “dating” ugly boys and then burning them at the stake with betrayal after she revealed his biggest secrets.
F didn’t want to go to school any more than he did now.
“hey F”
“Quoi?”
“i heard you like B”
It’s good that the bus ride went well. This time, the popular kids didn’t see him. This time, he’d get off scott free.
The hallways were lively. Lively as ever. People babbling, chattering, talking about their weekend. F really wished he could be like them. The others had so many friends. So many people to share their secrets with. F had S. He thought he was enough. It never was. It never will be.
Someone caught sight of F.
So did S.
The hallways went silent. So did F.
“Why are you standing like a deer in headlights?” “Yeah, why?” “Why?” A barrage of “why” came at F like a snowstorm from S and her posse.
“Nothing, sorry!” he scrambled.
If this gets 50 kudos I’ll continue it
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