It's Just Us [🗸]

our revealing

***

JAMES

The slur.

It rings through my mind over and over again. It's really only been a few moments since the whole interaction happened. 

I'd been walking to lunch, passing by the lockers, the faintest of grins on my face when I passed by him. Joe.

And then, in the lowest voice he could muster, almost inaudibly, his eyes cut into mine and he uttered the word, harsh and one-syllabled, barely loud enough for me to hear.

But I heard it.

I make my way into the cafeteria, the whole interaction replaying in my head as I take a seat at my table. Distractedly poking at my pasta, my eyes glaze over in thought.

"What's up?" Gavin asks, eyebrows scrunched as he looks over at me.

"Nothing," I shake my head, briefly, even though it's pretty fucking obvious that something happened. Everyone at the table narrows their eyes at me, and Will gives me a poke in the side a few moments later, eyes refusing to leave me. 

So, I let out a breath and tell them.

"He said what?" Maddy asks, leaning forward, slapping the table with both hands, an angry pink flush burning up her face.

"Yeah. He did." I say, pausing before shrugging, "it's fine."

"This isn't fine, James," Kayla says, shaking her head, dark hair swishing from side to side as her lips purse, eyes wide and sad.

"It's actually really fucked up," Gavin says, scanning the cafeteria as if he's trying to catch sight of Joe. He runs a hand through his brown waves, lips pursing when he doesn't catch sight of said perpetrator.

"He keeps on getting worse," Alyssa says, adjusting the rings on her fingers. And no sooner have the words left her lips is she greeted with nods of agreement from the rest of our tablemates. 

"And he'll keep on getting worse if we don't stop him," Will finally speaks up, eyes narrowed into a cutting look and hands gripping his water bottle with a vice-like grip.

I pluck the slightly squeezed bottle away from him, trying to un-squeeze the dents in it. "It's honestly fine. I'll ignore him."

Andrea opens her mouth to say something in protest, and I gently cut in.

"We're almost done senior year." I say, sliding the somewhat-fixed water bottle back to Will, "we don't need any extra shit to deal with."

"I disagree." Will cuts in and I exhale a breath, "I think between the six of us," he gestures towards everyone at the table and himself, "we can totally handle him." He turns towards me, "even if you choose not to," he finishes.