The Little Mistakes (boyxboy)

Chapter 12

And now, it was Wednesday, and Phoebe was driving me nuts as we walked together after school was let out.

“It’s just why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. I clenched my jaw. “I don’t care if you’re gay. I’m probably one of the most accepting people in the world, Caise.”

I kept walking towards my locker. “Look,” I said. “I’ve told you already, Phoebs. I didn’t even know until last week.”

“And Kieran,” she grumbled, going on like I’d never said a word. “Don’t even get me started on how you didn’t tell me you were hooking up with him.”

I sighed loudly. “It only started that day. The same day everybody in the damn school figured it out. You didn’t miss anything. I’m sure the rumours are more than enough.”

She shook her head. “Whatever. Patrick is pissed, you know.”

Going for sarcasm, I said, “He’s drunk?”

She made a face. “No, you weird kiwi.” We stopped in front of my locker. I made a face back at her and put my combination into the lock. She slumped against the lockers next to me. “I meant, he’s mad.”

“Like I care about what he thinks,” I said. “What has he got to be angry about anyways? It can’t be that I’m gay. His parents are gay.”

“Well, he did have Kieran first.”

I stopped ruffling through my locker and stared at her. “Wait, so he’s jealous?”

Phoebe shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t exactly say that.”

I rolled my eyes and zipped up my bag. I stepped back and shut my locker. Phoebe trailed after me as I started walking off again.

“He’s stupid,” I said. “Besides, didn’t he end it?”

“Yes,” Phoebe said. She sighed. “I’m not saying it’s justifiable. Nobody knows what that boy has going on in his mind, and I’ll be damned if I even attempt to understand Patrick. No one really does.”

I snorted in amusement. “Phoebe, I have to go to detention. Go home.”

I walked away from her and she huffed. “Caise, you’re so lazy. Why even skip gym anyway?” she called after me.

I grumbled at myself. Her question stuck gold. I’d skipped that class specifically to avoid embarrassing or hostile run-ins with Rikert. The only thing that ended up accomplishing was a week’s worth of face-to-face time with him for two hours straight.

“Oh bugger off,” I yelled back at her.

I kept walking through the halls until I got to the room detention was in. The door was locked still so I waited outside, leaning against the wall. A couple minutes later, the biology teacher came walking towards me. Rikert was reluctantly following after him. I mumbled a hello at the teacher as he unlocked to door.

We all went into the room, Mr. Shneider flicking the lights on as we went. Rikert and I ignored each other and went to set our bags down at different tables on opposite sides of the room. Just as we were pulling out our chairs, Mr. Shneider turned around. He looked at us and shook his head.

“Uh-uhn,” he tsked. He pointed at the one table with two chairs right in front of his desk. “Both of you, right here.”

Rikert grumbled and slammed his chair he was about to sit in right back in its place. I groaned to myself and went to the assigned table. I slumped down, frustrated, into my seat. It took Rikert longer to make his way over, and when he did, he sat down angrily at my side.