A Better Word For "Us"

Prologue

School used to be my favorite place. I had tons of friends, amazing grades, and I was fairly popular. It was great...until the incident that caused everything to crumble and fall. It was one guy. We were supposed to keep it a secret. One.Stupid.Mistake. A mistake that has cost me my whole life. Today was supposed to be my first day of High School...but why should I even bother going. They don't want me there. I don't even want myself, anymore...

It was a bright summer's day, and me and Corvin were out by the beach-side, splashing around in the water, laughing.

I felt the a slight breeze ruffle my hair, hitting me with the scent of sea water. Such a comforting scent. 

If only I'd known that this comfort wouldn't last.

We walk into the little bathroom stalls to change out of our soggy clothes, shiver as the wind brushed agaisnt our soaked bodies.

We were changing, the only thing separating us being a thin wall. He asks me a question that has me reeling, and I stagger back, my spine slamming into the wall behind me.

"Woah, you good bud?" His voice was steady. Normal. As though the question he'd asked me had been the most casual thing in the world- as though he'd merely asked me about my day.

But he hadn't. He'd asked me something much deeper. Much more personal.

"Fine," I murmur. My mind felt fuzzy. And numb. 

A few beats of silence pass between us.

I hear the door of his stall creak. The pad of footsteps follows.

"Well, are you?".

Someone else might've though he was still asking me if I was okay. He wasn't. He was asking for an answer to his earlier question, and he seemed persistent.

I don't respond.

"C'mon man, I wont tell anyone, if you don't want me to," Corvin coaxes, and I feel my barriers crumble. He was my best friend. Of course he wouldn't tell anyone. 

We both knew what their reactions would be. We both knew what would happen if that information got out. I'd probably have to move- or maybe even change my identity- Lord knows. And if my dad found out? The rest of my life would be spent on the streets, begging and scrounging for quarters.

...

"Yea," I answer simply.