45 Days to Save the Bad Boy

Seven

"Georgie, I've been looking all over for you!" Peter cried the next morning as I walked into the school building.

"Sorry Peter, I had a late start this morning," I replied in a chipper tone, trying not to let him effect me.  

But I was scared, so very worried that this would be my last day in earth and that I was about to be buried in one of the unused closets in the basement, never to be found until the year 20000 when some high tech archeologists were digging up the school and found my lone skeleton.  They would assume that I was forgetful, had locked myself in there and never got out.  The fact that this had nearly happened to me before was irrelevant, what mattered was that the real reason I would've been stuck in there this time was Peter and his desire to murder me for not staying away from his cousin.

Peter flung his arm about my shoulder and led me towards the staircase where Breton's group waits every morning.  I had arrived early, with enough time to chat with the group before my first class, so the fact that we weren't going to the classroom wasn't alarming.  What was alarming is what Peter had to say next.

"I'm sorry."

I blinked.  "What?"

"I'm sorry how I've treated you for the past three years.  I didn't-" he paused, frustrated.  "I didn't mean for it to become bullying.  I was just teasing at first.  Then other people joined in and it wasn't as funny.  Then it was mean, but I couldn't stop it.  I wanted, so badly, to try and get back to the teasing way we talked.  And so I couldn't give up.  But Harry started taking things too far, and so I had to be worse than him in order for him to stop hurting you.  And I had to keep you away from him while making it seem as though it was all still a game, because I wanted it to be a game, somewhere we have infinite lives and can make mistakes that don't matter, a place that I could have fun and we could hang out.  But we weren't playing the same game, no one in the little bully circle that had formed was.  And so now I'm quitting.  Dropping out, staying away.  Because I'm sorry.  And I know I don't deserve it, but could you forgive me?" he asked, stopping me from turning the corner towards the stairs.

"I forgive you," I said simply.  "I won't forget, not yet.  But I can forgive."  Peter nodded.  "And thanks," I added.

"What for?" he questioned.  His voice was wretched, filled with self-loathing.

"For telling me," I replied with a smile, and we walked to the stairs.

Dallas let me say hello to everyone before pulling me away, into the little alcove Peter and I had just stood in.

"Georgie!  I'm in trouble," he said.

"What kind of trouble?" I asked in alarm.  "Do they have evidence?  Will I need to bury a body?  I don't know how to bury a body Dallas!"

“Calm down!  Not that kind of trouble, jeez.  Like, relationship troubles,” the poor, confused boy told me.

“Well, wouldn’t you rather talk to Hayley or someone who actually knows what they’re talking about?”  I seriously did not know what I was doing at all.

“I can’t!  They don’t know I’m...gay,” he whispered.  Oh.

“Alright, I’ll do my best,” I said, bracing myself.  I’ve seen enough movies to know that the love-struck person will talk forever about their crush.

“I have a crush on--” Dallas began.

“AH!” I screamed before he could finish.

“What?” he asked.  Then he stopped and turned around slowly, realizing he hadn’t been the only one to ask me what happened.  Breton was right behind Dallas, giving the two of us a strange look.