Spencer Reid Imagines *REQUESTS CLOSED*

What Friends Are For

"I'm not going," you tell your mom, who's standing outside your bedroom door, harping you to go to school.

"You're not staying home because of a few bullies," your mom states. "It happens to everyone at some point. Get up and go to school."

You lie in your bed, tears already pooling in your eyes. Just the thought of walking the halls makes you feel sick and upset.

See, you made the mistake of sending some risky pictures to Scott, one of the most popular guys in your grade. Unfortunately, what started off as fun turned out to be the worst mistake of your life thus far.

Of course, your mom isn't empathetic. When the principal called her, she told her that she thought better of her little girl. Your dad hasn't said much, aside from the statement that he's disappointed and that you should've known better.

Needless to say, your support system has failed you.

Heaving a sigh and drying your tears, you pull yourself from under the covers and put some clothes on. You do your best to blink away the redness residing around your irises, but it doesn't do any good. You're miserable, and it shows.

You join your mom in the car, as she's your way to school. She doesn't say a word to you, just simply drives in silence.

When you arrive at the school, your mom wishes you a good day like usual, and you exit the car without a word, like usual.

You put your wireless earbuds in and brush your hair down around your ears so the teachers can't see them and confiscate them. However, even though you block out the chatter of your name in peoples' conversations, it doesn't block out the weight of everyone's stares. Even the girls that you called your friends are in a closed circle, gossiping and throwing looks your way.

You keep walking until you reach your locker. Without a glance to anyone around you, you grab your books and prepare for your classes.

Just when you're about to shut your locker, you feel a tap on your shoulder. As you turn to look who's here to likely torment you, you're surprised. It's a boy named Spencer Reid. You've never spoken to Spencer, and he's never spoken to you. Or anyone that you know of for that matter.

You take your earbuds out and grimace. "Listen, if you're here to laugh at my humiliation and obvious ridiculing, I don't want to hear it. Go find any of the groups lining the halls. They'd be happy to partake with you."

Spencer, who is a reasonable amount taller than you, frowns down at you. "No, I'm actually here to offer some help if you want it."

"The last guy that wanted to 'help' me didn't exactly do that," you snap at him. "I'm not stupid, and I'm surprised that you have the balls to approach me like this. Leave me alone."

You storm away, putting your earbuds back in and letting yourself forget about Spencer.

You sit through your morning classes, not participating or listening at all. Your teachers obviously are all aware of the situation, and none of them have the guts to talk to you or call on you in class, but that's fine with you.

Then, the worst time of your day comes along. Lunch time. Before all of this took place, you would just sit with your usual group of friends and be good to go, but now, you retreat to the library before they lock it for the lunch hour.

Doing so, you find your usual bean bag in the corner of the room, and relax. You take your phone out and check your notifications. Nothing out of the new ordinary–taunting DMs and texts, people poking fun at you on social media. It doesn't quite faze you anymore, you simply clear the notifications and ignore everyone.