Please comment, comments make me smile. x
Friendship development is key.
TWENTY-ONE: when you fail to keep the peace.
Once upon a time, I believed in being a bystander and not getting into shit that didn't directly affect me.
Since coming out, I'd realized how much of a dick I was, watching people get hurt and not intervening. I was once one of those guys who would laugh at gay jokes or laugh along when Calum 'roughed some nerd up', disregarding how wrong it felt.
So when I was walking through the welding hallway a week after my date with Paul, on my way to math and saw Pete getting slammed into a locker by Ricky, some insignificant little sophomore, I had to do something.
I had to do something to stop Paul's brother -the guy who had basically saved my ass- from getting his face pounded in. I watched as the curly haired boy was pressed hard against that locker, his boxy glasses littered on the ground, a lens cracked.
And I saw the pure fear in his eyes.
"Yo, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" I was walking with Ben, the guy mumbling about his bad grade in Lit but not really loud enough to where he'd expect me to respond. My rhetorical question had caught the attention of the other three in the hall.
The kid just scoffed an I could basically hear him rolling his eyes. I could however see his grip release a bit on Pete's shirt and it gave me the hope that I might not have to get suspended for fighting, "I'm teaching Andy Sandburg a fucking lesson."
And Ben was laughing, at least, he was trying to stifle it. The way Ricky said it so intensely was kind of fucking hilarious if we were being completely honest.
But I could still feel the tick in my jaw, arms crossed over my chest.
Benji could see me slowly losing my cool and he shook his head at the lame insult on Ricky's part, "Leave 'em alone, kid."
"Who the hell are you?" Ricky had spat, hand moving from his shoulder and clenching so tight around Pete's neck, he was starting to run a light shade of purple. His right shoulder was jabbed into the lockers and eyes were unfocused, darting around in fear as Ricky held him. And I thought back to the day I was admitted to the hospital, he'd murmured something about Ricky and been shaking with fear and I hadn't wanted to dismiss it but I had. Seeing Pete struggling to breathe as his hands were pulling at Ricky's fingers to loosen his grip made me regret letting it go.
"Seriously, Ricky, get off of him," I'd spoken up when Pete started gasping. I was getting worried and Benji was as well. Getting closer, I pulled at Ricky's shoulder, trying to keep myself calm. Benji was still a bit confused on whether to intervene but I knew if it came down to a fight, he'd win without a sweat.
I saw Ricky's grip loosen, Pete's face slowly turning back to normal. Still, he wasn't fully released when Ricky turned to direct his statement at me, "You're not my fucking captain here. I can kick your pussy ass out here; you don't run shit, fag."
"That's a lot of cursing, ain't it?" Benji chuckled, sarcastically looking towards me before turning back to Ricky as he made his way closer, "is it to make up for the fact that you're ignorant and you don't know when to shut to fuck up?"
I didn't know exactly what was happening until Pete's head had slammed into the locker behind him.
And before I could react, Benji had the kid's arm twisted back and was holding him in a locked position. Ricky cried out in pain and Pete slid to the floor, head in his hands as he seemingly protected the back of his head. He was shaking as was Ricky with the effort of getting out of Benji's tight grip.
"What the hell, man?" The boy in the hold yelled out to which my friend replied with a sardonic smile. I could see the amusement in his eyes as the weaker struggled.
"Don't go around hitting people, it's rude."
Ricky scoffed, "What're you, my mo-"
He was cut off as Benji swiped his knee into the front of Ricky's calves, caving them under and effectively pushing him to his knees, "Don't run your mouth either."
"The homo can't fight his own battles?" Ricky mouthed off, lips moving too fast and him talking a game he couldn't deliver, "Gotta have his boyfriend protect-"
Benji bent him further down, erupting a sound of pain and a strained hiss, "I suggest you shut the fuck up before I break your arm," bending a little more his voice got harder, reminding me of Caspar and his encounter with bystanders in the hall, "any more questions?"
"Get the fuck off of me," Ricky had spat, eyes straining to look back at Benji who looked up in the air as if he were thinking. We'd forgotten by then the reason why we'd been there in the first place instead of Math, Benji just enjoying himself at Ricky's groans of pain -having been informed that this guy had it out for me on the team- we'd forgotten Pete.
"Ask nicely and I might be in a good mood," Benji smirked, staring down at the kid on the ground. And for some reason, that was when I started to realize that he was there for me. He helped me out when I was getting jumped, he was slowly becoming a very important person in my life and I was so grateful for Benji, it was ridiculous.
"Ben, let him go." I couldn't get the smile off my face regardless of how firm I'd tried to be.
Benji got the message, pulling Ricky up with unnecessary force and shoving the hell out of him causing the boy to stumble, "You mess with him, you mess with me; got it?"
"Don't put your fucking hands on me."
He rolled his brown eyes, reminding me so much of Will in that moment, "Wow, how intimidating, a sixteen year old with a mouth of a sailor, I'm pissing myself." Cocking his head towards the empty hallway, my friend glared, "Get outta here."
"Fuck you, man." But Ricky was limping and quickly trying to get out of reach. I heard Ben whistle after his comment, smile gracing his plump lips.
"Nah, I get enough of that from my homo boyfriend!"
I couldn't help but laugh and when the kid was out of distance, Benji pulled me in for a bro-hug, "How did you..."
"Being best friends with Caspar, you learn to kick some ass."
I could hear Pete standing and it was silent as his footsteps got closer. Or maybe that was the administrator that was making her was down the hall, Ricky in tow.
: : :
"I don't need you to fight my battles," Pete had murmured, pressing a bag of ice to the side of his face. You could see the marks on his slightly-tan neck from Ricky's fingers that had squeezed a little too hard. Bruises were starting to form and I could see him wince -most likely from a headache- when he looked over at me.
And I felt responsible.
We were sitting in the office, waiting for Paul to show up -as Pete requested instead of his parents- being over eighteen, the guy was allowed to check Pete out of school. I didn't know why he wanted his brother to come instead of his parents but I didn't pry; Pete was already pissed at me for an unknown reason considering he'd be beaten to a pulp if Benji hadn't stepped in.
Speaking of Benji, he was lounged back in the chair on the other side of curly mop, on his phone despite being told to put it away.
I had no will to explain to Pete that he couldn't protect himself but Benji spoke up, "Well, I don't need detention for a straight week but I got it don't I?"
Pete sighed, wincing yet again at the pain in his skull, and ground out a response through gritted teeth, "I didn't ask you guys to help me; I can handle Ricky."
I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, tell that to your black eye and bruised ribs."
It was silent yet again as I tried to listen through the door of the principal's office, I'd been trying to get my mind off the fact that my parents were called and more on trying to remember the reason I was in trouble. I was protecting Pete and I didn't feel bad about that.
"Paul's gonna flip shit."
I rolled my eyes again, seriously thinking that maybe I should've let Ricky get a couple hits to his mouth so maybe it'd hurt to talk.
Pushing the thoughts aside and maybe the urge to punch Pete in the mouth, I groaned, "You think your brother is gonna be pissed, you should meet my parents."
Maybe I shouldn't have expected my personal preacher to show up or maybe I should've said parent considering the fact that Mo- Loraine had disowned me weeks prior.
Benji must've noticed the hostility in my tone because he spoke up. I just wished he hadn't, "you and your mom still beefin'?"
I snorted at the way he'd stated it and the confused look on Pete's face, "If you mean does she still hate my guts, then yeah."
"What about your dad?" He inquired, seemingly really interested in how my home life was doing; it was still slightly strange to have people worry about me.
Shrugging to hide how bad I felt, I shook my head, biting my tongue to prevent from wincing and my nonchalant response, "I haven't talked to him since I moved out."
Or really since I was kicked out but that didn't matter.
"Bro, it's been two weeks since then."
Technically, it'd only been eleven days, still, he had a point.
"I know but how the fuck am I supposed to just go back?" Leaning back in my chair, Benji and I seemingly switched statures, him leaning forward, elbows on his knees. I wanted to hit something, I felt so trapped ad with little options. I couldn't go back to her house and act like I belonged and I couldn't just avoid it all together. I could do that to my father, "I'm ruining their marriage, Ben."
"You're their kid, Julian," I felt a hand on my shoulder, it having to be Pete's due to the fact that Ben was so far away. The hand was quickly removed as I bit down hard on my bottom lip, "What your mom did was out of line, I get that and you getting some space from her was good, don't get me wrong... but you have to solve things eventually."
"She hates me," I couldn't see any reasoning in anything besides that. Benji was just being an optimist and although I liked optimism, mostly if it came from a certain curly haired angel, I didn't want to hear it, "I don't think we can solve that."
Pete shrugged and I could feel the material of his shirt rubbing against mine, that's how compacted the three of us were in these chairs, "I doubt she hates you."
I pondered over hat but before I could, the door came barreling open and a young woman -most likely in her late thirties- came through. She had a nice polished pencil skirt and blouse, hair up in a sleek bun and body radiating power. She was intimidating as she glared over at Benji, him withering and writhing in her gaze. I was scared until her voice came out, soft and smooth like honey as she pouted, noticing Pete's state, "Are you okay?" She'd asked him, eyes flickering in between all of us as if she cared about each and every one of our well beings.
She must've recognized me as did I, she was Ben's mother.
"I'm okay, Ms. Morris," I laughed out, remembering when id met her a week prior, I almost hadn't recognized her in her business attire.
"Dammit, Ben," she'd muttered after smiling politely at my response and Pete blushed muttering out a "I'm fine, ma'am."
She mustn't have heard him as she continued her conversation with her son, him being her main priority. I envied that, being so loved by the woman who birthed you that others could see it, "are you hurt?"
Ben sighed, exasperatedly, eyes rolling as he threw his head back, "No, Ma-"
"Good," she put on a false smile before smacking the back of his head and giving him a stern look at his eye roll, "now tell me what the hell happened. You got into a fight?"
Benji nodded sheepishly, "Yes, Ma..."
"Why?" She questioned and crossed her arms as she waited. I envied the way she heard him out when he was talking, how they were having a civilized conversation regardless of the fact that she didn't agree with what he was saying.
"This kid was bullying him," Ben explained, pointing at Pete who sunk down in his chair at the acknowledgement, "you know I don't like that."
His mother nodded before pulling him into hug, "looks like I raised you right."
It was silent as Ms. Morris smiled at her son regardless of the mood in the office. The chair was uncomfortable underneath me as I shifted around.
That was when I heard the angelic voice that I'd been obsessing over for weeks. The voice that I'd heard for hours every night over the phone.
And it was pained, "You were getting bullied?" He asked, my head snapping up to meet his eyes. I could see the anger in them as he kept his focus on Pete.
"Paul..." The boy beside me trailed off quietly and I could hear the hesitation, see the way he heaved and sighed. I wasn't aware of when Benji and his mother left, I was only aware of the way Paul's fists had clenched by his sides.
The way the veins in his arms popped and the way he was looking at Pete, utter betrayal on his features.
"You were getting bullied," he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Paul was trying hard to keep his cool and it almost worked if it wasn't for the strain in his voice when he ground out, "and you didn't tell me?"
Pete shook his head, "It wasn't a big deal."
And that almost made me laugh.
"Peter, look at yourself!"
"Paul," I intervened, the receptionist as the desk staring in concern. People were watching him closely, afraid he'd explode, "calm down."
Unlike any other time, he didn't respond to me but he did bite his lip as he talked to his brother in a softer voice, "I'm dropping you off home."
"Please don't tell mom."
Paul looked annoyed, "And why the hell not?"
"She'll get worried about me again." Pete had muttered in a soft voice causing his brother to frown less in disappointment but more in actual sadness.
"Is it happening again?" He'd asked, clearly implying something that wasn't of my knowledge. They both knew though, from the way Pete shifted under his brother's gaze, he understood.
"No."
"Alright," Paul sighed, "You have to talk to me, Pete."
The boy nodded, "Okay." And I could breathe easier when Paul dropped the subject and the receptionist moved her hand from the phone, that she had moved it to in worry, and focused back on her computer.
"You need a ride home, Jules?" Paul asked me, eyes finally meeting mine and I wished that I saw a smile on his face but he was a blank canvas.
I didn't like the sadness on his face.
Regardless of how much I wanted to nod, I knew he needed to spend some time with his brother alone, "No, they called my dad. I'm okay."
Paul frowned but nodded nonetheless, "Call me if you need anything."
And I could tell he meant it.
A/N:
no fluffy #paulian things but more Jules developing relationships with people around him and growing as a person.
this is becoming one of my favorite things to write, just saying.
could you guys go check out my short story 'The Many Sides of Clark'? It's a new writing style for me and I'm kind of in love with it.
Updated: Thursday, November 12th