A/N: IM SO SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE I PROMISE THIS WONT BECOME A PATTERN! I HAVE JUST HAD A LOT OF SCHOOL WORK AND THEN I GOT SICK AND UHG.
So I was really conflicted on how this was going to play out, like I don't want things to move too quickly, but at the same time I don't want to have the same things happen over and over so idk
PHIL'S POV
I could feel myself teetering on the edge of sleep as my teacher droned on and on. Maybe it was just his monotonous voice, but I felt as if I had been in this room for hours. My eyes were just beginning to flutter closed when the shrill ringing school bell went off. I jumped, nearly stabbing myself in the eye with my pencil. (Personal experience...) Tiredly pushing myself out of my seat, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.
With my head down, I shuffled through the hallway full of teenagers, pressed as closely as I could to the wall.
I had a free period next, which meant an hour of sitting by myself in the library. This was certainly my favorite part of the day—I had always loved reading. It had been my escape from reality for as long as I remember. Whenever that sinking feeling of depression began to soak into my mind, I would simply pull out a book and begin reading. Of course, this was only a temporary fix. Eventually, the horrible thoughts would break through their paper dam, and I would be left to drown.
I was jolted out of my mind as I crashed into someone. Their bag fell to the ground, sending pencils and pens scattering.
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry! I hurried to the floor, quickly picking up the student's things. "I—I wasn't looking where I was—ah!" My words were cut short as a foot collided with my stomach, sending me sprawling backward.
Groaning, I looked up at the figure guardedly, already knowing who it would be.
"Be more careful next time, faggot," Anthony spat, glaring down at me with disgust. Tony and Sam stood behind him, both with similar sneers. I looked around, praying there would be a teacher I could draw the attention of, but the hall was nearly empty, and I didn't think I could rely on any of the almost-late students to help me.
"Looking for your little boy toy, masochist?" Sam, the tall, lanky, brunet spat out.
"I'm not a masochist." My voice shook with emotion.
"Ah, that's too bad," Anthony stepped forward, bending down so he was level with me. "Because if you were, you would love this."
I held a hand up; a feeble attempt to block whatever was coming.
"Hey, teachers coming!" I heard a yell echo down the hallway. I cracked one eye open to see a brown-haired figure jogging down the hall.
"Ah shit..." Anthony trailed off as he grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "You got lucky, pretty-boy," He spat, casting me a mean glare.
I stayed on the floor, my balled fists tremoring as I watched the trio turn and hurry down the hall.
As soon as they were out of sight, I let out a breath I was unaware I had been holding.
"You okay?"
Dan stood above me; an awkward smile on his face and his hand extended for me to take. I looked at him hesitantly, briefly considering the possibility this was part of some elaborate scheme to torture me...no, they were all too stupid for that. I grabbed Dan's hand, allowing him to help me up. "Yeah, fine." I let go of him the minute I was standing, refusing to make eye-contact.
We stood in an awkward moment of silence before I finally spoke.
"You, um, might want to go catch up with your friends," I muttered, nodding in the direction they had run off in.
"Oh," Dan said flatly. He didn't move.
I raised an eyebrow questioningly. "What?"
"What class do you have?"
"Free period—I go to the library."
Dan nodded slowly. "Could I come with you? I don't fancy doing work right now."
I looked at him with surprise. "Seriously?"
"Well, yeah." Dan shrugged.
I hesitated, then sighed. "Sure, whatever. C'mon."
DAN'S POV
The walk to the library was quiet. I had tried talking once or twice, but the conversation never stuck.
I glanced up, my gaze lingering on him for a second longer than I'd like to admit. His fringe just brushed the top of his cheekbones and the sunlight pouring through windows made his eyes shine a bright blue color. I caught myself, feeling my cheeks flush. What the fuck.
I could see Phil looking at me out of my peripheral vision and made an effort to stare straight ahead.
"See something you like?"
I blanched. "Wha—no! I was just lost in thought!"
Phil shook his head, laughing softly. "Relax, I'm kidding."
"Oh, yeah, of course..." I said lightly, trying to mask the embarrassment in my tone.
Moments later we made it to the library. I had only just walked in when I heard a loud, strict voice call my name.
"Howell! "
"Shit..." I turned around to see a very angry librarian striding towards us.
"I thought I told you: you are no longer allowed to come to the library during free period!" Mrs. Loweden scolded me. She was an ancient woman with wire-framed glasses; her face twisted into a permanent sneer from years' worth of frown lines.
"I know Ma'am, I was just-"
"He's with me, Miss," Phil interrupted, "I'm tutoring him in science and we were looking for a quiet place to study. Do you think we could stay in here? I promise we won't cause trouble."
Not once in my time at this school had I seen Mrs. Lowden smile, but there she was: frown lines and dark, drawn-on brows all upturned as if being pulled on by invisible strings.
"Oh, alright Phillip, but you keep an eye on that boy!" She waggled a finger, laughing (or rather, cackling) to herself. "Keep him out of trouble."
"Haha, yes ma'am!" Phil smiled widely, casting her a brief wave.
I looked at Phil in amazement as we found a table and sat down. "How the hell did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Talk to her! She hates everybody!"
"This is just a stab in the dark," Phil pulled a book out of his bag, setting it on the table, "but if she doesn't like you and your friends, it's probably because you're all assholes."
I began to defend myself, but the words died on my lips; he was right.
"What did you do to get banned from the library anyway?" Phil asked.
I smirked. "Me, Anthony, Sam snuck a few porn magazines into the 'educational learning' section."
"Oh my gosh, you're awful." Phil snickered.
"You should have seen the look on the headmaster's face!" I exclaimed.
We burst into a quiet fit of laughter, doing our best to stay out of Mrs. Lowden's ear-shot.
After our laughter died down, we pulled out our books and began reading.
I had only made it across a few pages when Phil nudged me, sliding his book over. "Tell me this isn't the best paragraph in the world."
I took the book, turning it towards me.
"I walk around the school hallways and look at the people. I look at the teachers and wonder why they're here. If they like their jobs. Or us. And I wonder how smart they were when they were fifteen. Not in a mean way. In a curious way. It's like looking at all the students and wondering who's had their heart broken that day, and how they are able to cope with having three quizzes and a book report due on top of that. Or wondering who did the heart breaking. And wondering why."
(The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky)
I thought about the text for a moment, thinking about what it might mean to Phil. "Yeah, it's great." I turned towards him, my heart thumping off-beat when I realized our faces were only an inch or two apart. Phil looked just as surprised as me; his eyes widened, and his breathing seemed to falter for a second. As simple a movement as it was, I somehow struggled to break his gaze. Only when the loud ringing of the school bell cut through the library did I jerk away. Phil looked back down at his book, his cheeks burning. Mine were undoubtedly doing the same.
"My class is on the other side of the school; I-I should probably hurry," I blurted out stupidly.
"Yeah, um, you don't want to be late," Phil muttered, shoving his book back into his book bag. He didn't look at me.
I quickly turned on my heel and hurried into the hall, keeping my head down.
What the fuck was that? I'm straight. I've always been straight. I've dated plenty of girls. I was raised Christian. The idea of sleeping with a guy, or even kissing one, repulses me. I'm not gay. But, fuck, his eyes are pretty.
A/N: So that was it! I feel like I have a weird writing style, like one paragraph will be really good and descriptive and the next one will suck. It's like my writing randomly hits puberty. Once again, I am so so so so sorry this is late! I was just really busy!