I didn't talk to Kurt at all during break, but when we got back, he seemed even friendlier than ever. He wasn't afraid to talk to me, not just at lunch but in the hallway... and sometimes during class.
"Hey, Stefanie," he whispered during class, "you want to see a poem I wrote?" We were in the back of the room, so I didn't think I could be heard or seen by the teacher.
"Of course. I didn't know you wrote stuff."
He passed me a paper.
"They call it social studies/ but it just shows our society/ is just a fake institution/ like soul prostitution./ What is this crazy world?/ Why can't we be antisocial?"
Whoa. This was pretty cool. "Wow, Kurt," I whispered. "You could use this in a song someday." My voice unintentionally rose. "It's so punk."
"Westcott! Cobain!" barked Mr. Bradford. As if by reflex, I hid the poem under my book. "No talking in class."
"He was asking me what... the homework... was. Yeah," I fibbed.
The teacher still frowned. "We already went over that, Kurt," he said. "Stefanie, let him figure that out himself."
Gosh, I felt kinda bad. I hoped I didn't embarrass him.
The next morning, I was headed to literature with Pam, Kevin, and Mike, when I saw a couple of guys standing in front of Kurt, angrily facing him. One of them shoved him into a locker. God, you'd think they'd learn to behave. They're juniors.
"What the hell?!" Kurt shouted, taking a defensive stance. He was wearing a loose, blue plaid shirt that I thought brought out his eyes. "Get away!"
"Shut up, you queer," the other guy snarled. He's not gay, I wanted to yell.
"Whoa, harsh," Pam whispered. Kevin and Mike just stood there like statues. I wanted to speak out, but would those huge jocks listen or care? And what if Kevin broke up with me? I didn't want to take the risk, but seeing Kurt suffer was pretty awful.
"Is that the guy you tutor?" asked Kevin.
"Yeah." I hoped he wouldn't hear the pain in my voice as I hid behind him like he was a shield.
The bell rang and one of the boys pushed Kurt down to the floor. Crap, I was already late for class. And my friends had all left. It was just me and him.
"I'm so sorry, Kurt," I muttered as I stretched out my hand to help him off the smooth tiled floor. He took it and then walked off.
"I'm used to it," he grumbled, his back turned, taking a step away.
Had I done enough? I didn't want to ruin my reputation. And I didn't know why he was being so rude. I wish I could have helped him more.
~Hey all! This chapter was really short, and I'm sorry I don't write more often! But thanks for reading!~