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People who are suffering from emotional wounds tend to easily annoyed with others for no apparent reason.
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“I thought we’d gotten past this.” Randall remarked, disappointment evident in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Sage apologized, looking down at his hands. There was nothing worse than disappointing someone you cared about, and that’s exactly how he felt when Randall found him in the bathroom, having lunch.
The black-haired boy sighed, shaking his head. “I told you that as long as we’re friends, you don’t need to eat in here anymore.” His words trailed off when he saw tears glistening in Sage’s eyes, slowly leaking over, leaving a crystal path. “Christ … are you okay? Did someone bully you?”
“I-I’m fine.” Sage apologized, swiping his finger under his eyes, removing the tears. He didn’t want to tell Randall that Carlos had cornered him in the lockers after physical education class earlier, the torrent of vitriolic insults that spewed from his mouth, and the contact of a fist meeting his stomach, numerous times. He didn’t want to feel any more useless than he felt right then and there.
Just when he was starting to think that things were starting to blow over, it only picked up again when photocopied versions of his diary were out, stuck up on every last wall in the school. Sage was sure that Randall hadn’t seen, or else he’d treat him with the contempt he deserved, for sure. There was no place in the world for a low-life faggot like him as Carlos had told him, and he was beginning to believe. After all, what boy likes another boy? There was nothing normal about that, and then, Sage had been enlightened on that fact. It was only a matter of time before Xander found him again, shipping him off to the hospital next.
Sage was still shaking from the encounter with the terrifying senior, but nevertheless, he felt a sea of relief cloud his body now that Randall was here, although it should never be. He could leave at any moment, leaving Sage to fend for himself once again.
“Hell no, you’re not, Sage. You’re crying.” Randall pressed, replacing Sage’s hands in wiping away his tears. His hands fell to his side, limply. “Who did this to you?”
As expected, Sage kept his mouth shut, fearing that if he told him, Carlos would come back. Instead, he tried dissuading Randall. “I-I’m okay n-now, Rand.”
“Sage…” he whispered, the fury flowing through him slowly disolving when the skinny boy wrapped his hands around his waist in a hug. Still, that didn't make him feel completely at ease. He pushed him the sophomore, holding him out at an arm’s length. “If you won’t tell me what happened, I’ll just go beat the fuck out of the crack-head and his pussy for friends.” His eyes flashed with realization, then they simultaneously narrowed. “It’s about that diary, isn’t it?”
Sage shook his head, clinging to Randall’s arm so he wouldn’t run off. “N-no. P-please don’t.” registering the look of fear in Sage’s eyes made Randall’s insides churn, but he decided to push it off and relax.
“Fine,” he said, with a huff. “You can’t let them continue fucking you over, Sage.”
Sage looked down. “I-I know.” He heard Randall sigh, and he was almost afraid to look up.
“Let’s go. I feel like I’m going to be sick. If I do get sick, I’m blaming it on you, cinnamon.” Randall warned, poking Sage in his chest. His hands raised in his defence, his heterochromia-like eyes widened to their full width.
“B-but I didn’t! A-and don’t call me cinnamon, please.” Sage intoned, unable to resist the watery laugh that flowed past his lips.
“I will if you don’t pack up. Seriously, Sage. How can you eat in here? I’m going to throw up on you!”
“No!” Sage shrieked, instantly rising to his feet, pushing his laughing friend out of the cubicle, to the sink. “D-do it there.”
When Randall’s laughter finally subsided, he composed himself, mirth still dancing around in his pretty eyes. “Just joking. At least I got you out.”
Before Sage could shrink back in his abode, Randall’s hands slid into his, wiggling his fingers through the spaces between Sage’s. He nodded to the exit. “Ready?”
The blond’s heart started beating out of control, and his eyes furiously darted back and forth between Randall and the door, hesitant. Where was the cloak of invisibility when you needed it? Or at least the ability to snuggle himself in Randall’s side where no one could see him.
The feel of hands rushing through his hair made him jump, only to discover that it was Randall. “You have nice hair.” He commented, trying to distract Sage from the issue at hand. Colour flooded the boy’s pale cheeks, and he looked down, his gaze falling on interlocked fingers.
“R-Randall … we-we can’t be holding …” his voice faltered, so he resorted to wiggling his hand against Randall’s.
“Why not?” he asked, not letting go.
Sage’s lightly coloured brows caved in, and he tentatively stared up at Randall through his thick eyelashes. “B-because … because …”
“Nothing.” Randall finished for him. “Just because two boys hold hands don’t make them, and I quote, ‘fags’ end quote. Two girls can do the same and it’s not a problem, so screw whichever bigoted piece of shit who wants to be biased.” His lips bent in a scowl, and he rolled his eyes at how indignant the whole thing was. “They’re not even homophobic. Do you know Ted and Lewis?” he asked, his gaze flickering to Sage’s, hopefully.
Sage shook his head, some blond curls taking advantage of the situation to escape from behind his ear. Randall continued. “Basically, they’re a couple, both on the football team. Nobody has a problem with them.”
Brushing the errant strands of hair back, Sage bit his lip, confused.
Randall continued. “They’re only after you because you’re afraid of them. That’s where bullies generate their power from, you know? But don’t worry. I’m here to kick you their asses.” Randall bragged, a cock smile lighting up his face. “And, uh, one more thing. Why Xander?”
Sage looked away from his intense gaze. He caught the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth, remaining silent. He was not planning to tell him what happened to him on that day at school, when he first saw Xander.
“He’s an asshole, Sage.” Randall continued, his voice dropping below to a whisper. “And straight. Not to mention that he has serious issues, that bipolar shithead.”
Sage felt something in him drop. The feeling of disappointment you get when you hear something bad about someone or something you love, and for some reason, Sage refused to believe that Xander was that bad. Thinking back to his eyes and the picture the other day, he couldn’t help but feel as though Xander was misunderstood somehow.
Sage strived to find the good in everyone, and he believed that Xander had a good side too, despite his sarcophagus exterior. He was curious to see it, but then he recognized what he was doing. The typical good-girl-breaks-bad-boy scenario you’d find so easily in a typical angst story.
Pushing that thought out of his head, he decided to be realistic and not idealistic in his approach. This was real life and not a story. In real life, the good girl almost never ended up with the bad boy, and to make matters worse, Sage was a boy, despite his girlish mien and demeanor. Xander would never like him back, and he knew it. Judging by the look on his face whenever he saw him was enough to tell.
Resurfacing from the depths of his thoughts, he replied to Randall’s question. “I … I don’t know.”
Randall remained from asking any more questions. They departed from the bathroom, out into the corridors that were bustling with students who were, no doubt, gazing at Sage’s shameful diary entries.
And he was right. That was precisely what the cluster of students was doing, and some even turned to stare at the writer. Sage felt the stinging effect of tears at his eyeballs, but he tried pushing the feeling aside. But what he couldn’t evade was the heat, pooling in either of his cheeks, highlighting them in a faint pink.
Suddenly, Randall was no longer by his side. He’d dived in the crowd, shoving past kids until he reached the source of interest. He ripped it off, crumbling it and tossing it in a bin before sauntering back to Sage, lacing fingers again.
Sage couldn’t help the small bubble of happiness that surfaced within him, causing him to let out a small bubble of laughter. “Thanks, Randall.”
Randall squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture, offering him a small smile. “Don’t mention it.”
They took an unexpected turn, heading in a direction Sage wasn’t familiar with. “Where are we … w-where are we going?”
“Courtyard.”
Some of the tension in Sage’s shoulders seeped out at the realization that they weren’t heading to the cafeteria. The mild feeling of reprieve morphed into shock as he raised his head, his eyes possessing magnetic-like ability as they found themselves drawn to the tousle-haired boy. He was before his locker, staring at something inside, seeming oblivious to everything around him; as usual. A red-head was leaning against the locker next to him, simultaneously talking to, and peering at girls strolling by, who were sending them flirtatious winks and batting of eyelashes, fake or otherwise.
Sage’s shoes suddenly became the most intriguing thing in the world, as his eyes wouldn’t leave it. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he could feel his palms building up with sweat – which he wiped in his jeans. He just hoped that he could make it by them, unnoticed, invisible. But that dream came to a lousy crash when Carter spoke up.
“If it ain’t Randall. You a faggot, man?” Carter said in a fake voice of enlightenment and admiration. “And, well, if his lil boyfriend ain’t the homo sophomore.”
Sage fully expected Randall to deny it, but he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even seem to care. He merely shrugged. “No shit, Sherlock.”
Carter shot back with a snide remark, but Sage didn’t hear it. He found himself glancing over at Xander, unconsciously. He anticipated a fist to his face or a cold glare, but that wasn’t the case. Xander wasn’t even looking at him. His eyes were zooming in on where Sage and Randall were connected; at their interlocked fingers. Xander’s eyes were narrowed, his face twisted in a scowl of disgust, and judgement.
“Fuck it.” Xander snapped, out of nowhere. He snatched the box of cigarettes from Carter before slamming his locker shut, storming off in a remote direction. Sage wasn’t sure when the bantering between Randall and Carter ended, and before he knew it, they’d started moving once again, resuming their walk as though nothing happened.
The courtyard was just a few more steps away, and before Sage knew it, they were already finding a seat in the designated area, severing ties between their fingers. Sage sat in an area where he could see everyone, immediately regretting. It wasn’t crowded or anything, but just about everyone who wasn’t looking at him had their head down in a book, nonchalant or they didn’t spot him yet. Surely, a normal person would crave the attention he was getting, but not Sage. Even if he’d been highlighted for a positive deed, he still wouldn’t want this torrent of spotlight. He was notorious, which only worsened everything.
Sage looked down at his hands, his eyes snapping up to meet Randall’s when he cleared his throat.
“I hate seeing you like this.” He commented, pulling out a couple of books from his bag. Seeing that Sage lowered his head, unresponsive, he decided to skip around the issue. “And I fucking hate maths!”
“I-It’s not that hard…” Sage interjected, causing Randall to whine even more.
“I loathe your math brains … how can you love a subject like this? It’s the hardest one in history.”
Sage couldn’t help the small giggle that bubbled from his throat. He quickly covered his mouth, his cheeks flushing. “Pure maths is much more—”
Randall cut him off. “Don’t.” his eyes returned to his book, only to find Sage’s small hands on it, turning it so he could have a better look. “Sage, these are too complex for you…” he trailed off when he saw a strange flicker of excitement in Sage’s eyes, and he jotted down something in his notebook.
“Velocity … times … acceleration…” Sage mumbled, along with a string of words that just sounded like gibberish to Randall. Sage was chewing on the head of his pencil as he continued working, occasionally poking it in his cheek, his red lips sticking out in a mini pout as he thought. Randall’s eyes fell on his friend’s hands again, where he decided to comment.
“You’re left-handed?” he stupidly asked.
Obviously! It was just that the way he wrote was kind of strange, seeing that his hand was bent to an almost impossible angle, making it seem like he was writing upside-down. Randall decided against commenting on that one, recalling how infuriating it was whenever someone questioned his eyes.
At the question, Sage raised his head, biting his lip, his cheeks still holding a faint hint of crimson. “Y-yes … i-it’s weird, I know …” suddenly, he slotted the pencil in his right hand, and began writing like he was before, minus the upside-down. Like that was completely normal.
“You’re ambidextrous. That’s so fucking cool.” Randall exclaimed, gawking at Sage as he wrote. The blond gave him a nervous smile, but quickly continued writing. In no time, he let out a small sigh, pushing the book towards Randall. His eyes skimmed over the answers, taking in Sage’s penmanship. It wasn’t as elaborate as Randall’s, but it was still readable, nevertheless. The correct answers were circled, and Randall was even more surprised. He looked up at Sage, eyes and mouth agape.
“I-It’s … the answers m-may be wrong … I-I… Sorry…” his rambling came to an end, and he dropped his head, his hair making a canopy of pastel blond tendrils over his forehead, sheathing his large eyes.
“Stop doubting yourself, G. God, you’re awesome!” Randall praised, his lips spreading into a wide grin. “You have to help me in math. I doubt it that most sophies can kick junior math’s ass like you do.”
Sage began his habit of graffiti art in the corner of his notepad, desperate for the accolade to end. “M-my mom is a t-teacher … she taught me.”
Randall nodded, spacing out for a bit before he piped up, as though he’d just recalled some crucial information. “Speaking of help, we’re kind of short-staffed at TB.” That look of perplexity twinkled in Sage’s eyes, so Randall decided to clarify. “Taste Buds, remember?”
Sage dropped his eyes again. “U-um … oh …”
“So we decided to hire someone else,” Randall said. “Think you’d like to volunteer? To work, I mean. You’d get paid and everything.”
Sage’s eyes were saucepans as he looked back into amethyst pools called eyes. “M-me?” he sputtered, pointing a finger to himself.
“No, me.”
“Oh!” Sage whispered, relaxing. Randall did a face-palm, lazily dragging it down his face as the sarcasm flew right by Sage.
“I was being sarcastic. Of course I mean you!”
Sage went back to being a stuttering mess, seeming absolutely baffled, perplexed and indecisive all in one. You’d have thought that Randall just asked whether he wanted him to murder ‘CXC’ in cold blood or not.
Randall reached across the table, gaining a grip on either of Sage’s plump cheeks, which coloured themselves red almost instantly. “Calm down, Trem. It’s just an offer. I think you should work there, because it’d be good for your anxiety, and Nyx and Vera absolutely love you.”
“R-really?” Sage asked, trying to get Randall to release his cheeks.
“Definitely.”
Sage’s thoughts drifted to his mother. She was very protective of him. She’d never let him work, and he knew that much. “But I'm f-fifteen, and my mom … she…”
Randall quickly interjected. “Stop overthinking for a minute. It’ll be okay. Believe it or not, fifteen and fourteen year olds can work. And as for your mother, I'm sure I can persuade her.”
Sage snorted. “You can’t p-possibly persuade her! She’s … um … difficult…”
Randall abruptly stood from his seat, patting Sage’s head in a supposed sign of consolidation. A knowing grin was stretched across his face, which had Sage growing concerned. “We’ll see about that, ‘kay?”
* * *
Many of you are probably wondering (maybe) why there isn’t any progress between Xander and Sage. Well, the answer’s pretty simple.
Sage’s life will not revolve around Xander just because he’s his crush. Real life doesn’t work like that, and I want Sage to grow as a character, not some clingy brat weakling like most people take him for. And no, Xander was not jealous … probably not…
Ayo! Please remember what I said. JUST BECAUSE PEOPLE SHIP THEM DOES NOT MEAN THEY’LL END UP AS A COUPLE IN THE END!
Don’t say I didn’t warn you!
Fun fact about me:
I write exactly how Sage writes. Everyone be like ‘how do you write like that?’ it’s so annoying. Heard it one too many times, you know?
I’m ambidextrous too, but I can’t write with my right hand that well like Sage.
QOTC:
What do you think of Randie’s proposition? Sage, working? What is the world coming to? Kids grow up so fast, yea?
Also, I’d just like to take this opportunity to thank all those who are voting! The support is absolutely amazing!