Tyler

Before I even opened my eyes, I heard my alarm clock pounding. Another day in hell, I thought. Oops, I meant school. Sometimes I couldn’t see the difference. I got up and went to the bathroom. In bathroom mirror, as usual, I didn’t like what I saw.

As I showered, I winced at the pain I felt from the new cuts I made the other night. I was ashamed of myself. Why couldn’t I be perfect, like everyone expected me to be? If everyone knew who I really was, they would probably send me to hell, I scolded myself. The preacher’s boy: a cutter and gay. I didn’t like who I was, but it wasn’t like I could help it.

I could never tell my parents that I liked boys. They would probably send me to one of those camps. Just that thought made me shiver.

I got dressed in a band t-shirt and some skinny’s, and Converse. I put my band merch bracelets on to cover the cut wounds before I went downstairs. I said goodbye to my parents, and ran out the door.

As I was walking to school, I noticed a boy walking on the other side of the road. He was really cute. Did he go to my school? Why hadn’t I noticed him before? I thought to myself. You’re the preacher’s son, you can’t be thinking these things about other boys, a voice in my head told me. Even if he was gay, which he probably was not, I wouldn’t have been able to go out with him anyways in fear of my father finding out.

He was very good looking, though. I forced myself to look away as I approached the school building. I didn’t see any of the people who picked on me, so I was safe for now. I ran into the school and went to my homeroom.

On my mp3 player I blasted Bulletproof Love by Pierce The Veil. My father hated my choice of music. But my mother always told to let me be, she said I needed to find my own identity and not just be ‘the preacher’s son’.

Music was like my salvation. It was the only thing beautiful around me, something that was always there for me no matter what.

When the bell rang, I grabbed my stuff and headed to my first period. I found some papers taped to locker.

Kill yourself

Fucking weirdo

Shane must have done this.

I wondered if whether they would they say “Well, he deserved it” if I actually did?

I tore the papers down and shoved them in the nearest garbage can. By this time, the bell had already rang. I was late again. Typical, I thought as I slammed my locker shut.

“Hey fag,” Shane, the bully, said, smirking. I jumped in surprise.

“I’m not a fag,” I replied looking down.

“Yeah right,” he chuckled.

He pushed me against the locker and I hit my head into the metal. I could feel the pounding in my head as I fell to the ground. I heard laughing and then footsteps echoing down the hall as they left me groaning in pain.

“Help,” I whispered, but I knew no one could hear me. I heard more footsteps coming towards me and the last thing I saw, before I blacked out, was the face of that beautiful boy I saw on the sidewalk…

*****

Chris

I had decided to ditch my first class. I didn’t like math anyways and my teacher never taught. I didn’t understand the need to be in that class. Besides, we had a sub today. Whenever we have a sub, the other students went nuts. I didn’t understand that either. I didn’t understand a lot of things, really.

I heard a clash around the corner. I walked around the corner and saw about six jocks walking away from this adorable boy on the floor, groaning in pain.

“Help me,” he whispered. He looked like he was about to pass out. For some reason I stared at his face for a second before I saw his eyes close.

“Hey,” I said, looking at him. “Come on, wake up.” I prodded. He didn’t move.

I walked to the water fountain and filled up one hand with the freezing water. I poured it under his shirt and stepped back. He gasped and jumped, banging his head on the locker. Groaning, he looked around, fear in his eyes, and landed on me.

“W-Who are you and w-why did you do that?”

I rolled my eyes and held out my hand.

“You were knocked out,” I said pulling him up. “Did those jocks do that to you?”

“Yeah,” he said sadly.

“Does your head hurt? Do you need to go to the nurse?” I asked. He shook his head, an urgent look in his eyes.

“Ms Sandy would make me go to the office if I came to her again,” he said. Again? Was he implying that this was a regular thing for him? I asked myself.

“So… then what do you want to do? You obviously can’t go to class like this,” I said.

“I don’t know,” he said rubbing his head.

“Do you want to skip with me?” I said with a smile.

“I guess, as long as my parents don’t find out. They’d kill me,” he replied.

Suddenly, something clicked. He looked familiar… Then I remembered.

“You’re the preacher’s son right? From the church down the street?” I asked.

His smile dropped.

“Unfortunately, yes.” he replied.

“Cool, I guess,” I smirked and grabbed his hand. “Come on, preacher’s boy,”

We ran out of the school and crossed the street before slowing down to walk. When we slowed down, I heard the most beautiful laughter coming out of the boy’s mouth. Wow, I should really find out his name, I thought to myself.

“So, what’s your name, preacher’s boy?” I asked. He looked down, but I could still see his blush.

“Tyler,” he said quietly.

“Tyler,” I repeated. “I like the sound of that. Much better than my name.” I said. “My name is Chris,” I looked over at him, then down at our hands that were still joined together.

“That’s a nice name,” he said, smiling. I kept my eyes on our hands.

How come I like this so much? I asked myself. I knew I was gay, but I this was a stranger. He was the preacher’s son, he couldn’t possibly be gay, I thought. Then again, I wondered if he felt the same way I did as he held my hand…

*****

How do you feel about the treatment Tyler got from his schoolmates? Do you think Chris is also gay? Why? Why not?