Despair

I Have To Live With That.

It's been a while, few weeks or so.

Our project did way too well but we haven't talked much ever since. He's not sitting next to me anymore, either— there's no need for it. And I don't stick around after school, I never did. Why would I start now?

Yeah, okay. I leave faster now, I guess. It's better this way— he's not pissing me off, so I don't have to tell him to stop.

There are things about him I still hate, though. But those are... new.

Like I kinda hate his hair now. Especially when he comes to class right after showering and it's not wet nor dry, just sort of... soft— it's annoying. I kinda hate it when I catch him looking at me across the classroom, and that yellow hoodie he always wears, because it makes me think there's too much room for hands underneath and what kind of f**k is that thought living in my head rent-free?

I hate it when we bump against each other because there's no need to stroke my arm to say you're sorry. There's really no need to ask if I want a drink from your water when I clearly have my own, and I really hate that I keep saying yes.

It's Friday and mom isn't home tonight.

I wasn't grounded and we haven't talked much since then, either. Not that I mind— I wouldn't know what to say. I mean... Should I apologize? f**k no. Should she? Sure, but she can't see it. I get angry and all, but... I know. She wants to believe that things are different, right? I don't know how much I can actually blame her for that.

Sometimes I even get it. I'm sure it's easier to be... blind. Safer, maybe. And honestly convincing yourself that things don't totally suck? That's a skill I'd like to have myself.

Chloe's about to leave and is still her insufferable self, but... she knocks on my door now.

Ever since yesterday.

Beggin' by Måneskin (Cover)

WARNING: The upcoming scene includes a slight, non-explicit form of molestation involving a small, side character. If this may trigger you, please message me and I'll let you know what the scene is about so you can continue reading without the plot hole.

(19:20) check out the t**s on this one

(19:20) ur welcome ?

That's the random, anonymous group message that I got.

First I started at it, having no idea how whoever this was had my number— I don't give it away. But didn't even get to block it before I saw the pic of the sleeping girl with her shirt up.

It still makes me sick.

I recognized her from her pink and purple hair— Sophie Something. She comes to our school and she's really nice to everybody, almost too nice. You couldn't see her face well in the picture, but I remembered her from wearing the same MHA t-shirt because I love that show.

I texted back:

(19:21) what the actual f**k?

And I figured other people were just as confused, but... I guess I'm blind, too.

(19:21) daaamn

(19:22) oh ya brooo

And I thought: Okay, maybe the're dating. Maybe she was into that, maybe the world didn't totally suck.

(19:23) been wanting to hit that b***h for AGES u the MAN

But it does.

(19:24) does she know u took it?

(19:26) lol who's the fag

There were two ways I could have played that.

I'm gonna report u, you sick f**k— which was what I started to type, but then didn't. They'd block me right away and I'd have no proof. Besides, report to who? The school? All usernames were just random stuff, not actual names. And if I said that I just put two and two together, they'd ask me why was I part of the group, and who the hell would believe me that I was just randomly added?

I started freaking out. This is so f****d up and also a f*****g crime. s**t. Is she asleep or... unconscious? This creep has my number, which means he's not only part of the school but... then it clicked. That's how Ian got it— Biology.

This was someone I knew. Someone I'd worked with. I thought that saying nothing meant I could keep the chat, all the numbers, do some sort of search or something but then—

(19:30) dude you're not gonna say s**t are ya?

Die in a hole, you worthless piece of s**t.

(19:31) kick him out bro

I had to catch them, right? I had to catch them. It's people not doing anything when this happens that makes it happen.

(19:32) lol no

(19:32) nice huh?

(19:33) sure

That's when my stomach dropped— I had f****d up, I had f****d up. Who was gonna believe me now? My palms grew sweaty and when I didn't respond anymore, I got blocked.

I didn't get to break my phone only because Chloe walked in.

"Oliver, Mom says that she's coming after—"

I don't know what I looked like, but it scared her a lot.

"...dude, are you okay?"

I couldn't talk.

She frowned and her face went pale before she moved closer to me, and I immediately shut off my screen. After that I froze, too— it was another guilty act. I couldn't even scream at her because my brain wouldn't shut up, it was screaming at me instead.

You should go to the cops in case something worse went on. You could message her, but why would she believe you out of all people?

"Who... were you talking to?"

Why would Chloe believe you? You're a guy, too.

But then I thought: Why wouldn't she? And I thought about how I would absolutely lose my s**t if I was ever accused of something like that by her— she knows me since I've been born. But then again, isn't sick f***s like these existing that'd give her the right to doubt? You never know, do you? I know in person at least one of these creeps.

I wanted to throw her out but the words still wouldn't come, and I got right off my desk with such force it fell on its side and I probably looked like a psycho while doing it.

"Oliver, what happened?"

My face must have been on fire— my head definitely was.

"I got a message," I managed.

"From who?"

"I don't know." I couldn't show her because I'd been so f*****g stupid to reply and the wires in my brain were tied up so tightly, there was no way I could put a coherent sentence together. So tightly that the circuits were f*****g each other up. And I felt it— the smoke, rising. My teeth squeezing against each other, my breath thickening until I felt shoulders rising and falling.

It'd been years since it happened last.

I knew what to do, but I didn't remember.

And her voice was so... distant.

"Dude, what's wrong?"

She reached for my phone and read it. She read it all and her hand flew to her mouth. My knuckles were turning white, my fingernails on the verge of making my palms bleed.

"Did you just get this?"

I threw the chair next and screamed so loudly it burned my throat.

"Hey, hey!"

Stupid. Stupid. f*****g stupid.

"It's okay," she said before I could start tearing off my hair, and it wasn't but it's good to hear it when it feels like you will die, you know?

"I wasn't—"

"I know," she said, and what I don't know is how she knew to touch me in a way that didn't make me fling her across the room. I was trying with all my might not to do it, but I was convinced that my body would stop listening and... how would I come back from that?

I wouldn't, that's how.

Just like I can't come back from all the s**t I did to Ian when we were little— I have to live with that. And then f*****g off on top of it, too. But that's probably in my genes, huh?

"Do you know these people?" her voice was gentle as she reached for my water bottle and handed it for me to drink.

I did, trying to picture the cool liquid spreading through my hot veins. "I... I p-probably do, I don't know." She nodded and I drank some more. "I know her."

"Okay." She stroked my arm, up and down, and then brought her wet palm to my nape. That really helped. "Breathe. In... Out..."

In... Out...

"In one, two, three...."

One, two, three...

"Hold for one, two, three, four..."

One, two, three, four...

"Release in six... Good."

I didn't realize that I'd started sobbing until I felt her holding me.

I was mumbling. "I-I-I don't know what to do."

"We'll tell her," she said.

My heart jumped again. "They're gonna—"

"I mean, I'll tell her. She needs to know, okay?"

If the weight that was on my shoulders hadn't been metaphorical, the moment she lifted it, they would have pulverized.

"Okay," I murmured, but I kept on crying like a f*****g child.

"Shh..."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"You didn't do anything."

"I'm sorry," I repeated because that wasn't why.

It'd been so long since I hugged her back it felt like the first time. She held my palm over her mouth and her voice sounded like that red candy dish that tipped and crashed when we were kids, the one we pretended not having seen until this day.

"Me too."

This December by Ricky Montgomery

(18:00) hey Jack

(18:00) I don't know if I'll be coming tonight

(18:10) everything okay?

(18:11) yeah

(18:12) just not in the mood

(18:15) gotcha ??

(18:15) if you wanna drop by later it's cool

(18:15) just let me know

(18:20) thanks

I finish cleaning my room and I'm about to shut off my phone, so I can finally start learning about perspective when it buzzes again.

(18:20) hey! ?

Huh.

(18:23) you're not coming? ?

(18:25) don't think so

(18:25) chicken ?

I scoff.

(18:26) me roundhounding your ass last time wasn't enough?

(18:27) tch

(18:27) guest's luck

(18:27) come on! you're the only worthy opponent ?

I snicker a little. That's such bullshit and also not.

(18:28) next time

(18:29) okay ?

(18:30) we'll miss you

Chloe's knocking on my door.

"Oliver?"

"Yeah? Come in."

"Are you leaving yet?" she asks, pushing the door open with her elbow while adjusting her ponytail. She's all dressed up.

"Nah, I think I'm staying in," I tell her. "Where are you going?"

"None of your business," she replies with a smile on her face. I smile back— fair enough. "What do you mean, though? Isn't it game night?"

"Yeah, but..." I shrug. Should I ask? Yeah. "Did you talk to her?"

"Yup."

Oh. "And?"

"She's okay, nothing worse went on." Okay, I can breathe again. "She's pretty freaked out, obviously... But we're going to talk to the school," she adds and I nod slowly. "Just go, though, try to distract yourself. Locking yourself up won't help."

On one hand— not true, locking up has solved lots of my problems, like avoiding the things I didn't want to do pretty damn successfully. But... yeah, it's not like I don't like it there.

"Come on, I'll drive you," she announces, almost having made the decision for me. I don't mind it this time.

"Okay."

"We're leaving in five!"

I turn back to my phone.

(18:43) I'm going

(18:45) ?

I both frown and chuckle a bit— he's so dramatic.

(18:46) yay! ?

(18:46) I'll wait for you

(18:46) *we'll

(18:47) same thing ?

Is it? You didn't talk to me all week and I can't even blame you. Why would you trust me this time?

(18:48) see u soon