Eyes On Mine

Goodnight

Cyrus First Person Point Of View

“I. I took a walk," I stammered, barely capable of looking at her.

"I'm just stressed about tomorrow at school."

She dry-laughed, sending a shiver down my spine at the sound. "A walk, eh? What are you so patiently waiting for, Cyrus? The day that someone hurts you at night?"

I had intended to talk but shut up instead. There was nothing that could be said to repair this situation.

"WALKS are done in the AFTERNOON," she went on, speaking in tones of astonishment.

I remained silent, looking down at the floor with my eyes, burying my face in the blankets, hoping that she would drop it. I just wanted her to drop it.

For an instant, the silence lay there, thick and awkward, between us. But then she snorted and turned on her heel. The door softly shut behind her.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my chest tight with everything that had happened.

Tomorrow was going to be a rough day.

But for now, I just needed to sleep.

My alarm blared loudly across the room, startling me awake. I struggled to grab the telephone and groaned.

Late.

I tossed aside the bedclothes and rushed to dress quickly, After a brisk, chilly run to the face, I took the clothes off and hopped in the shower.

After the swift purging I snuck to the bedroom, grabbing whatever was nearest in the way of clothing: a button-down shirt and jeans.

Not even time for breakfast-just time to catch the bus.

I grabbed my backpack, shoved my phone in my pocket, and ran out the door, the soles of my sneakers slapping the pavement.

The bus stopped abruptly just as I approached the stop.

I rushed in, seeking Arzhel who'd kept a seat at the back for me. He greeted me with a smile as I sat down, hugging me for a moment.

"Thought you'd sleep the first day away, babes," he joked, slinging his arm across the seat.

"Almost did," I growled, trying to catch my breath.

As we pulled up to the school, I felt like stepping onto the set of some cheesy high school film.

The cheerleaders stood at the front, laughing loudly and obnoxiously, and the rabblerousers-loitered throughout the parking area, smoking and exchanging worthless taunts.

The jocks, Parker among them, were tossing a football around on the grass.

"I always feel awkward here," I admitted, looking around at everyone so tidily in their little boxes.

We are not actually in any of these groups.

Arzhel rolled his eyes at me, giving me a friendly nudge.

We are nobody's property. We'll form our own party from the ground up, I promise.

He sneered, gazing across the cliques with the airs of being above them.

“Other than that, I'm not like other flashy gays, you see? I'm different.”

Shaking my head, I frowned at him. "Arzhel, that is very….You cannot talk about them like that."

He rolled his eyes again, shaking his head.

Whatever.

The day began on the wrong foot with the very first lesson: we arrived late, of course.

When we entered, the teacher looked at us disapprovingly.

"Nice of you to join us at last," he added, with dripping sarcasm in his voice.

Arzhel did not blink an eyelid.

"Yeah, and so are we," he shot back, grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me from the class before I could protest.

I had always been a perfect attendance student. My gut was churning with nervousness as we made our way around to the back of the bleachers.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, speaking in a trembling voice.

"Relax," Arzhel advised, pulling out his vape and drawing long, deep puffs.

It is only a single class. Don't die.

He also tried to offer the vape to me but I declined.

I'm fine.

We remained standing there for a moment, the distant noises of the school softly echoing, before I could hear voices.

"OHHHHH, look who we have here," said the voice.