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english class gone wrong
Haylen shuffled quietly into the English classroom, still a bit shaken up from his outburst back in his dorm room. He was greeted with a glare from his classmates and teacher, and gladly returned the favor, his eyes flashing with pure hatred.
I cannot stand school.
Why am I here. Why am I here. Why am I here.
I'd almost rather be dead. But not quite.
"Why, hello, happy children," Haylen grumbled as he plopped down in a seat between two preppy girls, each one of them texting away beneath their desks and exchanging disgusted looks.
Nothing different than my usual greetings. Horrified looks and eye-rolls.
Haylen could barely even bring himself to listen to a single word that the teacher was mumbling; something about prepositional phrases and then some weird poem shit.
Didn't we learn about this in like, eighth grade?
Ah, screw my life.
"Some of the most common prepositions include about above, according to, across, after, against, along, along with, among, apart from, around, as..."
The teacher droned on, and Haylen slumped onto the top of his desk.
Seriously? An unbearably slow voice AND a-b-c order? You've got to be kidding me.
As though things could get worse.
Haylen's mind began to wander, straying into the darker corners of his thoughts. Images of his mother and her male counterpart flashed behind his eyelids, and he shuddered. The two of them were possibly his least favorite people to ever walk the earth.
Apart from Simon, maybe.
No.
I don't actually. Hate. Him.
Yes I do.
No I don't.
Oh hello, schizophrenia.
"Mr...." The teacher looked down at a sheet of paper that he grasped in his pasty hand - it was more than likely a name chart, "Mr. Vega, please give me an example of a prepositional phrase."
No. You're joking, right?
Oh my friggin' god.
Clearing his throat, Haylen scrambled for words, a blush rising in his cheeks. "The boy brushed against the other boy."
He smirked a little at the expression of the poor schoolmaster, not failing to notice how horrified the man looked. The mumbles from around the classroom weren't too subtle, either.
"Yes, you heard me."
The teacher shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks burning red. "Uhm, well, okay. Class. 'The boy' is the subject of the sentence, 'against' is the preposition, and, erhm, 'the other boy' is the object of the preposition and the receiver of the action. Uhm, good, Mr. Vega. Thank you."
Haylen furrowed his eyebrows. "It's Haylen," he coughed, slouching back in his seat and assuming that he wouldn't be asked to give any more examples any time soon.
Mm, mother dearest would be so proud.
Not good, not good!
Sy power walked down the hall, stalking the needles of his watch as if it would actually slow time or something. Reality was, he was officially late, pretty late. He reached the door of the room, a thin layer of moisture beginning to form around his neckline from the effort and partial anxiety attack. He took a deep breath, calming before carefully turning the handle without a noise, the teacher's voice resounding in his ears.
The teacher is looking the other way...good!
He carefully closed the door behind him and quickly scanned the room, finding an empty front row seat, the girl behind it beckoning him to hurry, which he gladly did, smiling gratefully to the brunette. Apparently he was making good impression, he just hoped she wouldn't flirt, he wasn't sure how to handle this now, he usually just would flirt back...but that would be leading her on, no?
When the teacher looked his way he smiled, pretending not to notice the man's double take, surely wondering if he had seen Simon before. It was the advantage of having an elder teacher, they could always blame memory flaws. So the course simply went on.
"Mr. Vega, please give me an example of a prepositional phrase."
No.
Simon felt like it all went slow motion as he imitated the rest of the class and turned to see the boy in the back raise his head from the comfort of his desk to ponder the answer options.
I can't believe he's in my class too.
That we're even in the same year.
He wanted to apologize just, not here. It wasn't the appropriate time or place, and frankly, he would have preferred a break from him at the moment.
"The boy brushed against the other boy."
It was a forehead slapper, but Sy resisted with all the will he could gather. At this rate, he was foreseeing a break down by mid-semester.
Why, oh why the self mutilation.
He just nodded when all the others either snickered or began to gossip in outrage. The brunette behind him caught his attention before he could look to the front.
"I don't care if he's gay, but acting like that is just making the whole gay crowd look like a bunch of emo-queens." she scoffed.
All Sy managed as a response a bit of a nervous laugh before returning his attention to the teacher, almost begging for the boring lecture to invade the classroom once again. His wish was realized and things became silent again, but it didn't last very long, the elderly man putting away his lecture papers and notes before giving out some instructions.
"Alright class, it's time for a little exercise to close in today's class. Find yourself a partner and together, write a small text of three paragraphs, making use of the prepositions we've reviewed today and hand them in at the front before the bell."
The teacher sat behind his desk, scribbling somethings only teachers knew of. Sy quickly turned to the brunette only to find her caught in discussion with a blond girl, apparently already paired up. With a sigh he turned to his right, finding two guys chatting. Hopefully, he twisted to his left and saw another pair of girls, apologizing with puppy eyes, to which he nodded, signing it was "ok"...which it wasn't. A little panicked, he looked around and saw exactly what he feared, the only person left, was Haylen.
Groaning, he left his seat and marched to him like it was a funeral march, receiving charitable glances from those who understood who he was paired with. Avoiding to meet his eyes, a blush to his cheek, he sat across Haylen, butterflies ravaging his stomach.
"Look, I'm sorry about earlier. Let's just get this done and over with okay?"
For once in his life, Haylen found himself truly disappointed upon seeing an attractive boy enter the room.
Mostly because that very boy just so happened to be Simon.
Everything was a blur until Haylen heard the teacher assigning something, followed by a mumbled, "Look, I'm sorry about earlier. Let's just get this done and over with okay?" from Simon.
Oh.
I see how it is now.
With a manical laugh, Haylen stood from his seat, pointing at Simon and grinning like a jester. "You... I can't friggin' believe you! Do you honestly think that such a small apology will make up for everything you've done?"
At this point, a few of their classmates were staring at the two boys, including the preppy chicks and the sassy brunette. Haylen felt himself shrink inward, his spine curling a bit. He didn't like attention. He didn't like people. He didn't like school.
Just ignore them.
Ignore it all.
Ignore everything and everyone other than Simon.
"Listen, okay? I don't know when you're ever gonna actually get it, Sy, but my forgiveness doesn't come from a candy dispenser. You can't offer a pathetic little apology and expect me to act like nothing happened!" Haylen raised his voice, causing it to lose its velvet tone and become raspy. He bit at his liprings, trying to ignore Mr. Teacher-whatever from the corner of his eye.
"Gentlemen? What seems to be the problem?"
Haylen scoffed.
"Gentlemen? Gentlemen!? You honestly think that you can call him - us - gentlemen? Sir, I don't think you're aware of what has been going on these past few days." Haylen clenched his jaw, his eyes glittering with hatred and madness. He really wanted to be able to look away from Simon, but a peculiar look in the other boy's eyes was keeping Haylen's gaze locked on the redhead's face.
The teacher shrugged, looking clueless. "Care to inform me?"
"Certainly," Haylen continued with a wicked grin. He clutched Simon's shirtsleeve and yanked him forwards, only satisfied when their body heat was mixing and they were about half a foot apart. He looked up at the taller boy with anger biting at his throat. "I'd love to."
Stop, stop stop stop-
No, why the hell would I stop?
With a suggestive buck of his hips, Haylen craned his neck and bit viciously at Simon's bottom lip, smiling all the while. "First, we did something like this-"
Is that... blood... I taste?
Mm.
I can make him bleed without even hitting him.
Haylen could sense that his opponent was extremely agitated with the current situation, which only fueled him further. He gripped at Simon's wrist and yanked him closer, their bodies clacking awkwardly together as Haylen stumbled backwards into a desk. "Then something like this... and..."
It wasn't difficult to feel the tension in the air, and Haylen easily brought himself to a stop. "You see, previous to his arrival at this lovely boarding school, Simon wasn't aware of his... attraction to boys," he spat, the words like ink on his tongue. "And I had to teach him a little lesson, but he didn't take it too lightly."
With reason, I suppose.
But maybe he'll get the message now.
"So yeah, everyone! This pretty kid right here - guess what? He sleeps with other guys. And you know what else? He loves it."
Oh, Haylen Vega, you've done yourself in this time.
Those jolts of shock were seriously becoming tiresome with this kid. Seriously, was he bipolar and off his meds? He'd have to look when he'd get back home. He sent Haylen a side glare to hint that this was not he place or time for an argument. He never wanted to have anyone mixted his private affairs and arguments or any nature were something to be had behind closed doors, nowhere else.
But the boy didn't stop, appearing rather determined to make a bit of a public scene with this, and Sy was starting to feel rather helpless, gritting a low "shut up!" from between clenched teeth. The whole thing even got the teacher to turn attention to them, and a blush of embarrassement to his cheek, Simon just nodded and shrugged, hands in the air to the teacher, hoping the man would help him...no, begging in his eyes for it.
It apparently didn't help, and never did Simon expect Haylen to do what he did, the surprise too much to allow any earilier movement than thus of becoming wide eyed with a hand to his lips to stop the pain from the lightly pouring blood.
You better stop this right now.
But apparently Haylen wasn't very keen on reading body language, for every part of Simon's body screamed "Attack!", and when he was jerked closer again, everything turned red and hazy. He was furius, enraged, and unable to react right away. Everything built up until he saw just one second of Haylen being still. The next second, with the taste of iron still strong in his mouth, he quickly brought a firm grip to the back of Haylen's neck and swung farward as hard as he could, smashing his face to the desk, a loud crack resonating as Haylen's nose broke, echoing with the many gasps from some of the classmates.
"You're a liar, a freak, and and and, you're crazy! You are friggin' crazy!" he yelled at the very top of his lungs, pointing vicously at Haylen, tears quickly gathering to his eyes.
The teacher, far beyond the point of discomfort didn't seem to know where to give attention to, and most students had now formed a circus circle around the "spectacle".
"Gentlemen, please, stop now or you'll be expelled."
Simon just nodded, fury leaving as he saw Haylen's very bloody and dizzy face unmerge from the wooden surface. He couldn't even feel bad about it this time, too numb from this level of embarasment. With a rasp voice he addressed the teacher a little "Sorry." before making his way out of the class at a rather impressive speed, rushing to the boy's bathroom and hoping to make it there before tears would freely begin to fall.
Everything happened in a blur - Simon had grabbed at the back of Haylen's neck, fingernails digging into fragile skin, and the next thing he knew, his vision was hazed by a curtain of red, and pain was pulsing through his skull. Spews of 'liar' and 'freak' and 'crazy' sifted fuzzily into his rattled brain, and the only sensation-
What the-
Shit.
Shit, hahaaaaaaah holy mother of god-
Haylen swerved in just enough time to see Simon darting through the doorway. He choked on metallic liquid as it slicked down his throat, pouring freely from his nose and spilling ruby onto his shirt.
And as much of a mess that he was, no one did anything to go about helping him. The teacher stood there stupidly, looking puzzled, and the rest of the students stared in a mix of disgust and awe.
Mmn, everything hurts so friggin' much-
There is no way my nose isn't broken-
Mmnhh, awh god...
With his face twisted in a mix of masochistic pleasure and pain, Haylen's chest heaved, and he lunged forward, gripping the edge of the blood-slicked desk that his face had been smashed against. "Hahaaa... hahahaaha," he laughed, wiping at his sore nose with his wrist. "Siiiiiiiii-monnnn! Where are you going!"
Though the other boy was clearly good and gone, Haylen called out for him, giggling manically as a searing pain rushed through his temples and down his neck. "Don't... d-don't you run away from me," he gurgled, beginning to feel increasingly loopy and nauseous. "Come ba-aaaack! I wanna play!"
With his hands cupped beneath his nostrils and warm crimson leaking through his spidery fingers, Haylen keeled over, coughing up blood from his raw throat. It spattered onto the tile floor of the classroom with a sickly sound, and Haylen heard a girl squeal in horror.
"Get him to the damn nurse! Oh my god, this is so gross! He's gonna like, die or something!"
Die?
Please.
This is mild compared to what I'm used to.
With his mind grasping onto the last few strings of consciousness, Haylen thought back on his horrible experiences with Matt, his mother's oh-so-sweet boyfriend back home.
Crrkkk-kch!
"What a beautiful sound... that of bones breaking," the older man scoffed, glaring down at Haylen with icy blue eyes. He was an intimidating man; dark hair shaved close to his head, a tired mouth, and three jagged scars upon his tan leather cheek. Tattoos spiraled up his bicep, and his neck bulged with muscle. Haylen had always thought he looked like something right out of a modern war movie - such a strange match for his self-acclaimed 'right-wing conservative' mother.
"Oh yes... gorgeous, isn't it?" Haylen agreed sarcastically, using up the last bits of will and anger that he had left in him. He cringed in discomfort, holding his newly-injured side - that was probably another sprained rib to add to the collection - and bit furiously at his lip, trying to hold in his tears of pain.
"Mhm." Matt kicked Haylen to the ground.
"Stop, c'mon-"
There was a husky laugh coming from the thirty-somethings' lips. "You know," the man said gruffly, crouching down to level himself with Haylen, "you... you deserve every one of the bruises that I leave on you. Just think of every pretty purple splotch as one more reminder of how much your beautiful mother and I don't deserve something like you."
The tears were burning; burning, but not falling-
"D-Don't hit me again, please, Matt, m'sorry..."
"That's damn right, you'd better apologize. You'd better apologize for being here. Because you know what, Haylen? You're not wanted. You'd be better off in jail with your real daddy. Don't you miss him?"
There they were. Hot, wet, salty tears, spilling down Haylen's cheeks. "I hate you," he whispered through gritted teeth, mentally preparing himself for another harsh blow, possibly to the jaw or chest this time.
He wasn't left hanging.
Just before Haylen pushed away the god-awful memories, he found himself crashing to the floor to be carried unconsciously to the Nurse's Office.
