Twenty

The whole night, I toss and turn. I would consider myself to be the quiet type who stays out of the line of fire. So why would anyone target me? And how would they know?

The more I thought about it, the more sick to my stomach I felt. If I knew that I'd be safe from bullying, I'd have come out right away. But I know for a fact that the few other LGBT students at my school have been targeted, and very mercilessly at that.

I realize something. The only way anyone would have known about me being gay is if one of my friends passed it along.

My heart sinks. Did Sammy tell Patrick?

I sit up in bed, panicking. If Patrick knows and is targeting me, who can say how many other people know?

Sorry, but I can't take this lying down.

As soon as I enter the school, I make haste and try to find where the guys on the swim team usually hang out before class. From what I remember, they usually plant themselves in the locker bay near the history classrooms upstairs. As fast as I can, without running into passersby or making teachers concerned, I make my way up to that spot.

As I expected, Sammy and Patrick were there. The others hadn't made it quite yet, which is probably for the best.

Sammy notices me, as well as the grimace on my face.

"Hey now, what are you doing, Dylan?" she asks, clearly worried.

"Sammy, I know you're still mad at me, but did you really have to tell Patrick? And have him come for me?" I ask her, somewhat enraged.

"Tell me what?" Patrick asks, confused.

"Are you serious? Do you really think that little of me?" Sammy asks, starting to cry in anger.

I back away a little, my heart dropping. "It wasn't Patrick?"

"What wasn't Patrick? What the hell are you even talking about, man? What's with you?" she challenges me.

"Someone put sticky notes on my bag that said 'fag' yesterday. You two walked past to get snacks," I explain.

Sammy looks around. Then, she slaps me across the face.

"You're a dick. I can't believe you'd accuse me," she says, fuming. She starts walking down the hallway, Patrick following. He looks a bit confused still.

I touch my face, my cheek stinging. I walk away feeling worse than before.

***

"She did what?" Jade asks, completely baffled.

"She smacked me."

"Are you okay?" Marie asks, looking concerned. Austin sits next to me, trying to comfort me without physically touching me.

"I'm fine. I just feel like shit on the inside," I sigh.

"Okay, but she shouldn't have slapped you," Jade says, defending me.

I shake my head. "I was wrong to accuse her like that. I had it coming."

We all sit silently for a moment.

"So if it wasn't Patrick, who was it?" Austin wonders.

I notice that Marie's eyes are wandering elsewhere. I take a look in the same direction. We see a group of guys crowding in the corner, laughing.

"What is Josh doing over there?" she wonders. She gets up and walks over.

We all watch from afar. Tristan walks over, lunch tray in hand.

"What are you guys doing?" he asks. Austin shushes him. He looks in the direction as well.

We can't hear what's going on, but we notice that Marie starts raging. She yells loud enough that we hear a little bit.

"Are you serious? We're done, asshole!"

She marches back over here, the click of her high-heeled boots echoing throughout the whole loud cafeteria. She even sits down angrily.

"What was that?" Jade asks.

Marie glares at the table. "It was Josh and his dumbass friends."

"What?" Tristan chimes in.

"Josh put those sticky notes on your bag, Dylan," she says, putting her head in her hands. I glance at Austin, feeling my heart get faster by the second. He looks at Marie, wide-eyed.

"Woah, woah, woah. What are you guys even talking about? Can someone update me?" Tristan asks, getting frustrated.

"Josh and those brick-heads put sticky notes on Dylan's backpack that said 'fag' yesterday," Austin explains, trying to stay calm.

Tristan grimaces. "If you told me that, I'd have beaten their asses already."

"Don't beat any asses. Do you really want to provoke them more?" Jade says. Tristan glares down at the ground.

Marie lifts her head from her hands, her face a teary, snotty, mascara filled mess.

"Dylan, I'm so sorry," she cries. She walks over to me and hugs me from behind.

"Marie, it's not your fault. Don't be sorry," I tell her.

She sniffs and walks back around. She plops back in her seat.

Tristan, sitting to her left, looks as though he wants to comfort her, but seems to be too unsure to do so.

"Did Josh say why he did that?" Austin asks, still trying to process everything.

Marie wipes her eyes. "They all laughed like it was one big joke. They must have known Josh could've gotten close enough to you to do it. Plus, he was the one who told them you were gay," she explains.

I just sit there, feeling so defeated.

"They think this is a joke? Are you kidding me?" I run my hand through my hair, feeling anxious as all hell.

"That team is toxic, Dylan. I've felt it first-hand," Tristan sighs.

"I feel so powerless," I whisper, tears spiking in my eyes. Austin looks at me sympathetically. I can tell he wants to comfort me really badly.

Jade reaches her hand over to me across the table and holds my left hand. Marie does the same with my right hand.

"We're here for you, Dylan. You too, Austin. If anyone tries anything else, we'll fight for you," Jade asserts.

Tristan nods. "I'll kick them into next week."

I smile lightly, holding on tight to Jade and Marie, like they're my lifelines.

In the very least, I won't have to fight this alone.