Falling For My Bully

Nicholas’ POV

Theo’s soft lips pressed against mine, his hand slipping gently around my waist, pulling me closer until our chests nearly fused. Every nerve in my body lit up. His breath mixed with mine. My heart was hammering so hard it felt like it might bruise my ribs. Then, suddenly, the kiss stopped.

“I need to talk to you about something important, babe,” Theo said, his voice soft but serious.

I blinked, trying to hold onto the moment. “Can’t it wait?” I whispered, leaning closer, trailing kisses down his neck—trying to bring him back to where we were minutes ago. To that warmth.

He pulled back, his fingers no longer holding me like they wanted to. “No… it can’t. Okay?”

I blinked, his tone cutting through the haze. “Fine,” I said, a little colder than I intended. “What’s up?”

Before he could speak, a sharp knock interrupted us. Panic shot through me.

Principal Kailey. Shit!

We scrambled to fix our clothes, wiping our faces, trying to look as innocent as two boys in a broom closet could.

She stood outside the door with her arms crossed and She raised an eyebrow, clearing her throat with a pointed “Hmm-hmm.” as we came out.

“Hi, Principal Kailey,” I said quickly, putting on my best smile. “Theo and I were just… counting the brooms and mops. For the janitor. Would you like to know the amount?”

Usually, Theo would crack a joke or at least smirk. But he didn’t. He stood there—quiet, unreadable, visibly worried.

“I didn’t ask and No” she said dryly. “Mr. Quinn, you can go. I need a word with Mr. Cooper.”

“By noon, your father will be here to pick you up,” she said. “Please be ready.”

I stared at her. “Is something wrong?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” she said, her tone unreadable.

The hallway was loud, but inside me, it was all quiet static. Eyes followed me, whispers floated behind me—none of it new. Being hot, popular, and openly gay came with its own kind of attention. Girls giggled, some waved. I didn’t bother acknowledging them. It always surprised me how they still swooned even when I’d made it clear I was gay; like they could change me. It was both flattering and annoying.

I met up with the guys near our lockers, but Theo wasn’t there. “Anyone seen Theo?” I asked. No one had.

The bell rang. I walked to class, distracted. My feet moved on their own, but my thoughts stayed behind—on Theo. On that look in his eyes. That distance. What was he trying to say?

Noon came fast.

My phone buzzed. A text from Dad: “Come out now. We need to leave. Don’t waste time.”

I sighed, something about the way he wrote it set off alarms in me. I packed my bag slowly, like dragging each movement would slow the moment down, grabbed my bag, and headed outside.

As I stepped outside, I heard him.

“Nicholas!”

I turned and saw Theo running toward me.

Relief bloomed into me. “There you are. Where’ve you been all day?”

“I’m sorry,” I told Theo. “I have to go. Text me, okay?”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, something heavy, but I was already running late. I gave him a quick kiss and ran toward the car.

Then I saw her. Sitting in the passenger sit. My mother.

My hands went cold. And suddenly the angry tone in Dad’s voice made sense.

She was back and I knew what for.

“Hi, baby,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. “How are you?”

I stared at her like she was a stranger. The disgust on my face said everything. I ignored her question.

“Mom, why are you here?” I asked sharply.

She glanced at Dad, then looked forward, trying to sound casual. “We just need to settle something in court, that’s all.”

I laughed—bitter, joyless. “Again? Mom, when does this stop?”

“This is for your good, baby—”

“Oh really?” Dad snapped from the driver’s seat. “Dragging him through this mess is for his good?”

And there it was. The familiar argument. The noise that never ended.

They yelled. Over each other. Around me. About me. Like I wasn’t there.

My parents separated when I was ten, and ever since then, my mom has been trying to get custody of Zack and I. She's back again, and I honestly don’t understand why she won’t just give up. I love living with my dad, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. He’s not perfect—far from it—but he’s a good man. My mom, however, refuses to see that, blinded by the bitterness of how their marriage ended.

Something fast.

A truck. Speeding.

Coming right toward us.

My heart seized. They didn’t see it—they were too busy fighting.

“MOM! DAD!” I screamed, tearing off the headphones.

Dad slammed the brakes—too late.

The car flipped. Once. Twice. My body tossed like a rag doll with every violent turn until we crashed to the ground.

The sound of metal grinding against metal filled my ears. My mother screamed. My father shouted something I couldn’t make out. My chest slammed against the seatbelt—pain sharp, disorienting.

And then—

Darkness.