Message from a bully

It started as a single chuckle, then a few more, as I continued walking through the hallway, exiting the science complex. Soon everyone was laughing. When I turned, they really were laughing at me—their eyes fixed on me, laughing so hard that some of their faces turned pink. I didn’t know why they were laughing. All I knew was that I was the center of an inside joke.

Then I saw Henry running, pushing through the crowd, coming to—apparently—rescue me, because I was just standing there like an idiot.

He pulled a paper that had been glued to my back. It read “Faggot.”

A guy from the crowd said, “I mean, did we need a placard to tell us that?” Then they all laughed again. It sounded like the background noise of a comedy movie.

I wasn’t sure I cared that much. I pretty much felt shitty all the time—you simply can’t sink a sunken ship, right?

“Thank you,” I said to Henry with a smile.

“You good?” he asked, with a suppressed scoff.

“Yeah, I’ll be… just fine.”

“Oh, is that his boyfriend?” another guy taunted.

I heard Henry suck his teeth. It translated to: Oh, I’m gonna kill that guy.

“Get a room,” the same guy said, and that staged laughter chorused again.

“Let’s go,” I whispered, hoping not to cause any further scene, because one of us was heavily brooding.

“Pervert,” the slur came out softer than a whisper, and that was the final straw. Henry jumped right on the guy, throwing blows and punches. The two of them got into a grueling fight, and everyone in the hall was yelling, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

I felt so guilty because they were beating the shit out of Henry. I needed to do something. I was just shouting, “Henry, stop!” even though it was drowned in the noise.

And then, in the midst of it all, they came.

*******************************************************

Okay, I’ll need you to imagine this in slow motion. The most popular, hottest, handsomest, and most feared guy in school walks in, and everywhere goes cemetery silent.

Riley Beaumont. The school’s hockey star player. Also, him and his friends are just exalted jackasses. I really don’t give a fuck about them much. But what was my opinion in the face of the entire school? They were apparently gods on earth.

“And what’s going on here?” Riley asked with a raised brow.

The students started to disperse one after the other, murmuring excuses. You wouldn’t want to be their new bully experiment.

They had slowly evaporated until it was just me, Henry, and the other blonde jerk.

“Explain,” Riley dropped. He was tall and looked like the devil, instilling fear in his subjects.

“I-I… it was just—he attacked me,” the other guy said, shaking like a fish out of water, pointing at Henry.

“Bastard, you were bullying my friend,” Henry spat.

“Bullying?” Riley’s friend asked. He always sounded like he had inhaled laughing gas and was trying to catch his breath.

Henry picked the paper up from the floor. “He called my friend a faggot.”

There was silence at first, and then they burst into laughter. All of them turned toward me. I grew stiff and didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I twisted them in front of me. I knew it didn’t help matters—how it made me look: blonde, blue eyes, and a pink bag on my back.

“Great observation,” Riley’s other friend laughed.

Although Riley wasn’t laughing initially, he eventually joined in.

They were no heroes, and they didn’t come to save the day. I knew that, but even so, it still hurt.

“Hey, kid—” He stepped closer to me. My head stayed turned down, looking at the floor that now seemed all too high, like it was close to my eyes.

“No one should be bullying you—” he said. Everywhere grew silent. “—except me.”

The punchline came, and they were laughing their guts out. Honestly, they always laughed like their lives depended on it when it was Riley. They were literally licking his boots, and it was fucking disgusting. The other guy who had been fighting Henry was laughing too.

Riley stopped and looked at him. “What are you still doing here?”

The guy grimaced, then vanished. Henry knew better than to fight them, and I was secretly praying in my heart that he wouldn’t. I didn’t want to attend a funeral.

Riley’s friends were laughing. “Man, you’re a fucking menace,” they said, like it was praise.

Riley patted my shoulder, and they walked away, back to hell where they came from.

“Boy, look at you. Why did you do that?” I was pissed at Henry. He simply couldn’t keep getting into trouble every time because of me. It was my life that was miserable, and I had accepted that fate—and was carrying it quite well.

But even so, I was so, so grateful to have a friend like Henry.

“What? You expect me to just watch them call you names?”

“Yes. Yes, Henry, that’s exactly what I want.”

“Over there,” he said, and pointed outside. I turned to follow his hand.

“If you look close enough, you’ll see I don’t give a fuck about your opinion.”

Jerk. I rolled my eyes, turning to face his bruised but smiling face.

“Let’s go fix that face,” I said, and dragged him out of the hallway. He made a hilarious screaming sound as I pulled him through to the clinic.

“I’m fine,” he said. Actually, he sang it in a baby-like voice. “Alfieeeeeeeee—”

“No, you’re not. I’m taking you to see the doctor. Now if you will, stop whining.”

*******************************************************

“What the fuck happened to your face?” Erica gasped.

We were at the table for lunch.

“Henry got into a fight because of me.”

“Well, you’re welcome?” he said, flaring his hands in the air.

“Not again. Alfie, I’m so sorry.” She touched my shoulder. “How are you?”

“What??? I’m the one who’s hurt.” Erica gave him a death stare.

“Well, it’s nothing. Thankfully, Henry came to save me.” I watched Henry beam.

“Yeah, it’s nothing. Like Superman—we just do it for the people.” He waved hysterically. I rolled my eyes and faced my dish.

“What in the name of Great Britain is going on here?” Henry shrieked. We had been served baked beans, toast, and a chicken that could as well have been raw.

“Yeah, I’m not eating that,” Erica said after she took a bite.

“Guys, it’s not that bad,” I encouraged them, taking a bite to show them. It stayed in my mouth while I gave them an approving smile with round cheeks.

“Sounds like what a British person would say.”

“I’m only 60 percent English heritage.”

“And I’m 100 percent Filipino. How about that? How about properly seasoned chicken, with curry and rosemary?” He closed his eyes and took in an invisible aroma.

“Can the two of you just stop!” Erica cringed. “I’m trying to capture the perfect angle for my vlog.” She kept adjusting her tripod and packing her braids in different styles. Henry and I both rolled our eyes.

“Shut up!” Erica held her breath, looking at her screen.

“What?” Henry and I leaned in.

“Oh my fucking god, Rihanna just reposted my makeup tutorial using Fenty Beauty!” she squealed.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” I exclaimed.

I picked up my phone to check on the video, and when I opened I*******m, I saw 9+ on my notification icon. I opened them. Someone had liked all my pictures—every single one of them. When I clicked on the profile, it was Riley Beaumont. And in my message requests, he had sent me “Hi.”