Chapter 35: A Picture

                                    

                                          
Chapter 35
                          
A Picture
                          


                          
My mom opened the front door to the high school for me. "I'm going to the office to excuse you for missing class. Go get your homework, and I'll meet you at Mr. Phillip's room."
                          
I nodded and wandered off through the hallways. My energy for the day was gone. I just wanted to go home and sleep. Opening my locker, I grabbed my bookbag and started filling it with the books I needed and taking some stuff out that I didn't. I zipped it up and swung my locker closed. Fitting my arms through the straps, I walked toward the math room. My mom still wasn't there when I arrived. I leaned against the wall to wait for her.
                          
The bell rang. I took out my phone and checked the time. One more class until the day was over. Mine was done, though. If I could have it my way, I'd never wanted to go back to school again. Homeschooling sounded great.
                          
Doors opened, and everyone spilled into the hall. I was receiving far more attention than what I was used to, or maybe, I was just paranoid after the incident at lunch. Bowing my head, I wished my mom would hurry up, so we could go home.
                          
"Aden, there you are."
                          
My eyes snapped up as Chris walked toward me with his group of buddies right behind him. Katy was giggling with her friends nearby. They kept peeking over at me.
                          
I didn't reply and looked away.
                          
"So you made it back. That was quite a walk."
                          
"Go away, Chris," I muttered.
                          
He looked me up and down. "Oh I see, you called your mom to come and saved you."
                          
"Go away, Chris," I stated firmly.
                          
"Fine, fine, I get it." He turned to leave, but stopped. "Oh, heads up someone emailed this picture of you around."
                          
My breath caught, and I froze.
                          
"No idea who it could have been, but I thought you should know." He took out his phone and started messing with it. "It's a pretty good picture. High quality. You can tell that it's you right away."
                          
He turned the screen to me, and my stomach dropped. I could clearly be seen sitting with Titus, my arms wrapped around his neck as we kissed.
                          
"Disgusting right?" said Chris lowly. "Too bad, it's being passed around the school."
                          
My eyes met his. "Why are you doing this?"
                          
"What do you mean, Aden? Anyone could have sent it." He smiled at me. "The caption pretty good too." He scrolled down and showed me. 'Fags,' was typed in bold letters.
                          
"With that Titus guy too. Man, you really do have low taste in men."
                          
It happened before I realize what I was doing. My fist connected with Chris's face, sending him stumbling back into the hall.
                          
"Aden!" gasped my mother, standing feet from us. She covered her mouth.
                          
Chris had blood dripping through his fingers. Katy was screaming for someone to get a teacher, playing the dramatic girlfriend role. They were all fake. Everyone here was fake, and I wanted nothing to do with any of them.
                          
My mother grabbed my hand as the vice principal arrived to see to Chris. She pulled me through the hall. News of what I had done was traveling quickly through the halls. Groups of people were running off to see the great Chris Harper with a bloody nose, given to him by the gay kid. I didn't care though. I'd hit him again if given the chance.
                          
She led me outside and straight to the car. We climbed into the vehicle, and she quickly backed out. The way home was silent. I glanced at my hand to see that two of my knuckles were bleeding. I had punched him harder than I thought.
                          
"Why would you do that, Aden," my mom whispered. "You can't just hit people. I know what Chris did was wrong."
                          
I sank into my seat. "He sent around a picture of me and Titus kissing," I muttered. "He called me a fag," I shrugged. "I just reacted."
                          
She took in a steadying breath. "I take it back." Glancing at me, she smiled. "You're still grounded though. Fighting in school is still fighting, even if they deserved it."
                          
"Yes, ma'am," I sighed.
                          
"How bad is your hand?"
                          
I examined it for a moment. "It'll be fine."
                          
My mom pulled into the garage, and we headed inside.
                          
"I'll get out the first aid kit." She hurried off to her room.
                          
I went to the sink and rinsed it off.
                          
My mom returned. "Let me see." She grabbed my wrist. "Your father is going to be furious." She took some peroxide and dumped it over the cut.
                          
I jerked my hand back. That stuff burned like hell.
                          
"Mom, it's fine," I snapped, quickly washing the stuff off.
                          
"This is what happens when you hit people." She eyed me and started binding the cuts.
                          
I could tell she was starting to get upset. "Sorry," I said softly. "Schools is hard enough, and now this. I shouldn't have done it."
                          
She reached up and cupped my cheek. Tears were forming in her eyes.
                          
"Mom, don't, please," I begged. "I'm exaggerating. I'm sorry. It'll be fine." I hugged her tightly.
                          
"If anything happens, promise you'll say something."
                          
I tightened my hold on her. "I promise."
                          


                          
***
                          


                          
I couldn't sink any lower into the couch as my father paced the floor. My mother was sitting with Demon in a chair by the fireplace.
                          
"It's a two day suspension, Quint. It'll be better, anyways, for Aden. He can start fresh next week after all of this had died down."
                          
"He hit someone, Karen," he stated firmly. "He bloodied Chris Harper's nose." My dad looked at me confused. "He's your best friend, Aden. What happened to make you want to break his nose?"
                          
"Was," I said softly.
                          
"What?" said my father firmly.
                          
"Was," I said louder. "Ever since the Titus thing, we haven't been talking."
                          
Rubbing his forehead, he stared at his wife. "That boy." He took a deep breath. "I should have just let you sit in your room all summer. Making you do that job has caused nothing but one problem after problem."
                          
I folded my arms and stared out the window. "He called me a fag."
                          
My father's expression softened. "He called you what?"
                          
I shifted in my seat and kept my eyes pointed at the window. "Chris said I was disgusting. He kept saying I was a fag, and it just happened. I'm sorry."
                          
"How did he find out?" My dad looked between my mother and me.
                          
My mother stood and placed the dog on the floor. "Quint can we talk to the other room."
                          
He head snapped in my direction. "Aden?" he said firmly.
                          
"Quint," she pulled on his arm. "Please, come into the kitchen. He's had a bad enough day."
                          
My father nodded. "Aden, go upstairs. We will talk later about this."
                          
"Yes, sir," I whispered.
                          
I slowly pushed myself out of the dent in the couch and trudged upstairs. Going to my room, I laid down on my bed and pulled a pillow over my face. Everything was going wrong for me today.
                          
My phone buzzed, signaling a text. I took it out of my pocket. My eyes grew wide at the grotestic message. Another one came in, and then another. I turned my phone off and tossed my phone to the bottom of the bed. Curling into a ball, I closed my eyes. I didn't understand why he was doing this to me. I just wanted to be left alone.