Page 26 of Pieces of Me

Rylan sighed and rolled his eyes. “That’s such a fucking cliché I don’t even know what to say about it, Parker. No points for originality for you. And no, I wasn’t looking at anyone; I was washing the sweat and dirt from playing kickball off my body and wishing I had a bacon cheeseburger. Go away.”

He reared back when Parker snatched his sandwich from his hand and threw it to the floor before knocking Rylan’s bottle of water over all across his homework. Rylan leaped to his feet yelling, “What the fuck?”

“Fags don’t get to take a shower with me,” Parker hissed, and suddenly there were four other boys surrounding them. Rylan glanced at their faces and did his best not to let his fear show.

“He try something on you, man?” This belligerent question came from Steve Lassiter, the dude who hung around with Scott and Lisa.

“No, but I could feel him staring at me,” Parker replied, crossing his arms over his chest, smugness showing on his face now that his posse was here to fully back him up. “He stared at my junk and licked his lips.”

There was a chorus of disgust from the assembled boys, and Rylan gave an emphatic shake of his head. “I’d never look at you, dumb fuck. You ain’t got nothin’ I would want in a million years, believe me.”

A dull flush of rage spread over Parker’s face, and Rylan couldn’t help himself. He taunted, “Oh, does that piss you off now, the fact I didn’t look at you? Make up your mind what you want from me, and let me know, ‘kay? I’m here to please.”

He tried to sit back down at his table, but Steve reached out and grabbed the front of his T-shirt, twisting it in his fist. He leaned down into Rylan’s face and growled, “You little fairy. You make us all sick, prancing around like you own the place.”

“What? I never prance,” Rylan rejoined with a laugh, hoping like hell he hid how he was quaking inside. “Although I am more than fabulous. How about you leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone? No tiny-junk looking, I promise.”

Steve tightened his grip and shook him, hard. “Filthy cocksucker!”

Rylan smirked. “Oh, yeah. When I suck cock, I do make it fillllthy.” He traced his lips with the tip of his tongue in an exaggerated, lewd motion, not knowing exactly why he was egging on these bullies. Maybe he had a serious death wish finally making itself known, but whatever it was, he couldn’t seem to shut up. “Wanna try me? I promise it’ll be the best blow job you ever had.” He shrugged as best he could with Steve’s fist still twisted in his shirt. “Well, the only blow job you’ve ever had; am I right? I warn you, though, it’ll be a tough act to follow―”

“Shut the hell up, you piece of shit,” Steve snarled, raising his fist. Rylan closed his eyes and was waiting for the blow when an unmistakable drawl came from behind them.

“Touch him, Lassiter, and I promise you’ll fuckin’ regret it.”

Rylan cracked one eye open and saw Scott approaching from out of the corner of it.

“Let him go, Steve. Now.”

Steve widened his eyes, an incredulous look in them. “You’re gonna defend this little faggot, Scotty?”

Scott had his hands crammed in his pockets, his body language relaxed. “Why wouldn’t I?” he answered, his voice laconic. “He’s family, and so he’s worth defendin’.”

Steve barked a laugh. “Lucky you. Adding a homo to the list.”

He let go of Rylan and backed up when Scott advanced on him suddenly, saying, “List of what, Steve?”

“Aww, forget it, man.” Steve held his hands up. “Didn’t mean nothin’.”

“You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. List of what?”

Rylan held his breath as they glared at each other, and Steve peered around at the circle of faces and seemed to gather his courage. “The trash you have to live with,” he said with a note of bravado. “Everybody knows you have a drunken slut for a mom, and now you get to add fairy to the list of losers you have to defend.” He took a step closer to Scott. “So. Lucky. Lucky. You.”

Rylan flinched, waiting for the explosion, but Scott let a little smirk creep across his face. “You think that hurts me, Steve? Think you’re tellin’ me somethin’ I don’t already know and that makes me want to go off and cry? Boohoo.”

Steve cut his eyes to Rylan, and a malicious smile quirked his lips. “Yeah, you’re right. It probably makes you happy that little bro is a queer, ’cause then you don’t have to worry about coming home to find Patty Put-Out fucking him to death.”

The crowd gasped, and Rylan could see how Scott’s lips tightened a fraction. His body language was still relaxed, though, and he shrugged. “True that. Thanks for remindin’ me of all the positive things in my life, Steve. Appreciate you bein’ such a good friend.”

He walked off, and with all the wind taken completely out of their sails, the crowd soon dispersed. Rylan collapsed back down at his table and spread his sodden homework out to see if he could salvage it. Fucking pricks, Parker and Steve both. He had to admit he was surprised Scott hadn’t punched the asshole out, just as he caught a glimpse of what was going on across the room.

Steve was standing next to their usual table, holding his lunch tray. It seemed the kids had closed ranks and were refusing to let him sit down, and Rylan could see the desperate look on Steve’s face, the way he appeared to be pleading with them.

Scott was looking up at him, his face impassive. He said something, and the other kids sitting there turned their backs on Steve with finality. Steve stood there, looking like he was going to cry, and he threw his lunch in the garbage and ran out of the room.

Rylan felt almost sorry for the guy. Scott had won the battle by flexing his social power instead of his fists, and in the end it had wounded Steve more deeply and permanently than any cut or bruise ever could.

When the long-ass day finally limped to an end, Rylan stood waiting for the bus, hoping to be one of the first kids on so he could snag a seat and not have to worry about it. A horn tooting caught his attention, and he saw Scott beckoning to him from the passenger seat of Lisa’s car.