Page 61 of This is Me

“Mitchell?” Blaire questioned, and I glanced at her, watching her knot her eyebrows. “The guy who loiters behind Donny all the time, hoping to get noticed?”

“That would be the one.”

“What did that exfoliated asshole say?” Blaire pressed, anger beginning to coat her face. “Because I will destroy him emotionally, physically, and mentally.”

“Remember last year how we talked about your anger management skills?” I asked, snickering, and Blaire glared at me. “He basically said it was lucky I wasn’t a fag, or something like that,” I quickly muttered, and silently prayed Blaire didn’t yell and wake everyone up.

“One,” Blaire whispered after a moment of her taking some deep breaths and making a few graphic hand gestures. Some of which looked as though she was practising ripping someone’s head off.

“One… one what?”

“Person,” Blaire stated, placing her hand on my shoulder again. “That’s only one person. You already have that many people on your side, ready to punch the living fuck out of that slimy slab of mucus.”

“I’m glad you’re taking this well,” I said, smiling as I turned back to my computer, waking it up and logging in.

“Oh, don’t you worry. My anger management has improved. I now internalise it all. So many scenarios playing in my head of what I will do to that scrawny rat of a man if he says anything or lays a finger on you.”

I stole another glance at Blaire as my computer loaded up, only to see a broad smile on her face as she, no doubt, played through those scenarios in her head.

“I’ve let a psycho into my house, haven’t I?” I asked, turning back to my computer and opening up the internet.

While Blaire may have been coming on a little strong, I couldn’t help but feel safer knowing she had my back. I knew all too well that Blaire wouldn’t actually do anything to hurt Mitchell—too much—if he ever did something, but having her by my side was more than enough. Besides, I now had Andy and Leroy, too. I could do this.

For the first time in forever, I felt like I was going to be okay.

“Perhaps,” Blaire said, and I felt her move closer beside me.

As we both looked at my computer, I clicked on the bookmark of the school's social wall and waited for the website to load, all while Blaire quietly chanted, egging me on.

“I’m so proud,” she whispered into my ear as I scrolled through the main feed of the website. “But what about your parents?”

“What about them?”

“I thought you’d want to tell them first.”

“I…” I trailed off as I thought of my parents.

I wish I could say that I had no doubt they would accept me with open arms, but I couldn’t. I wanted them to know, but I didn’t know if I could face them if they didn’t look at me the same. I knew that there were people who would look down on me. Mitchell was an example of that. What if my parents were the same?

I had no way of knowing. Everyone else’s ridicule—if there as any—I could face. If I had Andy, Blaire, and Leroy. But my parents? There was nothing in this world that could help me if they turned their back on me.

I wasn’t ready for that. I couldn’t face it. Not yet.

“I don’t think I can,” I muttered, and I felt Blaire gently touch my shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’ll support any decision you make,” Blaire said, and I rested my hand on top of hers as the website finally loaded.

The layout was like any other social media site, though, inside of a giant ‘fuck you’ to its userbase, all the posts were in chronological order. The posts that I scrolled by were all generic. People complaining about anything and everything and posting memes.

So many memes.

“If I should not do this, you need to tell me. Stop me,” I said, slowly clicking to make a new post.

“No, no. I support this decision, but only if you are comfortable with this.”

“Well, I don’t know. I think so? I mean, I have you, and Andy, and Leroy. That’s all I need.”

“Pete, if you’re not sure, don’t do it.”