AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I sit down next to him. “Vann, the weirdest thing happened.”
“This test has me so messed up. How the hell do you calculate isotopic mass again? Or did we even learn that?”
“I need to tell you about it.”
“Oh, wait, it’s the atomic mass I’m thinking about.”
“Vann …”
“Here I was, freaking out over a thing that isn’t even on the—”
“I made Hoyt wet himself in class by tickling his feet,” I blurt out, “and then he kissed me in the bathroom.”
Vann’s eyes snap to mine.
The bell rings.
Mr. Schubert wastes no time in starting the class, and handing out the tests. And today’s third period chemistry class officially becomes the longest period of time I have ever in my life had to endure sitting next to a very tense Vann, whose thoughts I can’t even begin to fathom.
Until after the bell when we’re walking the planks back to the main school. “Why the hell would you drop that kind of bomb on me before class?” Vann asks as we march on. “And how do I even begin with that? Tickling him? Wetting himself? Kissing you?”
“It didn’t all happen at once, but … Vann, we’re walking fast.”
“I’m mad,” he growls. “And I walk fast when I’m mad.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he’d kiss me. If I’d known he had some kind of—”
Vann stops at once, a beam of sunlight cutting across his face. “I’m not mad at you, Toby. Why would I be? Hoyt forced himself on you. And as for wetting his pants?” He scoffs. “He’s been messing with you way too long. That pompous prick had it coming … and he’s got more coming, as far as I’m concerned.”
I grab Vann’s arm. “Don’t do anything.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I’m serious. Your strike one might’ve been the first day of school, but if you do anything, Principal Whitman could just give you all three strikes at once and … and …” I drop my eyes. “I can’t be at this school without you, Vann. You make it bearable.”
He puts a finger under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. “You’ve been a star on a stage,” he reminds me. “This school’s got your back now. You don’t answer to anyone, and you don’t depend on anyone for that newborn brazenness in your eyes—not even me.” He kisses me, then smirks. “That’s all you, Toby.”
My anxiety unwinds as I sigh. “Thanks.”
Vann’s face tightens. “But Hoyt’s a whole other issue, and I’m gonna deal with him my own way. And it won’t involve any feet—or laughing.” He resumes walking.
My anxiety tightens right back up. “Vann, stop. I’m serious.” I hurry and catch up to him. “Don’t do anything. Why are you being like this? I told you it’s been dealt with.”
“No. It’s only just started. He kissed you, Toby. He’s trying to rile me up.” Vann all but cracks his knuckles as he works his jaw, his eyes as dark as storm clouds.
Even when we stop by my locker so I can drop off my things, Vann can’t seem to stand still. He paces behind me as I continue to try talking him down. “I know you want to see it your way, but I think this is something else, Vann. I don’t believe he was trying to get under either of our skins. He was just …” I sigh as my worried eyes meet those of my moogle doll’s, hoping they’re still watching over me. “He was just confused. If you want me to be completely honest, I think he’s working through some sexuality issues.”
When I close my locker, Vann’s half-lidded eyes are there to meet mine, and he’s smirking. “You don’t think I called him for a repressed jock homo the first day we met?”
I frown. “Really?”
“It’s written across his face. And that’s beside the point. He disrespected you. He forced his lips on you. I don’t care who he is or what he thinks he’s entitled to do. That arrogant prick is gonna learn some respect today.” Vann heads for the gym.
Vann is unstoppable when he barges into the locker room and heads the opposite way from our lockers, around the corner, and directly up to a particular set of lockers I happened to be near not two periods ago in search of pants I apparently couldn’t find. And in front of those lockers is Hoyt, Julio, and Benji, all three of them partially undressed, only their shorts on. Upon Vann approaching, Julio and Benji straighten up. Hoyt is fishing something out of his locker, distractingly telling them a somewhat familiar story. “And before I knew it, he had my feet, and I was laughin’ my ass off, and y’know that old Ms. Bean can’t see for crap, so there she is, sayin’—”
“Hoyt.”
Hoyt stops talking and pulls his head out of his locker. When he sees us, his eyes freeze over. “The hell …?” he mumbles.
