This Feeling: Love

Chapter Two

"Trevor! You'd better wake up or you'll be late for school!"

Trevor groaned, but rolled out of bed anyway and got dressed. He picked up his backpack and left the house without so much as a goodbye to his parents.

He tucked his ear-buds into his ears and let the music take control of his legs as he walked. As soon as he saw the school across the street, he took out one ear-bud, and regained his focus on the physical world.

He joined three other boys, and shared greetings before he heard his name from someone else. "Samuel Carter and Trevor Summers, please come to the Counselor's Office. Samuel Carter, and Trevor Summers, please come to the Counselor's Office," rang across the school.

He groaned. "I know what this is about."

One of the boys grinned. "Be prepared for anything otherwise, Trevor. You never know," he said.

Trevor sighed. "Always the voice of reason."

The other boy chuckled and motioned for Trevor to leave and Trevor stuck his tongue out before he walked into the Counselor's office, standing in the doorway for just a moment as he got his bearings.

He glanced around and noticed a lady at the front desk, typing away at the computer and talking on the phone. One of her friends by the sounds of it, he thought as he went up to her with an expectant look. She pointed down the hall and mouthed Mr. Fisher before continuing her conversation.

Trevor knocked on the door, waiting for Mr. Fisher's call to come in.

When he walked in, Trevor didn't wait for Mr. Fisher's offer for him to sit down. He slouched in the chair, and leaned on his elbow. "So, what's this whole thing about?" he asked.

Mr. Fisher shook his head. "We have to wait for Samuel to show up."

As if he'd been summoned, the boy Trevor presumed to be Samuel had walked in. He stood there for a moment before taking a deep breath. "What's this about?" he asked as he took a seat beside Trevor, who noticed how far Sam was trying to sit away from him.

He was excellently dressed for someone in high school, with a lemon yellow sweater vest over a white dress shirt, and a plain blue necktie tucked in. His neatly done hair, and glasses gave him a scholarly look, but the way he sat, on the edge of the cushion with his back straight. This boy is way too poised for someone my age... he thought.

Mr. Fisher pulled out two sheets of paper and set them in front of him on the desk. "These are your respective grade reports. Samuel, you are passing with flying colors. Trevor, though..."

"Is failing," Samuel finished.

Trevor's hands clenched into fists, and he focused his eyes on something else in the room besides the grade reports.

Mr. Fisher nodded. "Yes. So, since I'm a kind man, I want Trevor to have a chance at graduation. So, Samuel, I want you to help Trevor get his grades back up."

Samuel shot to his feet, almost startling Trevor out of his seat. "Tutoring?!" he cried.

Mr. Fisher nodded, and Samuel scoffed. "I've got enough on my mind, right now," he said as he packed up his bags and walked out the door. Trevor stood to follow when Mr. Fisher called after Samuel. "Tutoring is after school starting tomorrow!"

Samuel shoved the door open, and Trevor followed him out.

"Sam!" he called after him.

Samuel groaned, but turned to him anyway. "What do you want?" he demanded.

Trevor extended his open palms. "Sam! Why don't you want to tutor me?" he asked.

Samuel sighed, and glowered at Trevor. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Trevor cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Samuel shook his head and turned away. "Just...forget about it..."

With that, Samuel left and Trevor stood in the lobby, staring in awe after Samuel, before walking back into the office, to find Mr. Fisher arranging the paperwork for Trevor's tutoring sessions.

"Sam knows a lot, so we won't be spending extra resources to get you one for every subject you're failing in," he said without looking up.

Trevor sighed as he put on his backpack and held his coat in his arms. "I appreciate this, Mr. Fisher. I really do. But why does Sam not want to work with me?"

Mr. Fisher stopped, but still didn't look up. "Samuel is...an enigma to me. It's hard for me to tell what he wants or doesn't want." He handed Trevor several sheets of paper. "Remember, tutoring is right after school starting tomorrow. I hope to hear you attended."

"Yes, sir."

Later that night, Trevor sat in front of his computer, talking with the same three boys he'd been with earlier. Trevor's screen sat in the bottom right corner of the screen, meanwhile the other three boys at in their own respective corners.

One boy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dude! You seriously don't recognize him?" He sported honey blond hair, and hazel eyes with fair skin.

"His question, and yours, Peter, remind me that I should..."

Another boy slammed his hands onto the desk. "Yes! Samuel Carter's the kid you bullied in middle school!" His blue dyed hair bouncing as he shot to his feet.

A third boy spoke up. "Calm down, Kyle. Samuel might still be upset about what you said back then. That might be why he doesn't want to tutor you."

Trevor groaned and slammed his face onto the desk, not even bothering to block the blow with his arms.. "I'm so stupid!"

"Trevor, these sessions will help you make amends with Sam."

"What's the point, Joseph?!"

Joseph leaned forward. "You want to apologize? You might as well prove to him that you are truly sorry, or else you'll never win him over."

Trevor paused. "I guess you're right. But, what if he doesn't forgive me?"

Joseph smiled. "He will, it'll just take time. Something that deep resurfacing could take some time to fully heal. Be gentle and patient, and you will be reaping your rewards before you know it!"

Trevor scrunched his face. "What were you? A preacher in a past life?"

Joseph chuckled. "My dad's the preacher actually. No go to bed and brace yourself for tomorrow."

Trevor saluted to Joseph. "Yes, Pastor Joseph."

"Shut up and go to bed." With that, Joseph, Kyle, and Peter all logged off, and Trevor was left alone. He got into his Pajamas and laid out on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

He groaned and covered his eyes with his arm. Shit.