Cherry Cola

Chapter 1

The tapping of my pencil against the desk pounded in my ears as I bit my lower lip, staring down at the exam in front of me. Science is the only subject I ever struggle in, not to brag, but I'm a straight A student. I ran my fingers through my light brown fringe. Mr. Hathaway had left the room for something, leaving us to finish our tests. All of the poor students were swapping answers in his absence, but not me. Never.

The gears in my brain shifted as I tried desperately to remember all the steps of photosynthesis. I stopped tapping my pencil, adjusting my glasses on the brim of my nose, just for them to fall back down again. I sighed as I wrote out my answer, turning over the now finished test. First person done. Barely looking up, I glanced around the room through my eyelashes, checking to see if anyone else looked as if they were almost done. I've always hated being the first to walk up to the front of the room. Everyone's eyes on me just give me anxiety for some reason. It didn't look like anyone else was close to finishing, so I just decided to suck it up and turn in my test. It's only about 10 feet, I was being ridiculous. Setting my pencil in the groove at the top of my desk and picking up my exam, I turned in my seat and meekly stood up, stepping into the aisle. I began to walk towards the front of the room, when suddenly, I heard someone call out my last name,

"Hey, Tomlinson!"

The outburst made me jump out of my skin as my not so broad shoulders sank down. Still walking, slower now, I looked around a bit to see who had called for me, but the next thing I knew I was face planted on the cold tile of the classroom floor. All I could hear was the laughter of everyone in the room. I slowly, gently stood up and saw that the boy who had tripped me was none other than the baddest, scariest, meanest drug addict bully in the whole 11th grade. Harry Styles. But to my surprise, he wasn't laughing as hard as everyone else.

My cheeks grew more and more red as the roars of laughter from my classmates finally began to die down. I turned in my exam and made my way back to my seat, careful of where I stepped. As I passed Harry's desk, he gave a dimply, almost evil looking smile as he winked at me. I shuddered and hurried back to my desk. I guess you could say I was the target for almost every bully in the school, usually attracting the worst of the worst. My square framed glasses, anything but clear face, good grades, and metal braces shining on my teeth just set me up for being picked on. Oh, and the fact that I'm gay. That usually brings the worst words flying at me, mostly in the locker room. And I absolutely hate it. Of course I'm confident with who I am, but it's hard to take what people say. No one likes being bullied. When it's only a few words every week, that's something people can deal with. But when I get physically and mentally beaten down every single day of my life in this hell called school, sometimes I just feel like life isn't worth living anymore.

The final bell rang, dismissing classes for the day. Everyone scrambled out of the room, leaving me last to pick up my books and shuffle out. Once at my locker, I gathered my things and closed the door with a frustrated slam. Why couldn't I just fit in with everyone else? I began walking down the long hallway and out the two main doors, beginning my 2 mile walk home.

After strolling down the sidewalk with my headphones in for about 15 minutes, I started to feel like someone was following me. Slowing to a stop, I looked behind me to see that Harry, the bully that had tripped me in class earlier, was about 10 yards behind me. My heart automatically jumped into my throat. Why was he following me? Wasn't embarrassing me in front of the whole class enough for the day? I began to quicken my pace, taking longer strides. Harry was much taller and stronger than I; if he wanted to, he could break me like a toothpick. I removed my headphones, wrapping them around my iPhone and sticking it in my pocket. Still walking fast, not daring to look back, my heart started beating faster and faster. I felt as if I was going to have a panic attack right in the middle of the sidewalk. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to look back and see if he was still following me. Taking a sharp, deep breath, I glanced over my shoulder to see that Harry was indeed still following me, but this time, he called out,