▎. . . In which seven boys meet in the school counsellor's office every week and are given a group project to work on for the year.
UNDERGOING REWRITING
sidemen...
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄. triggers: cursing, fighting, anxiety, mentions of illness, sensory issues.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 at the little green slip once more, eyes carefully raking over each word as if they hadn't been read umpteen times already.
For: Joshua Bradley With: Mrs Shields Time: August 16, 13:00
He rattled his fingernails against the card, appreciating the relief it brought to his stress. There came a stigma with being sent to the counsellor's office: only kids with problems were kicked to the door. Josh certainly didn't have a problem. He was met with a painful dread in his stomach when the slip had been handed to him in the morning, followed by the circulating laughter from his classmates.
Was he in trouble? Fucking hell, he hoped this wasn't about that fight last Friday – sure, he had been there, but he hadn't done anything wrong.
The knot in his chest only tightened as he rounded the corner, face-to-face with the office door. There was a plaque dead centre which read Mrs Shields: Pupil Support, decorated with carefully painted lilac flowers.
Beyond the glass window in the door sat a crisp white table. This, surprisingly, already housed two boys, who appeared to be fondly bickering. He recognised them, but couldn't fixate on their names.
Taking a moment's pause, Josh sharply exhaled. It's fine, it's only a meeting. Just as the teen raised his hand to knock, one of the boys inside huffed and leaned back in his chair.
"If you're looking for Mrs Shields, just come in!" He called tiredly, as though Josh was a nuisance to him. Josh, in turn, pulled a face before easing the door open.
"Is this the meeting room?" He asked carefully, noting the irritated look on the blond's face. He seemed naturally stoic, a bitter wit about him. His counterpart, dark-skinned and wearing a bandana on his forehead, came across as far more easygoing. Whilst both of them were relaxed in their chairs, the blond still kept a rigid tightness to his demeanour.
"Obviously," he sharply answered. This boy was complicated, Josh instantly observed, when he came undone again and turned to his friend with a smile.
Despite the hushed chatter from the both of them (which had only died down after Josh came in, making him feel a lot more unwelcome), Josh felt a horrid awkwardness in the air. He cleared his throat lightly, sitting down in a chair and cracking his knuckles.
"Do you... come here a lot?" He tried, daring to meet the tall boy's eyes. He scoffed out a laugh, and Josh thought he might actually be getting somewhere, until the blond leaned his elbows onto the table and smiled sourly.
"This isn't a date, Josh. And, although I like men, you're not my type."
His counterpart burst into shrill laughter, forcing a hand over his mouth. Josh felt the blond's eyes still burning into his own as he looked away and found a sudden intense interest in his shoes.
