"You told who exactly?"
"Thomas," said Mason, "you had to tell someone."
"No, I was perfectly fine not telling anyone." We were both sitting at my new table.
"You can't let them get away with this."
"They're your friends. You'd really sell them out?"
"They are not my friends anymore. You are."
"Why? Why me?"
"Would you be friends with people who beat others for fun?"
"Who did you tell again?"
"I told a counselor."
"If they call me down in the middle of math, I swear to God — "
"You hate math."
"What are you talking about?" I snapped. "I love math."
They did call me down today, but I didn't go. I just walked out. I got in my car and drove home. I didn't need a counselor. Those guys that beat me up had no control over me. I knew what those guys were like. Knowing that Mason had my back was therapy enough. Having him tell the counselor because he knew I wouldn't was therapy enough.
Thomas Hickory
YOU ARE READING
The Chronicles of Thomas Hickory
Teen FictionThomas Hickory is an average high school student dealing with lack of sleep, hard classes, crushes, and the hardships of Driver's Ed. Join him as he journalizes his life for the world to see.
