A Touch of Courage (Troyler AU)

Chapter 39: Hostage

"Before you find your soul mate, you must first discover your soul."

― Charles F. Glassman

Troye's POV:

Getting out of bed the next morning took a herculean effort, one Troye managed only because he was as keen on self-preservation as he was on maintaining his lies. He needed everyone to think he was okay. That meant getting up and going in to class as if nothing was wrong.

He got ready as slowly as he could get away with, but soon found himself unable to delay further.  He walked through the crowded campus towards his first class. Rounding the last corner was almost beyond his capabilities and his hands shook in the pockets of his pants. His feet tried to jerk against his will; tried to turn him around.  He knew the bell was about to ring any minute, but he stood a hundred feet from the entrance with feet made of cement.

Finally, taking several deep breaths, he walked in slowly and made his way to his first class.

When he walked in, Zoe glanced up at him. Troye looked at back at her uncertainly, not really sure how he was supposed to react, but she quickly looked away. Troye looked at her a moment longer-his gaze a question-but Zoe blinked down at her desk and refused to look back up.

It was only then that he noticed he had walked to his usual seat, on the opposite side of the room from Zoe. Habit and muscle memory must have led him there. He hesitated, his hand on the back of the chair. Maybe he should sit closer to her, maybe it was up to him to sit closer to her? Should he now? He looked over, but Zoe's focus was studiously forward. He thought about her conversation with Caspar and Tyler and started to sit, then thought about her bringing him muffins at his lowest point and hesitated again.

"Everything okay, Troye?"

"Fine. Yes. Sorry."

He took his usual seat.

-X-

"Troye? Did you even hear the question?"

Troye had been gazing out the window at the darkened sky, rusty metal under the glassy dusk of a coming storm. Mr. Carroll's voice jolted him back into the drab classroom and he noticed with dismay that half a dozen faces were already turning to stare into the back corner where he sat under a tattered map of the world. None of his other teacher's had called on him all day. Mr. Carroll was the only one who insisted on trying to make him talk. If only Mr. Carroll would leave him alone, he knew the other students would forget his existence completely.

His tightened his body and stared as blankly as he could at the board as the first muffled giggling started around him. His stomach began to twist and his hands turned horribly cold. He squeezed them together under the desk to stop them trembling.

"Troye? You should be on page one seventeen of your textbook. The second question?"

He was on page one seventeen. He glanced down automatically at the second problem, and he was sure he knew the right answer. It was obvious.

He didn't say anything and the voices and giggles got louder and faster. It buzzed around him like angry wasps. Mr. Carroll waved a hand to silence everyone, but it didn't have much effect. Troye hated the concern growing in those droopy brown eyes. He knew the quickest way to make them all ignore him was to just answer the question, but he opened his mouth and nothing came out. His hands were shaking so much now that he had to cross his arms to hide them.