Wrong Number

Black Sheep

Song: Black Sheep

Artist: Palaye Royale

^^^

As Simon and I walked to the cafeteria, the punks who messed with Tylor strode past us. The two looked up and saw me, and I glared deep into their souls. While they glared back for a moment, they jerked their heads away.

I hated how often they got away with messing with Tylor. Seeing all of those marks and scars on his body, I hoped they weren't all because of them. While he said he and his friend would wrestle, that didn't mean it was the truth. He didn't owe me the truth. After all, we'd only just become friends. That might not have been something he wanted to let other people know about yet.

I wanted to help him as best as I could. He didn't deserve to be bullied for being queer in metal. That had to be the stupidest reason to be bullied. What would I have to do to make sure they wouldn't mess with him anymore?

"You good?" Simon slowly asked.

Snapping my head away from them and back to him, I dumbly asked, "Huh?"

"You got it out for them or something?"

"Maybe," I muttered.

"The fuck did they do?"

"They've been bullying Tylor. Like physically hurting him."

As I said Tylor's name, Simon made a face. "You good?"

"Yeah."

I tsked. "Let me know if you see them messing with him."

"You protective of him or something?"

"He's getting harassed for being gay. That's not okay."

Simon shrugged. "True... I guess."

"You guess?" I snapped. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Nothing!" he defended, holding out his hands. "I don't condone that shit either."

"Then what? You got a problem with Tylor?"

"I don't have a problem with him, per se. It's just... he's a weird kid," he stated. "I've known him since junior high, and he was just as weird of a kid then as he is now. He used to wear a cape to school every day. Like the kind that came in a child's magic kit. And he'd always glare at people and would hide in the corner and never talk to anyone. I'm pretty sure he convinced himself he was a vampire. Now he's just matured to emo."

"How do you know it wasn't a coping mechanism?" I questioned. "What if he was getting bullied then, too, and use that as a way to feel safe?"

"And how do you know he wasn't just being a weird, antisocial asshole?" he argued. "I tried to be cool with him on multiple occasions, and he was a dick each time. He doesn't like people. He talks to everyone like he's better than them."

He'd never spoken to me like he thought he was better than me.

"When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"I gave up in seventh grade."

"Five years!" I exclaimed. "It's been five years. He's grown up since then."

"Whatever. He's just a weird kid who has just matured his look. He's still as anti-social as he was then."

"And that's supposed to be a valid excuse to let him get bullied by a couple of fuckers like them?" I snarled.

"Of course not," he sighed. "But to be his friend... It's pointless. He could just be using you for something, or he could just be bored. He'll just push you away, eventually."