What started with a random number (BXB) (GAY)

Up in flames.

Red escorted Emory down the hall, bringing him to the class that he was supposed to be in.  

"Do I have to go to math?" Emory complained, tightening the straps of his backpack and then loosening them. Repeatedly. 

"What do you think I'm gonna say? Honestly, Em, what do you think?" Red responded, keeping his gaze straight and not sparing a glance for Emory.

Emory rolled his eyes and looked to the right, glancing into all the classes as he walked by. "Well that son of a bitch pissed me the fuck off and I will hit someone." He grumbled. 

Red exhaled slowly and gradually stopped walking, turning to face Emory. "Fine. Hit me then." 

Emory paused, glancing at Red. Normally, if anyone gave him the offer, he would've jumped to it, no hesitation. But here he was. Hesitating. 

There was something different about it. It wasn't a challenge, which is what people typically mean when asking someone to hit them. It was more like a demand. 

Red stared blankly at Emory, to which he stared back. For about three seconds before looking down. 

Red scoffed as Emory shifted his weight between either foot. "I think I can go without hitting someone, actually," Emory muttered, glancing up at Red for another quick second. 

"No, no. You said you were gonna hit someone. Let's see it." 

Emory tapped his foot against the ground before looking up again. "You know what? Fine. You're a total fucking dick anyway, so you deserve it," He snapped, clenching his fist as he took a small step forward. 

"I don't think I said you could insult me as well, but whatever gets you riled up," Red muttered, shrugging slightly. 

Emory cracked his knuckles before winding his right fist back and throwing it forward, clocking Red in the jaw. 

Red scoffed slightly, opening and closing his mouth. "Not bad," He chuckled, Emory rolling his eyes. "You do this to anyone else today and I'm just gonna give you a delayed punch back." 

Emory shook his hand, meeting Red's gaze, who grinned. "Your hand hurt?" Red asked, laughing slightly.

"No. Shut up," He grumbled, shoving his hand into his pocket.

They made it to the classroom and Emory stood outside the door, pausing. 

"Thanks, you can go now," He said, glancing over his shoulder at Red, who was still stationed behind him. 

"I'm not stupid," Red responded, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Emory scoffed, turning to face Red. "What? I wasn't gonna do anything." 

"Sure, because you totally weren't planning on going somewhere else as soon as I walked away," Red mocked, rolling his eyes as he continued to wait for Emory to enter the classroom.  

As Emory was about to make a remark, his phone began buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out and it was once again from the bitch with no called ID. But he had blocked the number earlier. His expression must have shifted somehow because Red walked towards him.

"Who is it?" He asked, getting closer before Emory shoved his phone back in his pocket.

"Nothing, it's... it's nobody. Probably just a uh... wrong number or something. Or- or a spam call maybe." Emory responded, throwing excuses out, which only made Red more suspicious. 

His eyes narrowed as he studied Emory's expression, exhaling slightly before taking a slight step back. "Whatever. Get to class." 

Emory turned and walked straight into the classroom. Anything to avoid Red asking more questions. 

He walked to his seat, sitting next to Stephen, who immediately turned to him. "Dude, you got called to the principal's again? What'd you do now?" 

Emory rolled his eyes, slouching down in his chair. "Nothing. It was some random fucking bullshit again. I swear, his Teletubby-looking ass is out to get me." 

Stephen snickered slightly, dropping his head down to hide the smirk. He lifted his head back up again, snapping his head towards Emory. "Fuck, did you hear about Parker?" He asked, tapping his hand against the desk. 

Emory furrowed his brows. He knew Parker got suspended, but everyone knew that. "His suspension?" 

"No, that's not even close to as bad as what he just did. Apparently, he set a random ass store on fire. Luckily nobody got hurt, but he didn't even get arrested!" Stephen explained, a massive grin on his face.

"What? Why? Is he a little mad he got suspended?" Emory joked, snickering along with Stephen. Up until the teacher caught on. 

"Emory, Stephen. Stop disrupting my class or else both of you will be written up," He shouted, the rest of the class turning their heads to look at both of them. 

Unlike Emory, Stephen hated to have a lot of attention on him. Especially from getting in trouble with the teacher. So he slouched down and dropped his head, a faint blush spreading across them. 

Emory however didn't mind it. He loves having the attention on him. It gives him a bigger audience for when he fires back. Normally, he just talks back for the fun of it. But since Stephen was upset, his best friend, he wasn't gonna let that shit happen. 

But. 

He couldn't get sent to the principal's office again. He was just there and Red had just came in for it. 

Like that would stop him.

"You wanna fucking talk? You need to stop taking your anger out on students just because everything in your life is fucked. You know damn well even kindergarteners have a better love life than you. I've brought up your divorce once and I will do it again. Maybe once you stop struggling financially and having to deal with losing your house, we can talk." 

Nobody said anything for a good minute. It was mostly silent until Stephen started laughing. Which caused everyone to start laughing. Except for Mr. Mace, of course. 

Another minute later and Emory was outside of the classroom once again. He was supposed to go to the principal's office, but the only good thing about Mr. Mace was that he never called to make sure whatever kid he sent down got there. 

So Emory just left. Sure, Red would most likely find out and get pissed, but it's better than an expulsion. Probably. 

Emory just walked to a nearby park, sitting on the bench and scrolling through his phone. 

Luckily enough for him, Red hadn't said anything or done anything yet. 

Unluckily for him, someone else did. Another call. 

This time, he picked up. 

"What the actual fuck do you want?" Emory snapped, bouncing his leg as he leaned back against the bench. 

"One down, three more to go until it's your turn." 

Then they hung up. 

"What the actual fuck was that? What does that shit even mean?" Emory thought out loud, dragging a hand over his face in frustration. 

He shoved his phone back in his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest. Nobody else was at the park except him. 

It was calming, but it was also unsettling in a way. Something felt rather off. 

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AUTHORS NOTE: So I kind of forgot I had to keep uploading but... here we are. I got so many good ideas for future parts when writing this. Anywho, you can still make guesses on who you think the anonymous caller is. Depending on how many people guess it correctly, (if any), I might make it so that only the first person who got it gets credited. But if only a few people guess it, I'll probably credit them all. Good luck. 

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