ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ (Gareth x Reader)

VIII

Small warning for the use of the gay slur.

Your shoes clicked loudly along the empty hallway floor, everyone from practice already having taken off. A chill seemed to creep into the school walls the closer you got to the detention room. Or maybe it was just your nerves. 

You disliked Gareth. Strongly. But he did not deserve what happened to him today. You already had your discussion with Hannah for disobeying you. You told Chance that you could fight your own battles. Both of them had looked at you like you were crazy, but apologized and agreed. 

You sighed as you approached the door to Mr. Isaac’s door. (Everyone called him that, as his last name was too hard to pronounce or spell) The other side seemed much more quiet than you had expected detention to sound like, but then again, it was run by Mr. Isaac. 

You knocked swiftly, before stepping back and waiting for someone to open the door. You prayed it wasn’t Gareth. 

The door creaked open and you were faced with a large black man looking at you confused. 

“I dawn’t have any moe people on today’s awgenda, kid, ” Mr. Isaac stated blankly, staring at you. 

Mr. Isaac held a thick Brooklyn accent for a different reason than you’d expect. He originally went to university and became a highly-skilled thespian. This led to a very hearty-broadway career. He ended it at its peak, however, because men on broadway are always assumed to be fags, he quit. Even if Mr. Isaac was a queer, he was a damn intimidating one. 

“Um… no. I needed to give my group partner his half of the work,” you replied, earning an eyebrow raise in response. He turned, glancing inside the classroom and at the people there, before turning back towards you. 

“Mawke it quick,” he replied, turning and walking back to his desk. You swallowed nervously and stepped inside. 

There were only a few kids in detention today. The “regulars.” A couple of boys in the back snickering quietly with some thin black haired girl. They all stopped abruptly and turned towards you, snickering and whispering something like, “cheerleader… in trouble…” and laughing. A row or so up sat a familiar boy, alone, holding a pen and doodling on the desk. 

Gareth. 

When he looked up an immediate wave of resentment flooded it, his jaw tightening. Anger flooded in his eyes. He probably suspected that it was you who caused it. You who did this. You almost believed that it was true. 

He looked… quite bad. His right eye was nearly swollen shut, an icepack held up to it with his free hand. His nose looked nearly broken with the bridge completely bruised red, a swollen busted lip, and a large purple contusion along his lower cheek in chin. Your stomach fell at the sight.  

Your steps slowly took you closer to him, his eyes never moving off of you, until you stood directly in front of the desk he sat behind. He looked up at you, confused and angry. 

You tried to find what words to say. But realized anything out of your mouth would shatter the act. That you, like everyone, thought he was a freak. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by you turning and pulling the papers you had marked for him out of your carry-on. You plopped them on his desk, looked at him once more in the eyes, and then turned and quickly left. Mr. Isaac and the group in the back stared on just as baffled as Gareth was. 

He was stumped.

-

G

areth entered his home still racking his brain for an explanation on your weird behavior. After sending your boyfriend after him, you seemed oddly… somber. Usually people like your type would be smug about it, catty that they won. But you acted differently. Why? 

“Want to talk about it?” Gareth jumped at the voice of his older sister, looking at her in the kitchen. 

”Liza,” Gareth turned towards her, “you scared me.”

Liza was Gareth’s older sister, and current guardian. She took care of him and their littlest sister, Clara. She looked similar to Gareth, but her hair was more chestnut and her face was longer. 

Liza flinched at the look of Gareth’s face, “damn, they got you good, huh? I’m assuming you lost this fight.” 

Gareth sighed, turning away and fully closing the front door. Liza leaned against the dining table and put her head in her hands. 

“They called again, said you got detention. Another fight with basketball boys. Same old, or?”

“Some cheerleader I’m partnered with sent her boyfriend after me,” Gareth snapped, eyes furrowed and anger boiling, “that’s all. I needed to defend myself.”

Liza shifted back upwards uncomfortably, nodding, “we still talked about this.”

“‘It’s only your freshman year, you need to fight only when necessary,’ I know, you don’t have to keep repeating it.” Gareth was annoyed, wishing this would all just go away. That you would go away.

Liza sighed, “sometimes it feels like I do, little man. Clara is still up if you want to say goodnight.”

Gareth took that as his excuse to leave. To think.