He was there

The Toilets

"So, what year are you in?"
"I'm in year 11" He took the toilet paper off of my head, it was soaked in blood.
"I'm in year 12."
"Oh, cool." I have to admit, it was quite exciting being in a toilet with an older boy, but it bought back memories, bad ones. But, they didn't matter anymore, they were there but I didn't notice them. They didn't effect me.
After a couple of minutes he was done. Over. I didn't want it to be, but it was.
"I should probably go to my lesson." I started to walk away when I felt a familiar hand grasp my arm.
"Wait, don't go. I want to talk to you, get to know you." He emphasised the word 'you'. He really wanted to get to know me? Plain, boring me?
"Well, what do you want to know?"
"Let's start with your name."
With all the excitement, I completely forgot to tell him my name. Oops.
"Robin, I'm Robin."
He reached his hand out to shake mine and replied with "I'm Dylan."
His hand shake was firm, but soft. Maybe a little too soft but I didn't mind. Mine wasn't perfect either.
"I'm 16 years old and my birthday is on Christmas Day."
"Oh so your old enough to..." he paused, I knew what he was going to say. I had to stay cool. He wasn't going to do anything. Was he?
"Yes, I'm old enough. But, I'm sorry it's a no."
He looked horrified.
Shit. Now he thinks I'm some sort of wierdo.
"No, I only meant your old enough to drink with an adult. I was thinking about taking you out for a drink after school, but if you don't want to that's fine too." 
          My mind was screaming 'NO! DANGER, DANGER! ABORT, ABORT." But I don't know, something about him made me want to go.
God, that sounds cheesy.
"Ok, I mean what's the worst that could happen?"
His face lightened up, a lot. His smile was so big, it couldn't possibly get bigger. It felt good, to do that to someone.
"Great! After school, meet me outside here, I'll take you to the local. Is that ok?"
"Yeah, perfect. I think I should go to class, but it was nice meeting you and thanks for being so kind."
I was wrong, it could get bigger. "Well, what else could I do."
          He walked me out and told me how to find my first lesson, history. The teacher understood why I was late. Obviously I didn't tell him the whole truth but he saw the cut on my head and believed my story. He was really young
and had scruffy dark hair and wore a smart shirt and tie. He was nice too. Everyone tried to talk to me, ask me where I came from, why I moved. Again, I obviously didn't tell the truth. Lots of people wanted to be my friend, it was nice to be wanted. But the only thing that was in my mind was seeing Dylan again. Not in that way. He was just so nice and my first friend at this school.     
          After my last lesson, Spanish, I ran, carefully though, to the toilets. He wasn't there.
Great, he's ditched me. Why wouldn't he?
After a minute of panicking, I saw him walk round the corner. He saw me, smiled and waved.
"Hey, sorry I'm late. Now let's go." He took my hand and pulled me out of the door.