Ticket Outta Loserville (Trames au)

Chapter 5- Tristan's POV

It's finally the end of school, and I've just remembered that I left something in the changing rooms. I'm trying to get in there quickly as the football team are practising after school and I really don't want to run into any of them, especially given how rude James was to me earlier. I know he doesn't like me, but there was no need to be like that, especially in front of the class. 

To be honest, I can't even get my head around it- I know I'm not very confident, but even so, there's no way that I could humiliate someone like that. That said, I do a pretty good job at embarrassing myself. I guess James is just arrogant enough to get away with it. I thought I saw another side of him earlier, one that was almost a nice person, but I must have been wrong.

Thankfully, the changing rooms appear to be empty, so I can get my stuff without having to face the jocks as they're literally the last thing I need right now. I go to pick up my stuff, but then I hear a noise. It sounds like someone crying, but the room is empty so I figure that it must be something outside. However, as it so often does, curiosity gets the better of me and I go to investigate, thinking it's just some year 7 or something. 

As it turns out, I couldn't be more wrong. I open the door to the bathroom where the noise is coming from, and I'm greeted with a sobbing James McVey. My heart skips a beat- James is popular and seems happy, what the hell does he have to cry about? He must be really upset though, as he's curled up on the floor with his knees to his chest, bawling his eyes out. I don't know if he's realised I'm here. 

I don't want to disturb him, but equally I don't want to leave him here given how distressed he seems to be. In the end, I decide to crouch down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey." I say gently.

James looks up, tears still steaming down his cheeks and blurring his eyes. "What do you want, Tristan?"

"I wanted to check you were ok." I say, then cringe at how stupid that sounds. James clearly thinks so too, as he gives me a glare through his tears. He doesn't respond and I say "If you don't want to talk to me, fine. But I felt bad leaving you here."

James blows his nose. "I guess I'm just stressed."

"Mmm." I vaguely agree, although I don't believe a word of it. 

There's silence for a while, apart from a few snuffly sobs, but then he says "Look, I appreciate you checking on me, but I'd really like some space."

"Ok." I say, getting up and turning to leave. "I hope you feel better." James doesn't reply, but I hear him burst into a fresh flood of tears as soon as I'm gone. I sigh to myself- he clearly doesn't want to talk to me, but I feel bad leaving him there. Thankfully, I spot a slightly less scary looking guy from the football team. "Um, Scott?" I say as he walks past.

Scott, a guy who I vaguely know from my maths class, turns to me. "What?" he asks, clearly surprised that I'm talking to him.

"I'm not trying to rat anyone out, I don't know what's going on," I start, "But I was getting my bag that I left in the changing room and I found James crying."

"Oh." Scott says, looking both confused and worried. "Do you know why?"

I shake my head. "He said he was stressed, but it seemed like something more than that to me."

"Ok." says Scott. "I'll go and check on him. Thanks for letting me know." I still feel guilty, but slightly less so now. However, there's still a feeling of 'what if?' that I can't quite shake off. I've known James for ages, and the only time that I can remember him crying was in primary school when he cut his knee really badly. Yet there he was- sobbing his heart out on the bathroom floor in school. 

Don't get me wrong, I cry quite a lot, but I've never ever risked humiliating myself by crying like that in school. Part of me is asking why I care so much- James isn't my friend, he's not even nice to me, so really I have no reason to be worried about him being upset. But for some reason I am.  If I'd thought about it, I would have given him a hug, but he may have actually punched me. 

"What took you so long?" Brad huffs as I walk over to him and Connor. 

"Sorry." I apologise. "I got kind of sidetracked. I found James crying in the bathroom and I didn't  know what to do."

"Was he ok?" Connor asks. 

"Obviously not." I say. "He claimed it was stress, but I don't know. It seemed like something more." 

"I'm sure he'll be fine." Brad puts in. "James is far too tough to get so worked up about that sort of thing." I shrug, and try to put it out of my mine. But despite all the funny stories that Connor and Brad tell me, I can't get rid of James' image. Maybe it's because I know how it feels to cry and not tell anyone, and the awkwardness of someone finding out. I hope he's ok- but I don't really know why I care. It's nothing to do with me.

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I know James is kind of a douche in this, but poor baby nonetheless 😭 Also sorry about lack of update last Saturday, I was staying at my best friend's for her birthday.

I feel like no one is reading this, please vote and comment to satisfy my neediness 😂