Gasoline ➳ troyler a.u

decinueve

Tyler's POV

But that's not that case. I'm not happy. I'm always hungry, but I can't give in and eat, I can't do that to myself again.

At this point, I wanted to leave the nurses office, I didn't care that I still had to be in gym, I hated this place so much more though the gym was a close second. At least in that class, I'm always occupied by something, anything to keep me away from these thoughts exactly. From all this hunger. In this office, there's a weight scale taunting me in the corner and I'm forced to sit next to a refrigerator.

Here I'm forced to listen to what I have to say in my head, and sometimes what I have to say is just what I don't want to hear. For those reasons and those reasons only is why I want to go back to class. I don't care that Cameron's there, he can't touch me in classes, he can't hurt me, the only thing hurting my is the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that grows every waking second that I am left here to think about it. God i just want to--

"Well, the bell has just rung, signalling you to third period, in which I believe you have math? Is that correct?" The nurse asked me, interrupting my thoughts. I hadn't even known the bell rang until he had mentioned it. I nodded my head and she gave me a slip of paper.

"Okay, take this pass and go up to your third period class, tell them you were at the nurse, be seeing you", she signalled me out of the room.

-

"It's nice to have you Tyler, care to explain why you're so late?" Mr. Clarke greeted as i walked in.

"I believe she already told you but in case she hadn't, here is the nurses note." I placed on his desk and sat in my respective seat only to hear some of the kids giggling in the back.

Troye's POV

Lunch rolled around relatively fast. The day went by really fast considering a lot of the hooligans in which are enrolled in my classes didn't bother showing up. Classes were nice today. Only Joe, Caspar, Bethany, Zoe, Connor and I showed up to homeroom. Not to mention, Tyler. He showed up as well, but just later than others. Speaking of which, his bruising appears to be fading but he's so much quieter in class.

Speak of the devil. I didn't know where I was going specifically until I found myself parked right outside the door to the old teachers lounge. I opened the door to find, you guessed it, Tyler.

From the looks of it he was typing an essay and his face was scrunched up momentarily and held down what looked like the backspace button. He then continued to type and gave a hum in appreciation. His glasses were dropping a little lower on his face than usual, and he spotted me in the midst of pushing them back up his nose.

"Oh hey Troye! You're here for lunch too?" He greeted me, and suddenly I felt like I had literal butterflies in my stomach.

"Yeah, I'm not really the most social person around, you?" I asked, mentally face palming myself for not thinking about what to say before saying it.

"Mmmm, just writing an essay for Garcia... i have to pass her class if I'm gonna play in the football game." He answered nonchalantly. He stood up from the chair and walked to the back to get his bag.

I couldn't help but notice how weak he looked. His bruises were healing but he's gotten noticeably paler and not too mention, thinner. I feel almost like he's been avoiding lunch up here the entire year so far. After a brief silence, I finally mustered up the courage to say. "Hey, how're you holding up?"

That got his attention.

"I'm doing fine. Why?" He said levelly.

"I don't know, just thought I'd ask?" I answer sheepishly.

"..okay." He answered back, almost unsurely.

He almost suddenly averted his gaze and pretended to look for something. "Ty, you alright?" I asked, yet another question slipping out of my mouth.

"Yeah, yeah definitely, just gotta send this essay out to the professor and look for something" he rambled.

I wonder how long it takes him to realise we don't have professors.

"Alright then, so which professor is it exactly? if i recall Mrs. Garcia is a high school teacher along with every other teacher here, no professors. Whats going on?"  I asked him, taking a couple steps further.

He turns back around just then, not entirely meeting my gaze. "O-oh, well yeah of course I meant teacher, I just got confused for a second but yeah I just need to send this out to her and i'll be on my way." he rambled, again.

"Ty, Mrs. Garcia is almost as old as this school. She doesn't use email." I pointed out.

"Oh then I'll just print it, it's okay," he tensed, knowing that I was on to him.

"Tyler?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"There's no printer here."