Catch Me If You Can (boyxboy)

Chapter 10

Tate’s pov.

I tense up as 24 sets of eyes land on me. I don’t even process them. All I can see right now is Cyren. Cyren, the sneaky son of a bitch. I’m going to kill him.

The silence of the room is interrupted when Owen opens the door and dashes outside, Mrs. Benson following after him. I’m tempted to follow him, but something holds me back. I need to fix this so that he doesn’t get bullied.

“We are not dating. He’s like my little brother. Just because we’re close friends doesn’t mean we’re in a relationship, Cyren,” I sneer, venom dripping off of my voice. “Though, I suppose you wouldn’t know that, considering as to how you have none. You are nothing but a snake. You know, with all the time you spend making up things to try and hurt Owen, I’m sure you don’t get to see your family much.” I begin to ramble, figuring things out about Cyren as I go. I ignore the other students glancing between the two of us apprehensively, none of them sure about what to do.

“I bet you don’t have a family. Either that or it’s a useless one. I bet your parents are abusive, aren’t they? Or maybe they don’t love you. Or perhaps, they’re dead? Maybe they gave you up for adoption because they couldn’t stand the sight to look at you.” At this point, I am standing up and slowly stalking towards Cyren. I’m not sure where the malice is coming from, but the vulnerable look in Cyren’s eyes makes me feel powerful.

“So, because you get no love from your parents, you choose to get it elsewhere. So, what did you do? You targeted me. When I flat out rejected you, you targeted what you thought to be my boyfriend. You spread lies and rumors about him, trying to batter him down until he can’t stand on his own. What’s your plan? Are you going to come in and sweep him off his feet? Are you going to push him to the brink of death before saving his life and turning him against everyone? What is your plan?!?” I jump over the last desk in between the two of us and reach for Cyren’s neck. I get a good hold on it and strangle it for a bit before someone pulls me off of him.

“Tate, dude,” I can barely hear someone say, but my mind is not with them. My mind is thinking of a million different ways to tear Cyren apart.

“Chill, man,” the voice continues to nag. I don’t really hear him. I still haven’t broken eye contact with Cyren. He looks frail and hurt, but I can see through his act. I can see the glint in his eyes. The glint that sends one message loud and clear: It’s on.

I return the look before getting up and storming out of the room, ignoring the protests and complaints of the other students.

Owen’s pov.

I dash through the hallways, struggling to see through my tears. I can faintly hear someone call for me to stop, but I can’t. I need to get as far away from that room as possible.

I guess it really sucks that I’m not a fast runner, doesn’t it.

Within a couple of seconds, the person chasing me is pulling me back, steadying me as I stumble.

“Owen,” Mrs. Benson breathes heavily. I find it sad that I was outrun by a woman in heels. “Calm down.” She bends over and holds her stomach, heaving to catch her breath.

“Whoa, I haven’t run that far in years.” I glance at the door just a couple dozen meters down.

Let me rephrase that: I find it sad that I was outrun by an overweight woman in heels.

“Owen, darling,” Mrs. Benson coos, “it’s okay. I’ll make sure that Cyren never talks about you that way again. I nod, not really wanting to talk to the woman. I mean, she’s nice to me, and all, but I’m not the type of person to talk about my feelings.

She pats my head before glancing down at me sympathetically, a small, reassuring smile on her face.

“Why don’t you go wash up, dear,” she suggests. “I’m going to go get some detention slips from the office. I ran out. Naughty kids.” She laughed to herself as she waddled down the hallway, still wheezing from the fifty meter jog. I sighed and watched her go before walking into the bathroom.

Glancing in the mirror, I am disgusted by what I see. An ugly boy with dull green eyes, skin too pale, lips too thin, cheeks too plump, and blue hair in desperate need to be redone. I look like an old baby.

I wash off my face to rid myself of tear stains. Sighing, I leave the bathroom, just to smack into a hard chest.

“Owen,” Tate breathes as he wraps his arms around me. “Are you alright?” I nod my head and he drags me back into the bathroom.

“I dealt with the situation,” he starts abruptly after a couple minutes of silence.

“What did you do?” I ask curiously. He takes a deep breath.

“Well, first, I managed to keep out relationship a secret,” he begins, “then, I started talking about how he had no family, and stuff. I think I figured out why he’s doing all of this stuff.” I interrupt him quickly to ask what happened, but he just waves me off, exhaustion taking over his features. Oh well. I’ll interrogate him later.

“What happened after that?” I ask and he blushes a bit. He scratches his head awkwardly and stalls for time. I raise my eyebrow at his sudden behavior and his cheeks go even redder.

“Well, I might’ve kinda lost control of my anger and choked him?” he offers and my jaw goes slack. He did what?

“Look,” he rushes to say, “I’m sorry, but I feel no remorse. He was picking on you and he burned you and-” I shut him up with a quick kiss.

“Thank you,” I breathe before continuing on with kissing him. I know Cyren was probably watching me, but I don’t care. Suck it, Cyren.

Cyren’s pov.

Soon after Tate storms out, I leave as well. It isn’t for the pitiful glances being shot my way, it’s simply because I no longer have a need to be here. Who would’ve thought that Tate had the balls to attack me during school?

I walk over to the little nook under the stair case that I call mine. Pulling out my laptop, I open my surveillance application and go through all the cameras I have scattered around school. I finally find the two delinquents in the bathroom near our classroom.

My blood boils as I watch them kiss each other passionately. Who told Owen he had permission to kiss lips that weren’t mine?

A sadistic smile overtakes my features as I assess the situation.

So Owen wants to play, too, huh? Well, this just got interesting.