Stars

Chapter 18

Trigger warning(?): breakdown (no self harm or related things don't worry)
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Pete's mood continued to improve throughout the school day as both students and teachers referred to him as 'Pete' and 'him.' As the bell rang to signal the end of fourth period, he stood from his desk and waited in the hallway until he saw the unfamiliar cut of Mikey's hair.

"What's next for you? Mikey asked, peering over Pete's shoulder at his schedule, which had somehow remained pristine and flat throughout classes. Mikey held his own, significantly more crumpled schedule in his left hand. Pete hesitated before answering,

"P.E." Mikey nodded slowly,

"Hey, at least you don't have math," he suggested in an effort to make Pete smile.

"Huh, yeah I guess," one side of Pete's mouth twitched up, and he walked away, letting his hand brush Mikey's arm as he disappeared into the swarm of people changing classes.

After speed-walking through the crowd, Pete made it to the changing rooms before anyone else, and quickly shoved his things into a locker. After looking around suspiciously, he pulled off his t-shirt and put on a black, considerably less comfortable, school logo emblazoned shirt instead.

Heavy footsteps rang through the hall outside the changing room just as Pete pulled out his phone. The shoulder of his slightly too-large shirt slipped down as two boys with similar, dickish haircuts entered, school football team printed bags in hand.

"Shit!" the blonde haired one of the two hit the other on the shoulder, and began to walk towards Pete. He looked up from his phone to see another small group of people entering the locker room, but was distracted by the blonde kid snapping at him. "Hey! This isn't the girls' locker room."

"Huh? Oh, I'm not a girl..." Pete said hesitantly, trying to contain the red flush creeping up his neck.

"Why're you wearing a bra then?" the second of the two boys snorted, eyeing the edge of Pete's binder, which was peeking out from under his shirt.

"I- It's not a bra. It's a tank top," Pete shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep a nonchalant tone, while begging for them to accept it and leave before they found out anything big. He didn't realize he had been so stressed until after the blonde haired 'football star' had clapped him on the back, and after feeling a sharp sting in his palm, he had looked down to see crescent-shaped marks from his short nails. "Calm the fuck down, no one's gonna know," he whispered to himself as he pulled the collar of his shirt up to cover the binder.

3 minutes and a string of google searches later, Pete stood behind the set of lockers, metal grates digging into the top of his head. He pulled out his phone again, and opened up Instagram to send a message to the group of mostly trans friends he used to rely on for everything.

'Rip me haha. I have PE and im gonna have to do it in my binder,' he sighed before pressing 'send,' knowing their responses would be almost comically worried for him. He quickly shut off his phone, and put it in his locker while trying to ignore the cacophony of his classmates behind him. The yelling and laughing left him standing on his toes on the edge of anxiety, as his brain projected his name into every joke told behind his back, each insult yelled across the room at friends.

Fiddling with the padlock on his locker, Pete waited until he heard shouts from the PE teacher outside until finally turning around and exiting the locker room.

An hour later, as he slipped into one of the empty shower cubicles, Pete pulled the curtains closed and changed as quickly as possible back into the black jeans and red button-down shirt with a black collar and buttons he had been wearing before. He grazed a hand against the floor to check how dry it was, before sinking down to the dry ground and burying his face in the shirt he had just taken off. He pulled at the front of his binder, breathing unnaturally slowly as he tried to make up for the hour of running on constricted breath he had gone through.

As he made his way back through the bustling, noisy locker room that was now filled with either sweaty or showering teenage boys, Pete tried his hardest not to slip on the puddles of water that decorated the grey floor. He somehow managed to reach the slightly rusted red locker to grab his phone without being snapped with a towel, or pushed into the wall.

The air-conditioned corridor brought much relief from the hot, steamy locker room. Pete stood by the doorway, watching small groups of friends walk past to lockers and classes, and waited until he saw the door to the science room open and Ray walk out, followed by the bouncing conversations of other students.

The second he saw Pete, he shifted his backpack higher up on his shoulder and made a beeline straight for him.

"If they don't turn on the AC in that classroom, I will actually melt," Ray pulled his hair back from his forehead with one hand, his face more pink than usual.

"Yeah," Pete smiled, unable to shake the feeling that had begun in the dreaded locker room.

~ ~ ~

The rest of that day was forgotten. The school day had ended at some point. He had probably seen Mikey since first period. For dinner, he had eaten something that left him full, and had a conversation about a topic with his aunt and uncle. Or so he assumed.

He sat at the wooden desk in the corner of his room; the anxious gnawing from the locker room still hadn't gone away, and the hours he had spent pouring into pointless youtube videos were doing nothing. He pulled up a word document, plans for homework buzzing through his head, but the words and answers wouldn't come. He pored over video after video, each one bringing another idea to mind, until he stood up, the urge to curl up and melt away into the stars becoming ever more present as he grabbed a fistful of his short hair, and tried to force the one small logical part of his brain to work, and keep him from waking his aunt and uncle.

'Just fucking choose something, Pete!' he thought so angrily it felt as if he had screamed it into the night, as he spiraled along with his thoughts, ending up on the ground, his only thoughts of anger and trying to force hesitant tears from his eyes.

'Let it out,' he thought desperately, 'let it all out and you'll be okay.' He tried to move, but the clenching of his fists and the self control it took not to fall back into old habits drained his energy, until he stood, trembling, turned off the light, and let himself fall into the chair by his desk, unknown emotions still boiling inside him.

It was the first day of school, what the hell was all this about? There was nothing major to stress over, no cataclysmic event that had taken place, nothing was fucking wrong. Nothing was wrong enough to get like this, panicky and shaky and angry at the smallest nothings. Maybe it was the feeling of his binder-less chest against his hoodie, or the thought of his mom somehow reaching him, but neither seemed reasonable.

He rocked on the hard, black chair, fingers tapping keys without pressing them as anxiety and confusion shot from his fingertips, a manifestation of negative energy that was released only back into his own brain. He scrunched his eyes up until he began to see patterns, and clenched his jaw while trying to stay grounded in reality.

This time last year, he would have reached for the phone, messaged a friend something far too worrying for them to take on, or written it all down in a secret note or forever unpublished story, but now, the words had dried up. There was nothing there to say what was happening when he had no idea what it was. He was spiraling, falling through space with absolutely no reason to, and it took everything he had not to crumble to dust.
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Hello.
This chapter was supposed to be fluff but I couldn't write it because I'm not sure how to right now (if that makes sense, probably not)
Sorry it's been 6 weeks. I can't promise an update next week but I'll try my best.
Have a semi enjoyable week, you're amazing.
-planetary