Open Up *Scömìche FanFic*

Chapter 1

MITCH

Throughout my years of being bullied nonstop, I've learned quite a few things. For example, try to speak as little as possible. Because usually, hearing my voice makes me an easy victim for the bullies. You don't hear that many fourteen year old boys with a voice as high as mine is.

I keep a careful lookout for my best, and only, friend Kirstie as I quietly make my ways through the hall. I just hope I won't run into any of my old bullies from middle school-

"Hey, faggot."

I inwardly cringe. Looks like my luck didn't last long. But did I really expect it to?

"Yo, Grassi. I'm talking to you," the voice repeats. I turn around slowly, resulting in my body getting slammed against the lockers. I avoid eye contact as well as I can. It's my bully from seventh and eighth grade, Travis. Travis has always done the worst to me, while his "friends" stand by and watch, laughing at the victim.

"Long time no see. Have a boyfriend?" Travis snickers. Because of my voice, Travis assumes I'm gay. I am, but I haven't come out to anyone but Kirstie, which I did in seventh grade. The last thing I want to happen is for him to spread the news all over the school.

"Why aren't you answering me, Grassi? Are you scared?" He pins my wrists against the lockers with one hand, and raises the other up, in a fist-

Suddenly, in a blur, Travis is pulled off of me and pinned to the lockers by a blonde boy. What's going on? Someone I don't even know is defending me?

"Leave him alone, Travis," the blonde hisses. Travis scowls.
"What, you like this kid?"

"We're friends."

The blonde boy looks over at me and winks. Suddenly realization passes over me: I do know this boy. This is Scott Hoying. We were in theater together when we were 10, but after that we lost contact and never really talked again.

However, this is a taller, much hotter version of Scott Hoying.

Travis rolls his eyes and pushes Scott aside, storming down the hall. His friends quickly scramble to follow him.

I bite my lip. "T-thanks," I say quietly.
Scott grins a crooked smile.
"No problem. Hey, we should hang out again sometime. Catch up," he suggests.

"Yeah. Um, that'd be great," I stammer, suddenly very very nervous.

"Cool." Scott takes out a pen from his pocket, grabs my hand, and writes a series of numbers on my palm. "Call me?"

"Yeah! I mean, sure. Definitely," I try to ignore the fluttery feeling in my stomach. I smile nervously at Scott as he walks away.

Four years later, we're being reunited, and I already feel so different around him?

It doesn't matter. He's probably straight anyway...