~Entwined~ [discontinued]

three;

When Phil and I said our goodbyes before heading our seperate ways to our homerooms, I didn't return the smile he gave me.

I had tried everything. Glaring at him when we saw each other in the halls, calling him names, refusing to sit by him when he invited me to his table at lunch.

Still, he did not get the hint.

Why was this boy still being nice to me, when I had made it so obvious I didn't like him? I was rude to him all day, yet he still grinned at me, said hi to me in the hallways. He was such a nerd, too. He had stickers covering his backpack, all from stupid games and lame TV shows. And don't get me started on his ugly black glasses- they covered up most of his face and made him look amazingly stupid.

Amazingly.

Amazing...Phil.

I smiled down at the notebook I was currently doodling in.

The perfect nickname.

"...Daniel? Did you hear what I said?"

My head snapped up to Mr. Brown's skinny frame leaning over me.

I cleared my throat and closed my notebook hurriedly. "Um- sorry, what?"

A few kids laughed, but my annoyed teacher just sighed and shook his head. "Never mind, I don't think it's possible to give you a lower grade in this class anyway."

The class snickered, a few kids giving me looks. I ignored them and opened my notebook, continuing to draw little sketches of Lara Croft.

I was used to comments and jokes about how stupid I was, and how I had no future, and would never amount up to anything.

They were all true, anyway. Who was I to argue with facts?

It didn't seem that long until the bell rang, the end of the school day finally here at last. Only, I had kind of hoped the class had lasted longer, dreading my lesson with that perky fool.

I gathered my things, shoved them into my backpack, and threw it over my shoulders, quickly heading out the door before Mr. Brown could stop me.

My Converse went click-clack on the polished, tiled hallway as I scurried toward the library, the most boring place in the whole school, full of dusty old books and computers that didn't work.

I headed down the poster filled hall, staring at my shoes as I walked. Nobody went down this hall, all it led to was the library and the auditorium, so it was empty except for me.

What a relief.

I finally relaxed and started to walk a little slower, when suddenly my body was slammed into the wall, making a horrible banging sound.

Not again.

I let my body sink to the floor, cupping my face in my hands. My head was throbbing painfully from the impact, and I knew exactly what was to come next.

"Hey there, faggot," a loud, obnoxious voice boomed from above me. Laughs erupted from behind his back.

I lifted my head up weakly, meeting his disgusting green eyes. Brandon was probably the most ugly kid in this school, with scars all over his misshapen head, topped with unwashed strips of light blonde hair. Trish and Sofia made up his entourage of absolute pricks, and both of them were equally as large and as ugly.

"Aw, someone is scared today," Brandon said, in a voice you would use to speak to cute dogs.

Except I'm not cute. I'm dumb, and ugly, and completely stupid and worthless.

I looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. The last time I had cried in front of them, I had recieved more bruises than I could count.

Trish snickered, stepping forward. "You're wearing pink, faggot? Typical of a gay idiot like yourself."

Then the kicks came. First at the thigh, then slowly working their way up to my ribcage. Each one harder than the last. I winced at every one, my stomach churning and liquids rising in my throat.

"Hey, leave him alone!"

The kicks stopped immediately. I looked up tiredly to see a blurry blue blob running towards us. Then, Brandon and his group's footsteps sounded fast down the hall, like they were running away.

I turned, with a great deal of effort, to see. They were running away.

I blinked several times to focus on the blue blob in front of me. When I did, I was kind of surprised.

There was Phil, kneeling before me, looking extremely concerned.

"Phil?" I whispered, my eyelids feeling heavy. Tears welled up in my eyes, causing my vision to be blurred again.

I felt strong arms settle around my curled up frame, bringing me onto the owner's lap. I leaned my head on Phil's shoulder, warmness spreading through my body. I had never experience any sort of comfort before, so that must have been what I was feeling.

Then the tears came, spilling over my eyelids onto his shirt, leaving wet splotches on the expensive-looking material.

"Shhh, it's okay," he cooed, his voice soft and sweet, and then he started rocking me gently, side to side. It felt nice, even if it was him. I was so delirious, I was letting this asshole calm me down like a baby.

I was about to break out of his tight hold on me, when he rested his head on top of mine.

"I'm here now," he whispered again, his soft Raven hair tickling my earlobe.

He was there.

I closed my eyes and let myself relax against his body.

And I was grateful.