I'm Not A Girl, I Swear [Discontinued]

I

Nick's father certainly found out what that meant. It meant they were getting a divorce.

Nick sighed, not daring to look behind him. Walking to his mom's house from school was always a risk.

Not because of cars, no, because of-

"Hey Duval, whatcha listening to? The usual gay shit?"

Getting slammed into the side of a building, Nick could hear cackling and high-fives.

He stood back up and tried to just keep walking, but he got pushed again. Not hard enough to fall, luckily. "Duval! We're talking to you!"

Sick of it, Nick swung around and clocked the boy in the jaw. He was on the ground in seconds.

He always did this. There was five, six of them and one of him.

After getting a hit to his shoulder and jaw when he didn't quite dodge and throwing some more punches, he ran.

Something else he was good at.

He dodged through alleys between buildings, shaking them one at a time. He ended up alone in his favorite spot- the roof of Teaful. The giant sign, including a cup of tea, hid him from view.

He caught his breath, wiping blood off of his bruised knuckles. It wasn't a concern his mother finding out; she liked it when he got into fights. Something about it being 'manly.'

Sighing, he leaned his head against the giant sign. Every day he cursed himself for even agreeing to try on that damn shirt.

It had messed up everything.

He refused to give himself the privilege of being happy when he ruined it for his parents. The closest he'd come to a smile all of these years was a grimace of pain.

Putting his earbuds back in, he looked at what song was playing.

-if you look in the mirror and don't like what you see, you can find out firsthand what it's like to be me-

He loved how relatable My Chemical Romance was. Well... maybe it shouldn't be relatable, but he could relate to it.

Figuring he was safe, he climbed from the roof and continued walking home.

The song was ending when it caught his eye.

The flash of fabric.

Pausing his music, he got closer to the window. Shouldn't it have gone out of style or something?

The shirt, his shirt that had started all of this, was sitting innocently in the window display.

He walked into the store, hardly realizing what he was doing.

"Can I help you, young man?" an employee asked.

"Um, this just caught my eye. It looks like something my sister would love," he lied, examining the tag. He could buy it.

"That's so sweet! Do you know what size she is?"

No, but I know what size I am. "Small."

He didn't know what he was doing. What was wrong with him? He was just going to mess it all up again.

(The End. by My Chemical Romance)