The Little Things [Book 1]

Chapter Twenty-One: Offside

A/N: I mentioned this in the disclaimers, but it's worth mentioning again, Trigger Warning: depiction of a panic attack. Personally, I admit, writing this was mentally exhausting if you are sensitive to this kind of content read with discretion. 

Thomas sat down by his friends, greeting everyone, and slightly lingering on Dean and Julie who were sitting glued to each other. They were sickeningly sweet, he had come to realize. Thankfully, they weren't making out in front of them non-stop. They only shared a few quick kisses, here and there. Mostly, they just hugged or teased each other.

"If Mrs Coleman wants a complete essay, during soccer season and within a week she can go write it herself. I barely have time to study for all the bullshit tests and she demands an essay?" Bryan said with a huff and fluffed his already messy brown hair.

"Oh, poor Bryan. How can you even handle everything?" Rachel mocked him, blowing a bubble with her chewing gum. "Just imagine having a girlfriend on top of that. You'd die of exhaustion".

Dean, Thomas and Blake all shared a look and tried to swallow the urge to laugh. Dean was the only one not able to contain himself.

"Instant death," he muttered between laughing and Bryan, who sat next to him, elbowed him in the ribs. Letting go of Julie, Dean started playfully wrestling with Bryan.

"What's going on?" Julie asked an equally confused Rachel. When she shrugged, they both turned to Thomas.

"Do you know what that's about?" Rachel asked him and at once he looked down, suddenly interested in his lunch.

"No clue," he muttered and jumped when he felt a hand land on his shoulder. The boys who were fighting stopped and turned to look behind Thomas.

"Mind if I join you?" Mark asked and Thomas fought the urge to blush.

"No, not at all," Rachel responded at once, pulling away a bit so that Mark could sit between her and Thomas. "You look better. Your bruises are almost completely gone," she told him with an inviting smile. Mark nodded at her, not putting himself through the need to explain the covering up again.

As the conversation started to flow again, with Bryan being again mocked for his lack of romantic life, Mark noticed that Thomas was rather silent. With the corner of his eye, he saw that Thomas was keeping his head down, not even acknowledging him. Was he still upset about the other night?

"Are you alright?" he asked in a hushed tone, turning his head a little bit towards Thomas.

"Um, yeah... I'm fine," he replied and turned his head to look at Mark. "Just tired".

"Didn't sleep well?" The concern was evident in Mark's voice.

"Haven't slept well for the past month or so," Thomas said with a bitter laugh. Mark frowned and urged Thomas to go on with a slight tap of his thigh against his. "Been dealing with something..."

Mark didn't need to hear anything else. He got it. When he was first coming to terms with his own sexuality he had had trouble sleeping too. The panic attacks that woke him up every now and then also had made it hard for him, but he didn't think Thomas went through something like that.

"Do you understand anything?" Dean asked Mark, snapping him out of his thoughts and confusing him in the process.

"Understand anything about...?" Mark asked back with a raised brow.

"About integrals. Math," Thomas explained and that made Mark notice that all eyes were on him.

"Gays aren't good at math," Mark said with a shrug. "Well, there are exceptions. But I'm not one of those freaks".

"What?" Blake asked with utter confusion clouding his features.

"Anyone who's good at math is a freak. That's a fact," Mark said and leaned back. Everyone started laughing, except for Thomas, which caused Mark to frown.

"He loves math," Dean said, pointing at Thomas, who was shrinking in his seat, with a grimace. Now Mark turned his body completely towards Thomas.

"What's wrong with you?"

The question was so genuine that no one managed to stop from laughing out loud. Thomas scowled at Mark and pushed him back, which resulted in Mark bumping against Rachel.

"Hey!" she yelled out and softly shoved Mark off of her.

"I'm sorry; someone's a dickhead, hold up cutie," Mark told her and pulling up his foot, his sole connected with Thomas's hip and he pushed him off his seat and to the ground.

While laughter echoed from around the table, and a few from the tables near them, Mark leaned over and looked down at Thomas. He took an innocent and endearing expression and flashed Thomas with a sweet smile.

"You need a hand?" he asked and Thomas huffed in pain. Squinting up at Mark, he gave him his middle finger and stood up on his own.

"You're fucking hilarious, huh?" Thomas growled at him and was about to sit down in his seat again. Mark didn't waste a second. Since he hadn't set his foot down, once again he pushed Thomas off.

"Fucker!" Thomas yelled as he was going down again and even louder laughter erupted. His friends -at this point- were crying from laughter.

"Please, stop, it's starting to hurt!" Dean said, placing a hand on his abdomen and taking deep breaths. Julie next to him, laughing the least about the whole thing between Mark and Thomas, smiled at her boyfriend and reached over to pat his back.

Proud with his actions, Mark extended his hand to help Thomas up. Thomas eyed the hand for a second, noticing the bulky rings he has on his pointer and ring finger, and finally he grabbed it. A wicked smile split his face and with his other hand he grabbed Mark from the wrist and pulled him down. Mark could hear laughter coming from people but his focus was ripped away from that.

He wasn't sure what triggered it. No- he knew. It had been Thomas's hand wrapping around his wrist. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know. For a split second he had seen William crazed expression before his eyes and then a wave of panic had ruptured from his chest out to his fingertips.

He tried to focus on his grounding techniques. Counting down from one hundred; the five-four-three-two-one technique; his mind was working too fast for him to focus. His sense of hearing was taken over by a light buzzing and the loud thumbing of his own heartbeat. He had pulled back from Thomas, but he could still see him.

The moment Thomas's eyes fell on Mark his smile froze and crumbled away. Panic. Thomas was muttering something. No- he was saying something. He was speaking loudly, but Mark couldn't listen to him. He couldn't hear him over the goddamn buzzing. The chills, alongside the trembling, were getting more and more intense and out of control.

"Mark!" Thomas yelled, his voice just barely reaching him. Reaching out with his arm, Thomas attempted to grab Mark from the shoulder, but at once Mark flinched back.

"Don't fucking touch me!" he yelled out and kicked Thomas away.

Fire engulfed his lungs and he realized he wasn't able to breathe. Each breath he tried to take was violently shoved out of his lungs and he ended up choking and couching. Grasping for air. Air.

Pain and fear brought tears to his eyes and he found no reason to hold them in. Choking and coughing and breathing in so sharp, that little air got in his lungs. There's a knot in his throat and he just barely managed to turn around and throw up what little had in his stomach.

Now more tears were spilling out and his loud sobs sounded throughout the room. Behind all the buzzing and throbbing he could recognize someone trying to talk to him; he could hear worried whispers; he could hear laughs and mocks. He didn't care. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered.

"Come on, you got this. Come on, you're going to be okay. I promise it will go away. You're going to be okay. Please calm down. Please". The words that left his own lips did little to his state, but he kept on repeating them, until finally his sobs started to die down and he could make out who was crouching in front of him.

"It's okay, son. You're going to be okay," Principal Chevrolet told him, a wrinkled smile trying to reassure him more.

Oh, how badly he wanted to believe that.