The Alpha and the Outcast (BoyxBoy/LGBT)

Chapter 4

Hello! Thank you so much for all of the votes and comments on the last chapter, it really does mean so much that you all take the time to do that. Motivates me, too ;)

Warning: this chapter does contain self-harm, if that's triggering for anyone. It's very brief, though.

I'd like to dedicate this to samsam, for being the first to comment on the last chapter :)

Votes/comments would be so awesome! Enjoy the chapter :)

Pic is of Eimear

[Nick's POV]

After I left the cafeteria, I broke into a light jog, weaving in between the few confused students still left in the hallways, careful to avoid bumping up against them. I was positive that I had only a few minutes before Eimear was after me, Nate, her ever-faithful lap-dog, not far behind. She'd probably nag me about my 'lack of manners and social skills', and ask me why exactly I didn't want to go on a date with Malcolm.

It was true that I'd never been out on a date, but Eimear didn't know why that was, or at least not the full truth of it. Eimear and Nate honestly thought that my father had stopped at the beatings- they thought the same of the bullies at our old school. Let me just say one thing- I could say that I was a virgin, but that would not, strictly speaking, be true.

Yes, my life sucked. But I'd always managed to keep just how much it sucked (literally, when Johnny and Arthur had only had a few minutes between classes) to myself. Before the police had come for my father aftr he beat that man up at the bar, I'd already attempted suicide about three times.

The first time, I hadn't taken enough pills and woke up covered in my own vomit. The second time, my father caught me and beat the shit out of me, telling me he'd give me a real reason to want to die. The third time, Eimear and Nate had walked in on me bleeding out from my wrists on the floor of the school bathroom, and had the school nurse call an ambulance. The last time had been two weeks before my father's arrest, barely a month ago.

The deep cuts I'd made in my arms from wrist to elbow had yet to scar over, but they were far from the only self-inflicted wounds on my body. I was something of an artist, and my bruised skin had always been my canvas. Where others had tattoos, I had scars- to commemorate everything from the first time my father forced himself on me to the first time he'd brought along all of his drinking buddies to have a go at me too.

I could never date Malcolm, or indeed anyone else, although that idea felt grossly wrong all of a sudden, because I was a shattered wreck of humanity, held together by a wall of sarcastic bullshit and jokes made in bad taste. I was too focused on doing my best to hold myself together to date, especially when I knew that all of my best efforts would be in vain anyway and I'd no longer be able to hold on to this fragile thread of what only the most generous, naive sould could call a life.

Yes, I know. Poor me.

It didn't take very long to find an exit, and I made my way across the school carpark over to a grassy area, throwing myself down to the ground underneath a large willow tree. It's long branches nearly kissed the ground, the bright green leaves hanging to the ground from the branches like a curtain, almost completely shielding me from outside view. Perfect.

Lying flat on my back with my knees bent, looking up to where the branches of the tree grew out from the wide trunk, I did my best to clear my thoughts, but nothing was working. In my attempt to remind myself why I was unable to date, all of my worst memories were making their way to the fornt of my mind, out of the small box I'd shoved them into when I'd moved with Eimear and Nate. Horrific things, memories I'd probably never be able to forget.