A Bleacher Boy's Perspective (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 3

Football players are stupid. Especially ones by the name Derek Williams. Those are the worse. Who does he think he is dragging me into janitor closets, stealing my shirt, and violating my privacy like that? And to make matters worse he probably thinks I'm getting abused now. Which means he'll either tell all his teammates, go to my dad, or he'll be the perfect goody two shoes that he is and he'll try and get me to talk about it. And honestly I would take either of the first two options before I'd let him try and wiggle himself into my life.

He is overreacting anyways. It's a big bruise and I get that but 1. it's none of his business 2. it's none of his business and 3. it's none of his business.

So if you don't already get the picture I'm drawing out for you Derek Williams needs to keep his thoughts to himself. Life already pretty much sucks with the whole dilemma with dad. Which speak of devil is walking right my way with a very stern, concerned look on his face.

"Am I going crazy or did I just hear from a bunch of students that you got pulled into the janitor's closet?" he asks as his forehead wrinkles in confusion. Well jeez dad what did you think happened?

"No." I lie, plastering a fake smile. It's not like he needs to know. And I can only imagine what he would think if I told him it was Derek who had put me there.

His face hesitantly resumes to its neutral position showing that he accepts my answer. "Well, good. I was worried that some girl had you wrapped around her finger." he smirks, shooting me a wink. Oh, goodness.

"No, we wouldn't want that." I grimace, nodding in fake agreement. "There's no girl in my life." Well that's probably the truest thing I've said all day to my father.

"Indeed. And before I forget I'd like to talk to you about football. I was just thinking about this morning and you seemed like you were really enjoying yourself. I think I could pull a couple strings and maybe we could get you in this year? What do you think?" he asks, guiding me to the side of the hall where it was more private.

He doesn't honestly think... No. Come on, I think to myself. How do you tell your father whose life practically revolves around football that you have absolutely no interest in it whatsoever? There's no book on that. Believe me I've checked.

"Dad, I just don't think I'm ready to do any sport right now." I shrug uncomfortably unsure of any other way to put it.

"Oh." he says disappointed "I guess we'll just keep working on it then?" he asks with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

"Of course." I smile back, glancing down the hallway where Derek is watching us curiously from beside the janitor's closet, completely unnoticed by my dad.

"That's the spirit!" he yells ecstatically, moving his hand from his side to give me another clap on the shoulder.

"Oh, look at the time gotta run, wouldn't want to be late for class!" I say quickly, pushing his arm away from me before he can make my bruise any worse.

Dad only nods, though I sense a trace of hurt. Sorry dad but you can't always clap me on the back like the rest of your team every time I please you.

I begin to lightly jog in the opposite direction of my dad and towards my first period english class. By the time I was half-way there I start to hear the sound of running footsteps approaching me from behind.

"Stop!" the person calls out, grabbing my shoulder. Turning around to face my follower, I find myself looking at Derek--again.

"Dude, back off." I say jerking my shoulder out of his tight grip, though it comes out more like a whine than anything. I walk towards the door, but just before I can take a single step into the doorway, Derek moves in front of me using both of his hands to block the doorway. "Really?" I complain, trying to squeeze between the space between his arm and leg only to be blocked again.

"I need to talk." he tells me, looking down at me. This might be the first time the guy has actually ever looked me in the eyes. His are green--but not in the traditional sense. They're like a seafoam green, the kinds of eyes that make you want to believe every word he says. I've never really noticed that before and now I really regret that I have.

"I've got to go to class." I tell him, my voice cracking. "Do me a favor and just leave me alone."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Not after what I saw." See? This was what I was worried about.

"I've got to go." I remind him more sternly now, moving to maneuver through his trap.

Lowering his hands, he grabs me by my sides and momentarily lifts me into the air, and turns to lightly press me into a locker. I sink from his hold onto my feet, pinned between his arms. "Stop trying to escape me." he says in an odd combination of sternness and calmness as he lightly presses his body against me.

"I'll scream." I tell him, desperately looking for anyway to get myself out of this uncomfortable position.

He shakes his head. "No, you won't." he says confidently, though he gives me a little bit more space. Thank God.

"Look." I tell him, trying my hardest to avoid looking into his eyes. "I don't have the time to explain to you that what you saw was nothing and I don't want to either. Frankly, it's none of your business and I don't like you."

Derek's face falls at my last few words. "You don't even know me."

I laugh at this, rubbing my face. "I don't think you understand what I'm saying. I don't need to know you. You are just like everyone else on the football team. Fake. Seemingly perfect. Cocky. And for some stupid reason you think that everyone else is your doormat that you can stomp all over."

"If you honestly think that's the kind of person I am, then you must not know me at all. Sure the guys on the team can be asses. And I was an ass for not defending you, but I trust them like my brothers-" he says angrily defending his team.

"Can? Can be asses? What do you call it when they decide to lock Andrew Binks into new and crueler places each week? Just a spur of a moment? You are as fake as they come because somehow you can look my father straight in his eyes and let him think of you as his son. If you were half the man my father thought you are, you wouldn't stand by and watch his actual son get beat up. And second of all how on earth can you trust them like your brothers? As soon as you seem even a little less perfect they'll turn their backs on you. But you're right--you are an ass." I tell him with so much pent up anger that I now stand on the edge of my toes, chest to chest with Derek Williams.

Derek's hands fall from the lockers behind me and he takes a step back, hurt by the words I've said. "All I wanted to do was help you okay?" he says sadly, backing away. "You talk about how I pretend to be this perfect person I'm not." he says stopping, looking over his shoulder at me. "But I think it's you who is pretending. I saw you with your dad and every word you told him was an act. And nothing you say to me can hide that."

With those final-and for some reason painful words Derek tosses me back my shirt and walks straight towards the doors to exit the school.

I didn't do that...did I?

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WOAH GUYS THAT WAS THE MOST RIDICULOUSLY LONG BREAK I HAVE EVER TAKEN.

Please accept my most humble apologizes. I wilL be updating this story much more for those of you who have been waiting for half a century over here xD I really hope you enjoyed the update. Seems to me that Derek revealed something really important to us about Michael *wink wink nudge nudge*. ^.^ anyways I love you all!