He's Just a Skater Boy (boyxboyxboy)

Chapter 6: Meet the Prefect

The next day I woke up bright and early and nearly fell asleep snow-white style in my damn breakfast cereal. I could have slept till tomorrow but I had a shit-show to get to and you know I wouldn't miss that.

Of course now I was going to the meeting so I was heading off early so hopefully this would mean I would not encounter Atlas or anyone that was impressed enough by his money that he would have enough sway to send them to beat my delicate peaches to pulp.

I put on a fresh shirt, got to be presentable for the occasion, I don't get scolded by teachers every day I promise. When I was pulling on my school trousers though I noticed something in the back pocket and cringed.

Still had his phone.

When I pulled it out I groaned. It wasn't pretty. The screen was cracked, a part of it had come straight off and the back of the phone had come off. Who knew these buns of steel could do that to a phone.

Whatever. I'm sticking with my original statement. It's not my fault.

You better not be rolling your eyes at me right now. You'll catch these hands if you are, test me.

The idiot chased me, if he hadn't been such a bastard about it and hadn't insisted on laying down some damage to Amir because the tiny twerp ran off with his phone I could have just handed it back no problem and we wouldn't both have ended up breathless in an alleyway.

And yes, I blame him for the reaction of my... lower extremities, as well. If he had politely asked me whether it would be alright to pin me up against the wall I might have equally politely declined, I may have even explained even more politely why exactly it might be a problem for me to be thrown up against the wall and ground on by an exceptionally handsome, if ugly in character, probably homophobic, bully. You never know and you can't prove otherwise.

I took my skateboard to school. The pedestrian path for most of the way was uneven and cracking so I usually just skated on the side of the road which was surprisingly spacious for central Camroe. Where it got busy it also began to go uphill, steeply, I just took my skateboard under my arm and started walking.

As per usual I got that horrible feeling walking up to the school gates as though I was preparing for a long day of arguments and stress.

People didn't get it. It was stressful doing nothing, it would be much easier if I worked and cared about school but my irritation with the teachers pushed me away from that.

I would never be the one to explain to them that to control me the most simple way of achieving this would just be to stop. Stop hounding me, stop cornering me, stop chasing me down or complaining about every little thing. Stop with the pasteurisation, stop obsessing over 'treating me like any other student' when it clearly doesn't work and you're not bloody managing it.

Not only would they never accept that advice but I could never admit something like that out loud. That all I really needed was space, space and quiet.

The guard opened the gates when he saw me coming and gave me a solid glare as I walked on through. I always wondered if that was just for me or it was the unfortunate makeup of his face. Either way, I didn't like him.

There it was in big bright white letters on the front of the main school building.

C E N T R A L      L E I G H S T O N E
S E C O N D A R Y      S C H O O L

I was just a few minutes early so I walked up the stairs slowly as I approached the room homeroom took place in and prepared myself.

Prepared myself to get angry and want to walk out but not to walk out and to pretend to be totally on board with them treating me like a poor misguided soul who they were angels for trying to save but never really expected to do anything more with his life then god forbid work in some lowly position like serving food, you know those evil drug addicted goblins who juggle your five entres and six drinks on a tray as they bring it to you with a smile?