Gay, Hell Yeah I Am! (BoyxBoy)

Chapter four

Picture of Aiden to the >>>>>>>

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Continued in Kyles P.O.V

I panicked when I saw Aiden stalking towards me lazily, his long legs taking menacing strides forward, closing the distance between us with every step he took. He was a few feet in front of me when I snapped out of my terror and pushed at the back door with as much force as I could muster. It didn't budge. I pushed again, harder this time, and got the same results.

Shit, shit, shit, I had to get out of here.

When I looked to check where Aiden was I was scared shit less when I saw him standing directly behind me with a smirk on his face. I quivered in fear a little and faced him, one hand still resting on the door, the other on my chest, tightly clutching my shirt.

By now everyone in the cafeteria had quieted, staring at us with anticipation in their eyes. None of them bothering to stop what was about to happen.

I stared into Aiden's brown eyes seeing hatred, cruelty, and amusement as he watched me squirm in fear. I tore my eyes away from his, and then shot them around the room searching for another means of escape. The cafeteria was crowded, jam-packed full of students, who all blocked the exits.

Guess escaping is not an option.

On to Plan B.

Begin...

I looked at Aiden and resolve flowed through me. I straightened my back and stared him down, plastering a fake smirk of confidence that said I could beat you up any second if I wanted to. Not that I could though.

"What do you want?" I asked sharply.

"What I want is for you to get your faggot ass out of here before I make you," he threatened eyes narrowing into slits.

I rolled my eyes at the threat faking nonchalant, but inside I was terrified of what he might do. But I knew if I showed him how afraid I was, or showed him how much what he did to me hurt, it would only lead to making him bully me more then he already does.

"Fuck you Aiden," I spat out at him, and prepared for the worst. I knew provoking him was not in my best interest, but I was beyond caring about what's good or bad for me to do.

I didn't see it happen, but felt it when he punched me in the face. Searing pain shot through me and I stumbled back, clutching my right cheek. I could taste the metallic taste of blood and winced when my cheek flared with pain.

Anger shot through me, giving me all the courage I needed to take a swing at him. My fist connected with the side of Aiden's face making him stumble back from the impact. His hand flew to his face once he regained his balance, and when he pulled it back a small smear of blood was painted on his finger from the split lip he had. I stared at the blood, suddenly mesmerized by it.

I watched as blood swelled and dripped from the small cut on his lip, falling down and splashing on the floor, leaving a small red stain on its pearly white tiled surface. As more droplets of blood accompanied the one on the floor I became nauseous. I had never liked the sight of blood; it always reminded me of all the unpleasant events that occurred in the past.

I was dimly aware of shouts being thrown around. I focused on what they were saying for a split second and smiled bitterly. They were encouraging the fight, shouting the words 'fight, fight, fight' over and over again in glee. Typical teenage behavior, I would expect no less from them, those sons of bitches.

Another voice, different from the students, resonated throughout the cafeteria, but was quickly drowned out a second later by everyone else's. I realized who it was immediately and stopped my actions, even when I saw that Aiden had recovered and turned to me again, hatred in his eyes.