Finally, an update! Thanks so much for everyone's patience. I really hope the chapter was worth the wait. Brett Larson (AKA actor Jordan Calloway from Riverdale) is in the media today, as well as Mirror by Lil Wayne and Bruno Mars. Enjoy the chapter!

There's one lesson in life that I never learned from. Getting my hopes up only to be let down has been a common occurrence, yet I always kept thinking things would be different.

    Bradley didn't come over during the weekend, but at least he called to let me know. He apologized, said he was sorry, all that jazz, and of course, I put on a tough front, saying it was fine. There's always the next time, I had told him. Although, I was probably just fooling myself.

First period Government, AKA our only time to hang out during school, was taken away when Brett Larson joined our class due to schedule changes. Naturally, Bradley swapped seats to go sit with his friend, leaving me on my own.

To be fair, he didn't have a choice, but it still hurt. Even though Bradley was one of the nicest people at school, he still cared a lot about what his friends thought of him. The smallest move could turn the whole school against you, as sad as it is to realize. Everyone moves at the same beat at Cromwell High, and the outcasts are vastly outnumbered.

Bradley catches my attention as soon as he walks into class. Our eyes meet right away, the smallest spark of recognition ignites in his blue eyes. I smile lightly at him, but before he can return it, Brett walks in behind him. When Bradley doesn't move, Brett pats him on the shoulder, making him snap out of his trance.

He glances behind him, most likely to make sure Brett didn't catch the exchange.

They sit down only a couple rows in front of me, so I strain my ears to hear what they are talking about.

Brett is the first to speak loud enough to where I can listen in. "You ready for the game tonight?"

A heavy sigh leaves Bradley. "I'm just praying that Rodney and Austin will be able to keep themselves in check around Berkley. That guy knows just how to rile both of them up."

"You think either of them will do something stupid?"

"Austin's a little less of a wild card these days, but you never know with Rodney." Bradley shrugs. "I'm just hoping for the best."

Brett jabs his elbow into Bradley's arm and chuckles when he starts to rub the sore spot. The action earns Brett a heavy glare.

"Don't look at me like that. You haven't told me who you're taking to the Homecoming Dance tomorrow night."

Bradley glances at me for a second and I quickly look down at my notes.

"Hey, Harry." Brett's voice brings my attention back in their direction. "Can you like not eavesdrop for a second?"

"Dude," Bradley says, "Leave it alone."

"No." Brett turns to his friend. "I mean, he's been looking over at us since we got here."

"I said leave it," Bradley huffs. "You wanted to know who I was going with, right? Well, I'm going stag this year."

"The hell you are." From the corner of my eye, I see Brett pull out his phone. "I got you, man. You're not going to your senior Homecoming alone."

"Larson, come on-"

"Too late." His voice is smug. "Already sent."

Bradley sighs. "Who'd you set me up with?"

Brett's phone buzzes loudly on the table and he smirks when he reads the text. "Congratulations, you're officially going to the dance with Charlette Whittemore."

When my eyes shoot back in Brett's direction, that asshole's irritatingly flawless smirk is aimed right at me. There is no doubt he has sold his soul to the devil in exchange for his model-like looks. Or maybe he is the devil himself.

Bradley finds me alone in the halls later. His first instinct is to apologize for Brett's behavior in class, even though I know he has no control over his friend any more than I have control over Whittney.

"I'm actually glad that my sister is going with you." When I get a confused look in return, I continue. "She deserves to actually have a date who's only goal isn't to sleep with her by the end of the night."

Bradley smiles. "It's too bad I can't take the person I actually want to go with."

Heat shrouds my cheeks as I look up at him. His dimples are on display for me while he holds my gaze and a lump forms in my throat. I try clearing it, but the lump just won't go away.

"Um-" Bradley seems at a loss for words, contradicting his usual quick-witted self. For a second, I swear he was blushing. "I'm, uh, pretty sure they wanted to go with me too. I mean, if I didn't get my signals crossed."

I chew on my lip, afraid that if I'd open my mouth to speak, I'll say the wrong thing. Although silence is the safest option, courage gives me a bite in the ass and I release my lip.

"Any girl would be more than lucky to go to the dance with you." My smile is delicate when faking my innocence.

Bradley's expression changes dramatically when his eyes glaze over. The thumping of my heart is like a drum between my ears when he takes a step closer. I quickly glance from side to side, checking to see if anyone's around, but the coast is clear. The bell must have already rung, but I was too distracted to hear it.

"You and I both know I don't want to go with a girl." Bradley continues to close the distance between us until the cool metal of the locker stops me from backing up any further.

The calculus book in my hands works as the only barricade between us and in combination with the blood boiling underneath my skin, I can't breathe. I feel like I need my inhaler, although I know this isn't an asthma attack. The heat spreads throughout my whole body, but mostly in my lower region.

"Who do you want to go with then?" My throaty voice is just barely above a whisper when our eyes interlock.

I lick my lips, suddenly feeling dehydrated, and Bradley's unrelenting stare trails down to where they split when I gasp. One hand gently squeezes my arm while the other rests on the locker just a few inches from my head, giving him some leverage when leaning closer.

Hot, minty breath fans my mouth and my clammy hands tighten into fists to keep from shaking. His gentle fingers trace my jaw, sending shivers through all my nerve endings, but just before our lips can meet, he's torn from me.

Whittney's eyes narrow in my direction after he releases the blonde. "The fuck is this?"

I'm pinned down by Whittney's glare until his forehead connects with Bradley's, both of them seeming ready to strike if either one of the two makes a move. The look in Whittney's eyes intensifies as if it is some kind of warning and he pushes himself away with a grunt.

Glancing first at Bradley's miffed expression and then at Whittney storming off, the choice has always been simple, but today it is almost a coin toss.

"Whittney, wait!" My voice is desperate as I chase him down the hall after I drop my book on the floor. When I try to grab his arm, he shakes me off. "Come on, man. Don't do this."

"Don't do what?" he growls as we turn the corner.

An exasperated breath breaks through my lips. "Don't just walk away, pretending you didn't see anything."

"There was nothing to see." Whittney swiftly faces me, forcing me to suddenly stop in my tracks. He takes a couple of steps forward, brows furrowing as his mouth turns grim. There's a fierce look in his eyes that makes me step back when it turns into a daunting glare. "Am I right?"

I lower my gaze, squeezing my eyes shut when I hear him sighing heavily. "You're right." My lips are moving before I can stop myself. "It was nothing."

Whittney scoffs. "You're unbelievable."

Confusion hits me like a brick wall. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw it. You know that I saw it." His point is still escaping me, my blank stare reflecting in his bitter gaze. "Have a fucking backbone, Hare."

"Okay." I say it with ease, but my heart is beating harder and faster than it was with Bradley. "So, what now?"

"What now?" Whittney smirks. All emotion is wiped from his eyes. "You're a fucking faggot, Harry. What you're gonna do now is leave me the fuck alone, you got that?"

An uneasy feeling settles in the deepest pit of my stomach. I can barely swallow because of the lump in my throat that has only gotten worse. Tears threaten to blur my vision when his words completely sink in, but I try my best to blink them away.

"Whitt, please." I try reaching out to him again, but he shoves me hard and I fall on my back. The wind is completely knocked out of me. I groan when propping myself up with my forearm.

"Don't touch me!" His wide eyes look guilt-ridden, but his words were said with so much conviction. "Just... Just stay the hell away from me."

I call after him, but my voice is too weak to reach his ears.

Charlette was very wrong. Whittney doesn't like me and now that he knows what I am, there's no telling what he'll do next.

***

Another chapter down! Next chapter we dive into the Homecoming party. Those of you who have read BMR know where this is going, and those of you who haven't, you can always start reading Behind My Reputation to find out ahead of time!

I really hope the chapter was worth the wait, and please don't forget to click on that star in the corner if the chapter was deserving! Maybe even a comment if you're feeling generous. (:

Until next time,

TheWriterD