| 14 | This Is More Than I Bargained For

***

"Way to be subtle," I grunted, stopping in the middle of the hall. I wiped my nose with my sleeve, still surprised to see the blood was still gushing. I licked my lips; it tasted metallic.

Ty shook his head, "Knowing that you're an underage smoker, I had a hunch you might've broken his heart or something."

"To tell you the truth, I had practically nothing to do with him ditching school. On that night, I was hanging out with Brice and one thing led to another—"

"You? Hanging out with Brice?" Ty interrupted, struck by awe. "That complete asshole of a person?"

"He's not a bad guy, don't assume things. Now shut up and let me finish," I snapped. "We were watching movies in his room when I got a phone call from Jason to meet him at Cemetery Drive. I was uncomfortable, and Brice knew that, so he dragged me away. Simple as that. Wouldn't you want someone to be your wingman and save you from an awkward confrontation?"

"That's the truth? Jason told me a completely different story."

I nearly choked at those words, "What did he tell you?"

"He told me that Brice sucker punched him and dragged you away as if he was your doll," Ty explained. "Somethin' along the lines of that, but it was gruesome. Honestly, most of us thought you were murdered by Brice or some shit. Rumors spread like wildfire; when you both were absent for a long time, everyone had thought that you were dead and Brice was on the run from the cops. But then, when that photo showed up—"

"Photo? What photo?"

"The photo of you and Brice on that roof with the caption faggot or something—"

I grimaced, rubbing my temples out of habit, "People at our school saw it?"

"Yeah, I mean it's cute but whoever made the caption is a complete asshole."

I curse, kicking the nearby locker with my foot. There's a dent in it now, but hell if I care. I groan in frustration, holding my head, "Fuck!"

"What do you mean fuck? It's just one photo," Ty grasps me by the shoulders, preventing me from breaking anything else. I don't know what got over me. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the moment, or perhaps I felt as if it would be better to explain everything, but I began to confess everything that occurred when I had moved from Wisconsin. Ty stood there, nodding his head and listening.

"Seems to me that your parents don't want to ruin your family's reputation," Ty murmurs. "That's why they're not looking for you. If they called the police, surely headlines will be all over the place."

"But if their reputation is ruined, then surely I'm going to pay for it!" I argued, biting back tears. It's impossible, this can't be happening to me. "I bet it was Shelby who posted that photo!"

"That's reasonable, she has a reason to ruin everything for you both."

"Will you help me confront Shelby?"

Ty's quiet for a moment, pausing in his tracks. He leans against one of the lockers, biting his lower lip while thinking, "I'll help you under one condition."

"And that condition is?"

"We stay out of Adam's line of sight."

"Deal. Now, let's go to the nurse. I'm still bleeding, y'know."

His eyes lock on the sight of my bloody nose and he gags, tugging me down the hall and towards the nurse's office. I continuously wipe the dripping blood with my shirt. From a third person perspective, it looked as if I had just ate someone. Thank god no one else was wandering in the hallways.

***

Apparently being whacked in the face by a ball conditions you to be released from school early.

I'm uncomfortably laying on one of the nurse's beds, anticipating doom to come fourth. I sigh exasperatedly, knowing that I'd have to face both my mother and father. This is it; this is the end of my journey. After the shit I pulled, surely they'll send me away to a preparatory school for the rest of my days. Having a killjoy as a son must be a pain. None of my actions are truly justifiable.

"I've called both of your parents and they couldn't pick up," the nurse frowned. "Do you have any relatives that will be able to pick you up?"

"No," I lie through my teeth. "Could I just stay in school?"

"Sweetheart—" I cringe at the name, "—are you sure? You might have a concussion from the ball that hit you."

Concussion? I feel perfectly fine!

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I insist while touching the gauze pad on my face.

"Well, if you insist. Here, I'll call a student to escort you," the lady heads towards the telephone. "Do you have anyone in particular you'd like or—"

"Brice Solace," I burst out whole-heartedly.

She nods and dials a number, to which I'm assuming is either towards the office or gym class. I gaze out the window to the side of me, watching the clouds turn gray and ominous. Looks like it's going to rain later. I sigh exasperatedly, like normal, and turn onto my side.

My nose isn't feeling any better and I curse the one who pummeled me with the damn ball. Sure, it could've been an accident, but if you're throwing it with that much force, it seems to be done on purpose. The stinging feeling hasn't left; it's less painful and more irritating. There's dried blood clogged in my nose as well. I'm too afraid to blow it out, however, in case it starts bleeding again.

It takes a couple minutes before Brice arrives. He's panting, flushed and bright red, most likely from the game of dodgeball in gym class. The nurse eyes him but chooses not to question him. He rushes to my side, pulling me up from the bed gently. I thank him and take my stuff from his arms.

"You boys be careful now, alright?" She waves to us as we exit her office. Brice drags his feet along the hallway floor, the squeaking noise of his converse heel bouncing off the walls.

"Did Ty say anything to you?"

Under normal circumstances, I would've brushed it off with a truthful response. I digress, I'm normally not a liar, but the hell should I even say? Yeah, I told Ty we're going to confront your abusive ex-girlfriend without telling Adam. I contemplate the repercussions, mostly negative, and attempt to construct a creative lie.

"He asked me about Jason, but I said we had nothing to do with it." Okay, that was decently true. It's not lying if you have some truth sprinkled in there, right? I wipe my sweaty palms on my bloodstained shirt.

"Well, alright, I trust you," Brice shrugs. "Let's head to the locker room. Do you have a spare shirt?"

"I think so," I nod. We both walk in silence.

In truth, the guilt has caught up to me. Jason's a nice guy, generally speaking, but lying? Spreading false rumors? It's a positive consequence that I've found out earlier about his behaviors and that façade of his. Surely no one would anticipate the overall "quiet guy" of the school to be a lying snake. Then again, no one would expect me, some new kid, to be the heir of multiple companies, so I wouldn't blame them.

Falling victim to high school drama seems to be my forte lately. It's like negative tension is being drawn towards me, like I'm some kind of magnetic force. It astonishes me to think all of this could've been avoided if I had just kept my mouth shut.

We enter the boy's locker room in silence. I place my stuff down onto the benches and open my locker. There I find my lavender hoodie as well as the spare gray jeans I kept. I changed, making sure to wipe off the excess blood off my face and body. It would be quite the shame if my hoodie had gotten covered in blood. I turn around and catch Brice's eyes locked onto me.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," I slyly snicker while closing my locker. Brice's face tints a cherry color.

"I was just making sure you wouldn't pass out or something. You did get hit in the face pretty hard," he cooly replies, shrugging. "By the way, Adam threw that ball. I think it was on purpose."

"No wonder. He's probably pissed about the whole Jason situation," I conclude while scoffing. I take out my phone and check the time. The other guys should be heading into the locker room to change soon.

"He'll just have to get over it. You weren't interested in him, after all. Besides, if he pulls that shit again, I'll be sure to pummel him."

"You'll get suspended, Brice."

"I don't care."

A chuckle escapes my lips as I sit back down onto the bench. Brice sits next to me, carefully lifting up my chin and examining my face. He mutters something about the gauze pad, then places his hand down onto his lap. His leg is ecstatic, vigorously moving up and down with impatience. I guess he's looking forward to his next class.

I watch the door swing open and the faces of sweaty students flood into the locker room. It always grossed me out: their putrid smells and unhygienic bodies. The school should at least have showers; it's government funded for fucks sake!

Most of them could care less about some new kid sitting on the benches with a gauze pad on his nose, only making the occasional eye contact and stare, but when it came to Adam, he looked furious. Surely at this point I'm digging my own grave; I'm probably on some sort of "hit-list" belonging to him due to the ridiculous story that Jason told him. Convincing Adam the story has been twisted would be of no use: it's not like he'd believe someone he barely knew anyway. In the end, Jason's lies will eventually catch up to him, it's only just a matter of time. I will not let Adam Dahlberg intimidate me.

It's like we're having a staring contest at this point, and Brice seems to catch notice of this as well. He's still standing at the entrance of the locker room, right in front of the doorway, hands clenched into tight fists and eyes squinted austerely. If this is his tactic of shaming me for what I've supposedly done, he's doing quite the terrible job at it.

The bell eventually rings signaling passing time to travel to our next classes. I'm quick to leave, making sure to give Adam a shove with my shoulder. He's taken off guard and rushes towards the back of the locker room to change his clothes. Serves him right to be late to class.

***

I don't meet up with Ty until the end of the day. I make another excuse to Brice claiming that I'm staying after school to help out a couple of my teachers. He understands and gives me a kiss on the forehead, along with his phone number and spare keys to the treehouse.

"We'll have to be quick about this," Ty affirms monotonously as we head down Quarterly Street into the downtown area. "Adam expects me to be at Jason's house no later than four."

"How do you know where Shelby lives?" I ponder aloud.

"My mom is friends with her mom. They live in an apartment complex on the sixth floor. If she's not there, she'll probably be working at the library."

"She works at the library?"

"Yeah, I know. It's really surprising considering her personality."

I don't expect her to confess anything, but asking her questions does give me some solace towards the situation at hand. I'm more nervous than angry: one wrong move and my whole world could come tumbling down. It's going to be as simple as requesting her to delete the photo; nothing more, nothing less. If I'm lucky enough, no one has reposted it or shown it to my parents.

All of this is more than I could bargain for.

We take a stroll around the town in nothing but complete silence. Ty has a calm exterior and appears to be the introverted type. Yet, he's blabbering to me about the history of the town and every good place to dine. I respond in conversation once and a while as an attempt to be polite. We don't arrive at Shelby's apartment complex until twenty minutes later (we passed it multiple times, but since Ty wasn't paying attention, he didn't notice that we were walking in complete circles around the same block).

Since the elevator was broken, we jog up six flights of stairs onto the corresponding floor. Ty's out of breath by the time we arrive at her front door, wheezing and barely being able to speak. He has to take a couple sips from his water bottle before he's able to catch his breath. I take a deep breath and ring the doorbell.

A woman, who I assume to be Shelby's mother, greets us with a friendly smile. "Hello boys! What can I do for the both of you today?"

"We're here to see Shelby," Ty replies. "We're both of her—friends."

Never thought I'd hear the words "Shelby" and "friend" in the same sentence.

Like any mother, she's quite delighted to have visitors over and invites us inside. We both awkwardly wait in anticipation on a saggy leather couch next to an elderly cat. Ty's tense, clearly afraid of the animal sleeping next to him. Well, upon closer inspection, I don't think that cat is sleeping.

Shelby shuffles out of her room wearing a pastel pink robe and glasses. She's smiling at first, but then pales up as if she sees a ghost. I intentionally decide to make eye contact with her. If I'm lucky enough, I'll be able to intimidate a girl that is the same height as me.

"What the hell are you both doing here?" She whisper-shouts while shuffling closer towards us.

"More like why the hell did you post this photo!" I quietly exclaim while whisking out my phone. The yooying photo is revealed to her in all its glory. I anticipate her being shocked, but instead her face is plastered with a confused expression. Her eyebrows scrunch together and eyes squint, almost as if she was thinking deeply.

"I never heard of yooying before," she mutters, frowning. "I didn't even leave my house to do stuff besides school, I was grounded. You can even ask my mom."

"Then—who else would post this photo?" I huff, setting my phone down onto my own lap.

"Like hell if I'd know. I wouldn't ruin your little relationship with Brice after he broke up with me over text, that's just petty," Shelby rolls his eyes with disinterest. "I could care less about the boy, he's not my responsibility now."

"Who else could it be?" Ty repeats while standing up.

"Again, I don't know. I could care less about your god damn—"

"Yeah, thanks for the information, Shelby," I thank her while rushing towards the door. Ty follows after me, sighing with relief that he's away from the dead cat. He slams the door behind him and we head down the hallway.

"I have a pretty good feeling it's Jason," I announce, shaking my head.

Ty's lip curve downwards into a saddened hue, "You're right, all evidence points towards him. I can't believe he'd do such a thing over a relationship."

"Didn't you say you were going to his house?"

"Yeah. Wait, are you implying—"

"Look, I know you don't want to believe he's the one responsible for that photo, but I need to talk to him."

There's brief silence between us. Ty pauses on the staircase, leaning against the railing with despondency plastered all over him. "Yeah, definitely not a good idea."

"Why not?" I argue, shaking my head. "Come on, Ty."

I'm perfectly capable of walking to Jason's house myself, due to being there multiple times, but I've forgotten the exact address. Now, don't get me wrong, I could find it if I could just retrace my steps, but going with Ty would be more convenient. Plus, if anything goes sour between Jason and I, Ty's there to monitor, which is an added bonus.

"Adam's going to be there," he bites his lower lip.

"So? Doesn't he deserve to know what Jason's truly like? I think he should know what's going on instead being brainwashed under false accusations." Ty's acting a bit strange. I haven't known him for very long, but it's quiet obvious. The slouched posture, his shaky hands, the biting of his lip, and the avoidance of eye contact scream some sort of secrecy occurring.

"Look, I just really don't want Adam to get mad," Ty takes a deep breath and concludes his statement.

"He won't get mad at the truth." That's a lie. Adam could showcase ignorance and deny the truth.

"Look, we agreed to keep this out of Adam's line of sight and I kept my end of the deal to bring you to Shelby's house and confront her. You keep your end of the deal. Bye, Seto."

Ouch. That's hard hitting.

Ty bolts down the stairs faster than I've ever seen him run before. I chase after him, but ended up losing him as soon as I exited the apartment complex. I shove my hands into my pockets and curse under my breath. Not only am I not getting that damn photo taken down, but I'm also left in a part of town I've never been to. There's no way I'm asking Brice to pick me up, so I google the number for a taxi then gaze at the nearby street sign. I dial the number.

"Yeah, hey. I'm going to need a taxi to pick me up at Arkney Boulevard."

~

Author's Note:

It's been nearly four months since I updated this story, but I'm back!