*Toby's POV*

        The next day, the final day of our suspension, I wanted to get out of the house, and away from Chris, who was being possibly the biggest dick on the planet. I was just walking around town, not really knowing where I was going, but not really caring either. I was thinking about Dylan, about how he'd cried when I told him how he'd inadvertently stopped me from cutting again. He'd left work early, and we talked for hours. It was truly magical. I didn't tell him that Skylar had punched me in the nose, and for once I was thankful we didn't FaceTime or anything, because my nose was swollen and bruised. It was hideous.
        As I was walking past a McDonald's, I glanced to the side and saw, guess who, Skylar Rollins, sitting there, eating with two other guys that belonged to his scene douchebag group. He saw me, we made eye contact, then he pointed me out to his friends who laughed at my nose and made gestures of breaking each other's noses. Something in me made me walk into the restaurant, and walk up to their table, smiling.
        The three of them tensed up, like they were ready to fight, but that most definitely wasn't why I was here. I kept my eyes glued on Skylar. I drew this courage from the steadfast determination that I wasn't going to let him become another Evan. I was done taking his shit, and I was done being everyone's bitch. I imagined Dylan being able to walk right up to them and say whatever he wanted, anything you could imagine, without being scared at all, and it really helped me steel my nerves.
        "What the fuck do you want?" Skylar said bitterly as I got to the table. By now, there were people all over the restaurant staring at me like I was nuts, but I couldn't get the smile off of my face.
        "You wanted to know why I laughed yesterday." I said, then pulled up my sleeve, showing the countless scars, including the vertical one. All three of them stared at my arm in disgust and disbelief. All the while, I kept smiling. "I laughed because your biggest fear is the one thing I've wanted for years. You're afraid to die, and I just can't fucking wait."
        Needless to say, they were all speechless. Skylar in particular had an odd look on his face- maybe pity?- but I never let the smile fade, as I turned, walked away from their table, walked out of the restaurant, and kept walking to nowhere in particular through town.
        Why was I smiling? Because you celebrate victories with a smile, and this was most definitely a huge victory.

        The next day, Dylan woke me up on time, actually calling me instead of texting like usual.
        "Hello?" I answered, half asleep.
        "Get up sleepy head! You're gonna be late," Dylan chimed cheerfully in my ear. I groaned.
        "I don't wanna," I whined, my eyelids almost too heavy to keep open...
        "HEY!!!" Dylan screamed in my ear through the phone, literally making me fall out of bed in surprise. Apparently, he'd heard the thud, because when I picked the phone back up from where it'd fallen, he was laughing his head off.
        "It's not funny," I complained, rubbing my side that I'd fallen on. After a few more seconds, he managed to cap his laughter and get a little serious, though I still heard the laughter in his voice.
        "I'm sorry." He chuckled. "You know I love you."
        "You're lucky I love you too," I said, finally lightening up as I woke up a little more.
        "Yes I am," Dylan responded, surprising me with the dead seriousness of his tone. I felt my cheeks heat up and I knew I was blushing, again thankful for the fact that he couldn't see me. "Ha I made you blush, didn't I?"
        o.O
        "N-No..." I stuttered, a little freaked out that he knew that, then we both laughed for another five minutes.
        "Well, you better be getting ready for school... wouldn't wanna be late for another day of telling that jackass off." Dylan said, sounding happy and proud from the other end of the line. "That's so cool that you did that yesterday, Toby."
        I'd told Dylan all about it when I got home, and he was like a proud father. It was great, but just a wee bit awkward. o.O
        "I couldn't have done it without you," I said firmly. It was so true, though. Dylan gave me all kinds of courage I didn't even know I had.
        I could practically hear his smile over the phone. "I love you, Toby."
        "I love you, too Dyl."
       
        Despite having the best morning I could remember since leaving Newfield's, I felt anxiety as soon as I stepped foot onto school grounds. Thanks to Skylar punching me in the nose, we hadn't been able to get the questions answered. I could have to come back again for another senior year >.<
        I walked into Mr. Massara's office, to find Skylar sitting there. Mr. Massara looked up at me as I tapped on the door.
        "Ah, Toby! Skylar here just told me about how you guys didn't have the chance to meet up for the assignment, but how you both agreed you'd have it done by tomorrow." Mr. Massara said, seeming happy. I looked over at Skylar.
        His black eye had faded, but he looked sad and hurt. Something was wrong with him, and despite him being a complete dick, I felt bad for him. I nodded, agreeing with whatever story Skylar had told. Now I was more interested in what was wrong with Skylar himself.
        "Good, good. I see you both are at least trying to get along, and that's a really good first step. Now then, I expect to see both of you in English 5th period!"
        After we left the room, Skylar started to walk on away, but I walked up right in front of him, making him stop.
        "What's wrong?" I asked, earning a confused look from him.
        "What? Nothing. Get the hell out of my way before I bust your fucking nose again." I frowned, and got out of the way. Not because of the threat, but because he looked like he was in so much pain. Not physical pain, but that deep down hurt that only you can notice. That no one can see, nonetheless help fix. A pain I knew a lot about.
        "When are we doing that thing?" I called to him.
        "Park, at 8 o'clock." He called back, not sounding hateful or anything. Just empty. This was bad.
        All through the day, I did some digging. I asked some of the other awkward kids a bunch of questions about Skylar, and learned that his dad was a retired cop. His mom had died giving birth to him, and he was always that kid that everyone swore was gonna shoot up a school. I watched him, how he ate shyly, how he was sure not to show his arms, or his legs when he tied his shoes. All of these I could relate to, back from Newfield's for that agonizing month that I was Evan's bitch. All the pieces were starting to fit into place. By the end of the day, I was pretty sure I knew what was going on, but the only way to make sure was to actually confront him about it. And the park was the only place I could make this happen.
       
        I was waiting there, at the same table we'd been at before, when I watched Skylar walk into the park. I waited until he was approaching the table, then I got up and met him about five feet from the table. He looked confused, and a little bitter.
        "What?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
        "We need to talk." I said, knowing I was going to be asking for it.
        "No, we need to answer those questions and mind our own fucking business." He was really defensive, and it made me wonder if he didn't already know that I knew.
        "Skylar, I know what's wrong with you." I said, and apparently, that was the hot button.
         Skylar threw his bag on the ground, and shoved me back a couple of feet, the whiplash of it making me dizzy. He stood there like he expected me to come back and shove him back, but after realizing I wasn't going to, he got up close to me, pulled me up by the front of my shirt and got inches from my face.
        "Just finish this stupid project with me, then leave me the fuck alone!" He snapped. I shook my head.
        "It's not over after the project." I said, saying what had to be said despite what I knew was coming. "These stupid questions aren't going make him stop hitting you."
        The next half hour flew by like a couple of minutes, in pure agony. As soon as I said it, Skylar slammed his fist into the side of my face and I fell onto the ground. He didn't stop like he did last time, and instead continued kicking the shit out of me until I was literally sore from head to toe. I had a busted lip, a swollen cheek, and tons of bruises all over my body, and that's just what I could feel.
        He pulled me up again, by the front of my shirt, but he held on this time, because if he hadn't, I would've fallen straight to the ground. He got in my face and the rage on his face was terrifying, but I had to help him.
        "What the fuck do you want from me?" He growled, angrily. "Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone?!"
        "I want to help you." I said, which suddenly struck me as hilarious. Here I was, trying to help someone who'd made my life a living hell since I left Newfield's.
        "You can't help me. No one can." Skylar threw me onto the ground, and started towards his bag.
        "I know what it's like." I called, now noticing the tears running down my face from where I was laying on my back, staring up at the sky. Skylar was suddenly over me, looking like he was ready to start beating the shit out of me again, with those venomous eyes.
        "You don't know shit!" He snapped.
        I chuckled weakly. "You'd be surprised. I know what it's like to be hit by someone who's supposed to treat you right. Supposed to treat you like another human being. I know what its like to be treated like trash. To constantly be told that you're nothing, and hit and criticized for everything you do. Nobody deserves to be beaten up for no reason." I found myself crying as I remembered the month of torture with Evan.
        "It's not right for boyfriends, or fathers, or anyone else, to hit someone who they're supposed to love. Someone who doesn't deserve to be treated like shit, for just being who they are." I felt a drop land on my face, but then I realized it wasn't rain. Skylar was standing above me, crying. He pulled me up, yet again, by the front of my shirt, though this time there were tears running down his face, but the rage was still there. I still wasn't getting through to him.
        He slammed me up against a tree, knocking the air from my lungs. He drew his fist back to deck me in the face, but I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.
        "You're letting him win."
        Skylar stopped mid-swing. "W-What?"
        "Look at what you're doing. I know sometimes you can't stop him, but you don't have to become him." I said, then winced as his grip loosened, making me put pressure on my very sore left leg. "If you let him change you, you're letting him beat you."
        Skylar seemed to freeze. Like his batteries died or something. He just stopped. A second later, I was being crushed in a hug as he sobbed against me. "I-I am s-so sorry! Y-you don't d-deserve this."
        I was surprised at his sudden change of heart, but super relieved I'd finally gotten through to him. This guy crying and hugging me wasn't the same guy who'd hit me in the nose, or beat me up a minute ago. I was even pretty sure he wasn't the same guy who treated me like shit in the hallway, and at school. Maybe I was wrong, but I was pretty sure that this was the real Skylar, who'd just been hidden in a cocoon of pain and abuse, with the only way he knew of letting it out being by hurting people like he was being hurt. All I knew for certain was that I like this Skylar much, much better.

        After a ten minute sob session in the park, we finally pulled ourselves together and sat at the table, then filled out the questions. And for once, I didn't feel so awkward around him. As we completed the assignment, we each told each other about ourselves, and what made us like we are. I told him about Evan, and Newfield's, and he told me about his father, the abuse, and how he always did feel bad after he'd pick on me.
        "I never realized what I was doing. It's like it made me feel better to treat you like shit, because for once I wasn't the one being walked all over." He'd said. 
        So we finished the questions, and finished talking around midnight. We'd resolved all of our issues, and talked out a lot of stuff, and in the end, as I walked back home with a smile on my face, I guess I'd made a friend. We actually had a lot in common, though I never would've guessed just a week ago that we'd become anything less than bitter enemies. I guess it just goes to show, it's never too late for a new beginning.