DON'T WORRY

IV

Finally, Friday had arrived. I rose from my bed, proceeding with my usual morning routine. Upon entering the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast greeted me, along with the presence of my dad's girlfriend who was busy cooking. "Nick, come here and eat. I've made breakfast," she called out warmly. I offered a polite decline, "Oh, no thank you, not hungry." Concern crossed her face. "Are you sure? You didn't have dinner last night." I assured her, "Yeah, I'm sure. Plus, I'll have something at school." Her parting words were kind, "Okay, have a good day, stay safe."

Walking alongside Ben, we embarked on the journey through first period together, tackling the subject of science, not exactly my favorite class. As the lesson droned on, a crumpled note sailed onto my desk. Unfolding it, I was met with a cruel message: 'You look like a fag.' I glanced back to spot the culprit, a guy who smirked knowingly. Tucking the note away in my pocket, I chose to dismiss the hurtful gesture.

Lunchtime beckoned, and while the cuisine didn't inspire excitement, the prospect of not having to learn was appealing. Finding our usual spot outdoors, now claimed by both Ben and me, we settled in to eat. "Not hungry again?" Ben inquired. His choice of words struck me oddly. "Why did you say it like that?" I questioned. He shrugged, explaining, "I don't know, it's just that whenever it's lunchtime, you never eat." I confessed, "Well, I just don't like the school food." He extended a chewy bar towards me. The calorie count flashed in my mind. "No thank you. Like I said, I'm not hungry. Plus, I had a big breakfast." Ben persisted with kindness, "Okay, but keep the chewy bar just in case you get hungry."

Curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, "How do you like the school so far?" I hesitated, then decided to share, "Well, it's not that bad. It's just that, you know what, never mind." Ben wasn't about to let it drop. "No, please tell me." Succumbing, I confessed, "It's just that some kid from our first period had something to say." He prodded further, "Like what?" I handed him the crumpled paper, letting him see for himself. "Who was it?" he inquired. I lacked the name, but the appearance was etched in my memory. "I don't know his name, but he has long black hair." Determination sparked in his eyes. "It's Cameron. I'm so gonna get him." I cautioned, "Ben, no. Leave it alone." He responded with an uncertain commitment, "I can't promise that, alright?"

A change of topic was in order, and I seized the opportunity. "Can I stay over at your house so we can hang out since we didn't last time?" I asked. His affirmative response was enthusiastic, "Yeah, sure, I'd love that." We made plans and he assured me, "You know my address, right?" I admitted, "No, I don't think I ever got it." Apologetic, he offered, "Sorry, I thought I gave it to you. I'll just text it to you."