Polaris

Protect

-Luka-

I went to school early next day, and I saw Blaine. Just as I was about to call out to him, he was dragged away by the headmaster.

The hell?

I slowly moved closer to the headmaster's office, but I couldn't hear anything. A soundproof room, or so it seems.

I shrugged, before heading to literature class, seeing some of my self proclaimed friends. Maybe I should've listened to Blair and gone to her alma mater. After all, it was one of the most prestigious schools in the country, Laduree High, filled with prodigies from all backgrounds, and custom courses for all.

Whatever, it's too late to transfer anyways. I'm just going to school for fun as well.

So unless some miracle happens, I won't transfer.

__________

I was spacing out in class as a familiar figure stumbled into the classroom.

"Look who finally decided to show up." The teacher hissed. I rolled my eyes, but something felt wrong.

Blaine was early this morning, was he not?

Was it because he went to the principal's office?

He looked paler than usual.

What happened in there?

Blaine limped to his seat, and kept his head down.

"Yo bro." I turned around to someone tapping my shoulder. It was one of the "friends" I made. Was his name Brett? Or John? I don't know.

"You should stop paying attention to that boy. He's bad news." I tilted my head in confusion. Before he could say more, the door burst open.

Some guy in a lot of bandages walked in, seething. He looked around, before we made eye contact. "You're dead meat!" He screamed, pointing at me. The fuck?

Then some old and overweight geezer walked in. Mr Halli, I presumed. I yawned. This is boring.

After some mundane talk with the teacher , Mr Halli told me to go with him to the headmaster's office.

I stood up, ignoring all the pitiful and alarmed looks the extras in class gave me.

Walking out, I looked at the guy in bandages confusedly. He seemed ready to kill me? Whatever. He can't, anyways.

I really wanted to know who he was to have such a grudge against me, though. So, I asked in the politest way possible.

"Who the fuck are you?"

I asked with a smile. Ah, how polite I am. My ancestors would be proud.

My question seemed to piss him off even more, as he raised his hand, ready to hit me.

"Dylan. Don't." Two words from the old geezer stopped him in his tracks. Wow. Lame.

We soon reached the headmaster's office, and without knocking, Mr Halli just charged in without permission. Talk about rude.

The headmaster, a fat uncle with a pot belly was wiping his table with wet tissue, cursing about something under his breath, while sweating like a pig.

"I'll make him clean up after himself..." He was muttering to himself, scrubbing the table. But there was nothing on the table. A clean freak, I thought, till my nose caught the metallic smell of blood, and the putrid scent of cum.

It was barely sniffable, but my sensitive nose had its ways.

My mind immediately got to work, drawing up thousands of different possibilities, before landing on the most likely, and yet most impossible one at the same time.