Chapter 3

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[ALEXANDER]

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[ALEXANDER]

I stopped in my tracks as my eyes widened in awe at the scene before me. A crowd was gathering at my locker. I could feel irritation building in my gut. What do they want now? I thought, sighing as I approached my locker, anyway.

"You don't have to do this man," I heard Travis' voice say as he came into view. He was seemingly confronting two blockheads that I didn't bother acknowledging their birth names (why learn their names when the ones I've assigned to them suit them better?)

I winced as one viciously stabbed Travis' chest with his finger, I diverted my eyes to the other who seemed to be preoccupied with looking 'scary'. I looked away, paying attention to the plastic trash bag that was now leaking due to his loose grip. Travis and the blockhead were now in a disturbing verbal fight. Surprising, since they didn't have much words in their vocabulary to exchange.

"You're such an asshole!"

"Faggot lover!"

I winced at the very err, interesting words. Bringing my fist to my mouth, I decided enough was enough.

"Ehem..." I cleared my throat, which to my great relief brought everyone's attention to me. They looked at me for a while, a bit dazed, before breaking into a fit of murmuring.

"So the faggot finally showed up," the big bloke said, brushing past Travis (rather rudely if I do say so myself), clapping as he approached me, the crowd parting rather from fear than the respect he probably thought he was given.

"Last I remember cigarettes didn't possess legs and we're not in a British boarding school, and I was never your junior," I said calmly. I watched as his face turned into a puddle of confusion, and I refused to let the smirk that was threatening to form at the side of my lips appear, I'm not stupid I don't just anger stupid bull (ah, new nickname.)

"Don't play smart with me!" He groaned, grabbing my shoulder roughly. I winced, but I didn't lose eye contact with the dark-haired bull, couldn't give him the satisfaction of it.

"I'm not playing 'smart' you're too stupid for that," I said in frustration, pulling his hand off my shoulder. I didn't quite notice the fit of laughter going on in the crowd until the bull turned over to silence it with his glare.

"I'll get you for this," he scoffed as he passed by me (Why so rude?). I rolled my eyes and proceeded to my locker. I groaned at the small bit of garbage. To me, it's more annoying than having the full thing piled in front of your locker. If you're doing something, it's better to do it well.

"I wasn't part of it!" I heard someone say behind me. Raising my brow, I turned around to find a panicky Travis. His blond hair was a mess. His hands looked painfully tucked into the pockets of his pale blue denim jeans.

"I know," I said calmly as I shut my locker. There are a lot of things I note Travis for, and cowardly bullying wasn't one of them.

"Uh... You do?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck in apparent surprise. I chuckled a little. I seem to be doing that more often lately, mostly because of Chris, and partly because of this guy here.

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