Disgrace (A Scömìche Fanfiction)

Chapter Two

"Hey Grassi!" a voice hollers, and I slowly turn around. It's Gordon, and he has another one of his goons with him. I don't recognize this one. He's very tall and probably very strong. However, he seems more uncomfortable rather than threatening. "This is Scott," Gordon says, gesturing to the boy. The boy awkwardly waves, and I watch him warily. "Say 'hi'," Gordon says menacingly. "Hi," I squeak in fear. Scott doesn't meet my gaze. I slowly start to back away, but I stop short when I hear Gordon's low chuckle. "We're not done with you yet, gay boy. Come here," he orders. I edge towards him nervously.

"You hold him," Gordon commands, roughly grabbing my wrists and shoving them into Scott's hands. Without a word, Scott holds my hands above my head while Gordon hits me. I let it happen; Scott seems strong, and I definitely won't be able to get away.

I take blow after blow without a word, but I feel a tear slip out. "Aw, is Mitchie crying?" Gordon mocks. He punches me again. "Real men don't cry." I start coughing, doubling over as much I can being held by Scott. "Maybe we should stop, Gordon," I hear a soft voice from above me say, but I ignore it. I'm probably imagining it. "Do you have a soft spot for gay boy here?" Gordon says. "Well, no-"

"Prove it."

Suddenly, Scott lets go of my wrists and I land on the tile, still coughing. "If you really don't care about Mitchie, hit him," Gordon commands, backing away. Scott stares at me for a long time. "Well?" Gordon says, now annoyed. Scott mouths, "I'm sorry," before kicking me in the head, and everything goes dark.

I wake up a few minutes later, with a really bad headache and a few more bruises. I carefully get up, collecting my abandoned books and heading to class.

"Mitchie!" a familiar voice sings. I grin at the sound. "Kirstie!" I sing back. It's choir time, and we're sitting next to each other like always. "Good morning, class," Mr. Deders says, and we chorus back our usual greeting. "We have a new member," he says, waving off somewhere. "His name is Scott." Dread fills my heart. No, no, it can't be him. Please don't let it be him. Scott awkwardly comes in, smiling nervously. "Ooh, Mitchie. He's cute," Kirstie winks, elbowing me to get my attention. "It's him," I whisper, and Kirstie looks at me confusedly. "You know him?" she asks. "We . . . we've met before." Scott's eyes are scanning the risers, searching for a place to sit, when his eyes lock with mine. He stares at me for a second, before coming to me. Oh no.

"Is anyone sitting here?" he asks me, gesturing to the empty seat next to me. Why didn't I put my bag there? "Y- yes," I stutter, and Kirstie gently slaps me scoldingly. "Mitch! No, no one's sitting there," she tells him. He smiles at her before plopping down next to me. "Hey, sorry about earlier," he murmurs. I ignore him. "He- he forced me." I glare at him. "If he really did, why didn't you refuse to hit me?" I snap, and he blushes. "I-" I hold my hand up, silencing him.

This is going to be a long year.