Disgrace (A Scömìche Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty-Three

It's still thundering when my alarm goes off. I tiredly shut it off; I was awake anyway. I force myself to get up, my limbs feeling like they're filled with lead. I throw on some random clothes and thump down the stairs.

My mom is lying on the sofa, again, staring straight into space. "Hi Mom," I say softly, not expecting a reply. "Hi Mitchie," my mom says softly, making me jump. "W- would you like something to eat?" I ask hesitantly, but my mom is back to silence. I sigh, pouring myself a bowl of cereal and waiting it hurriedly.

"Bye Mom!" I call over my shoulder as I hurry out the door. The door slams before she says anything, so I assume she doesn't reply. I hear a ding come from my phone, and I look down.

Stephanie <3: I'll see you at school, love <3

I smile at Scott's text, moving to type a reply before crashing into something hard. "Hey, watch it," a voice growls, and I flush crimson. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't see . . . you . . . there . . ." I trail off as my eyes travel up to the stranger's face. I make eye contact, and my blood runs cold.

It's Gordon.

He doesn't look too hot. He has a black eye and a bruised cheek, along with a lip covered in dried blood. I can't stop the gasp that escapes from my lips. "Yeah, it's hideous, isn't it?" Gordon sneers, his muscles tense with anger. "It's all because of that stupid boyfriend of yours." I back slowly away from him, my eyes still focused on his dark eye. Gordon advances, cracking his knuckles. "Where is he, anyway?" Gordon snarls, "Don't have anyone to protect you now, do we, Mitchie?" I gulp, feeling my back crash into a wall. Sh*t.

Gordon lifts me up by the collar, slamming me into the wall. My head snaps back and pain explodes at the back of my head, black dots dancing before my eyes. Gordon is pushing up on my neck, causing me to gasp for air. "Please," I croak, clawing at his hands, "let go." Gordon just chuckles darkly, pressing harder.

The black dots gather their friends, and I can feel my consciousness start to slip away. Just as I'm about to pass out, Gordon drops me, and I crumple to the floor. I'm gasping, trying to drink in as much air as possible and fill my lungs again. "Having trouble, there, gay boy?" Gordon sneers down at me, offering his hand. I don't take it, obviously; I'm not that stupid. So, Gordon just grabs my shoulder and yanks me up that way. As soon as I'm up, he throws a punch that lands directly on my cheek. It throbs with pain, but the only thing I'm worried about is hiding it from Scott. He'll freak.

Eventually, the bell rings, and the disappointed students have to end their fun. They leave me on the ground, struggling to catch my breath. I pull myself together and head to class, hiding my face as I hurry along.

"Hi Mitchie!" a familiar voice says. I smile and look over to see Scott. "Hi Scottie," I say, leaning into him. "What's this?" Scott murmurs, his voice turning from happy to concerned. He gently brushes his fingers across my cheek, and I wince in pain, taking in a deep, shaky breath. "N- nothing," I say as dismissively as I can, cursing myself when I stutter. Scott raises his eyebrow. "It certainly doesn't look like nothing. Was it Gordon?" His voice raises slightly at the mention of my main bully's name, turning into some sort of growl. "Uh- no. I mean, yes. I don't know!" I cry, biting back tears. I don't want Scott to get hurt trying to protect me. Scott's blue eyes flash with anger as they scan the crowd for the stalking figure.

"Scott, please-"

"He hurt you, Mitchie."

"I know, but-"

"I have to hurt him."

"Scott, I don't want you getting hurt."

"Oh, I'm not going to be the one that gets hurt."

I sigh, slipping my hand into Scott's. "If you're going to do it, wait until after school, please. Oh, and try to intimidate everyone like you're doing now the whole day. They're leaving us alone," I say.

They are, in fact, leaving us alone. I guess it's a combination of seeing how angry Scott is and seeing the injuries he inflicted on Gordon yesterday. The students are leaving a wide circle of space around us, murmuring and whispering to each other. Most of their conversations are about me. "He's so ugly." "I know, right?" "I can't believe he got a boyfriend. A hot one, too."

I take a deep, shaky breath, trying to swallow my tears. Stone. I am stone. Their words can't hurt me. Scott squeezes my hand reassuringly. "We can hear you," he snaps at the group of girls. They fall silent, but I can still sense their eyes on us and hear the soft whispers resume when they think we're out of earshot.

How can he love me?