Tutor and Tutee (Deleting)

Chapter One

The back of my head slammed harshly against my locker. All eyes were on me and my bully, Nate Anderson. My name is Jone Davis, I'm sixteen years old and I'm gay. Yes, I am homosexual, unlike the other guys and girls in school. My surname has a meaning and it means adored. But in school, I was much more of the opposite. People were bullying me, calling me names because of my sexuality. And I call that bullshit.
    The sixteen year old boy grabbing the collar of my polo shirt was Nate Anderson, my childhood friend who doesn't remember me and my main bully. He was popular, handsome, cool and straight. That was why people don't pick on him—because he's straight (and attractive).
    I could hear people cheering for Nate to punch me, kick me, scratch me. They were cheering so loudly as if they just saw a popular band walk pass by casually. And Nate was smirking at me as if he was going to kill me and be satisfied about it—just like a hero being slained by a villain . . .
    But before he could do anything to me, one of the teachers noticed the fight and was screaming and shouting for it to stop before she sends all of us to the principal's office. Oh, and did I mention that Nate and I were in the same class? Yeah, this whole year was going to be hell. We just started this year two months ago and yet, I was already getting bullied so bad.
    Nate growled as his fun was coming to an end and whispered in my ear harshly, "Better watch out, Davis. Next time, I won't wait any longer for those damn teachers to stop me before I even lay a hand on you."
    He backed away, letting me go before walking away with girls crowding him like he was some popular actor or singer. I sighed at the glares I received from people who were walking by, whispering harsh insults at me, calling me names as they always do. The teacher who stopped the fight, Mrs. Vandelmen, walked towards me and said some reassuring phrases. I liked Mrs. Vandelmen. She was nice, kind and soft towards others, like a mother towards her seven year old child.
    I smiled sadly as she told me to return to class with everyone else before the bell rang. There was nothing else to say or do but to oblige.
    I walked into the class with my head down as I got hit by crumpled papers or literally anything my classmates had to throw at me. I felt a sharpened pencil hit my cheek by the led area and it hurt. But I was used to this because I was always the victim of people in my class.
    I wanted to cry, scream, throw the desks and chairs at everyone, yell out any cuss words I know, but I knew I couldn't do that. It would cause a scene.
    I walked towards the empty seat in the middle of the room, surrounded by empty desks that were not used by anyone and sat down, laying my head on the table, facing the wall on the left to avoid insults being screamed at my face. I wanted to cry, hug the closest thing I could find . . . The desk was the closest thing to me now, but if I hugged the desk, I would just make a fool of myself like I always do.
    "All right, class, please quieten down," Mrs. Vandelmen said as she walked into the classroom a few seconds after the bell rang.
    I looked at her, interested in what she was going to say. I expected it to be a boring announcement from the principal and nothing much, but I wouldn't know if I don't listen.
    "Today, I would just like to say that the principal is allowing straight-A students to tutor those who need to improve in their subjects," Mrs. Vandelmen said and smiled. "I know that there are some smart students in this class, yes? So it would be easy to pair you all up."
    I was quite relieved that Mrs. Vandelmen was choosing our pairs because she might choose a suitable partner for me—if there was one. But apparently, I got my hopes up way too soon.
    "Your pairs have been chosen by other teachers who teaches other classes. So yes, your pairs will be randomized," Mrs. Vandelmen stated.
    What she said didn't make me feel any better. It made me feel like I needed to scream in a pillow and just sob for the whole day. I knew I was going to be one of the tutors because I have been getting As for all of my subjects.
    Groans and loud whispers could be heard from students until Mrs. Vandelmen hushed the class.
    She then started listing names and pairing them up together.
    People were happy with who they got, most probably because I wasn't paired up with them. I laid my head back down on the rough surface of my desk and waited. I heard my name being called, causing my head to perk up to pay attention to who my tutee was.
    "Jone, you will be a tutor and your tutee will be Nate," Mrs. Vandelmen said, guilt present in her voice.
    My eyes widened in disbelief. Out of all the people, why Nate? Gasps could be heard as people started throwing things at me again. What hurt more than being thrown rubbish at was that I was paired up with my childhood friend who doesn't remember me after leaving the elementary school we were in because he was moving away.
    "Class, please stop throwing things at others," Mrs. Vandelmen demanded as she frowned.
    My classmates didn't stop and they just continued to throw more things like books, pencil cases, pens, and now they were booing me with glares that says that I should be dead.
    I was hurt by the actions of those insensitive people. Why wouldn't they leave me alone? It was because I'm gay and they think that that's abnormal? What bullshit are they talking about?
    Tears blurred my vision but I quickly rubbed them away and stood up with my head hung low. "E-excuse me, I'm going to the toilet," I said. Before Mrs. Vandelmen could say anything, I ran outside the classroom with my teeth clenched as tears were finally able to make their way down my cheeks.
    I ran to the nearest bathroom, pushing the door open roughly, slamming it shut before standing in front of the mirror.
    "What the hell is wrong with me . . . ?" I mumbled as I rubbed my tears away.
    I looked in the mirror and all I saw was someone weak, unconfident, abnormal, and sensitive to the point whereby he could get hurt by just a few insults.
    "I just wanna go back to my dorm . . ." I mumbled.
    I heard footsteps getting nearer to the bathroom. I quickly washed my face and tried my best to make my tears stop but it didn't work. All I could do was sniffle and cry some more and let this stranger see me as nothing else but a weakling.
    "Yo, nerd."
    I looked up to see Nate. My eyes widened in fear as I backed up against the wall with more tears streaming down. I didn't want to see him, not like this. I shook my head and screamed for him to stay back. He walked towards me and grabbed my elbows tightly.
    "Let go! What the hell are you doing!" I screamed as I struggled to set my elbows free from his grasp.
    "Hey, shut up and listen, will ya?" he said somewhat calmly.
    I wanted to refuse but I thought of what would happen if I did and obliged.
    "Look, I just wanna get this shit over with, all right? I don't give a shit if you're my tutor. I just want you to stay away from me and not ruin my reputation. So if you're gonna tutor me, I'll invite you to my room and act like you're just a normal tutor. I'll forget the fact that you're a fag and let you tutor me, aight?" he said.
    I was confused and hurt by the fact that he called me a fag but also felt like he was trying to comfort me. The tears finally stopped as I just nodded in silence.
    "And just ignore what people say, all right?" he mumbled almost inaudibly as he looked away. "I'm going back. I'm not letting some faggot follow me back to class so just go back when I'm at the doorway of the classroom."
    He walked away, leaving me confused. A small smile crept onto my face. I blushed as his words replayed in my mind.
And just ignore what people say, all right?
After all those years of being his childhood friend and knowing how he acts, I felt like maybe he could change. Maybe he does remember me. But what I know for a fact is that his kindness still remains.