Stop Bullying Me! [boyxboy]

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve (Oliver's POV)

I hurt him.

Of course I did, he hurt me first! My cheek was still throbbing and the taste of blood hadn't entirely left my mouth. So, why did I feel so awful about hurting him? The way he looked at me... I swore he was going to cry and if he had, I probably would've died.

But he hurt me. He embarrassed me. Why did I still love him so much?

Maybe I knew that somewhere deep inside he was just angry? I had watched the gears turning in his head as he watched me in the hallway, his blue eyes wide. Then, before I could even do anything, the back of his hand had struck me so hard that it took all my power to stay standing and not hit the floor...

What had made him so angry that he went as far as to hit me? Did he really love me as much as he said he did? The look on his face when he was apologizing... He looked so sincere, so hurt, so confused, so terrified.

Part of me wanted to go back, go back and tell Nick that I forgave him, but another part of me won over and I kept driving back home hurriedly, going way past the speeding limit on the wet roads, rain crashing down on my car and thunder shaking the planet in one heave.

I was scared. I shouldn't have driven away. I should've stayed, I moaned to myself, but at the same time, I felt like this was the better choice.

I was away from Nick. Nick hurt me. He didn't love me enough to stand with me against the school... And yet...

I knew he was concerned. It's why he hid our relationship, he said, and he was right. The school could easily handle Nick being gay. Mocking him was a death sentence and without a doubt, Carter and those other two football jockeys were in for a surprise when Nick came back and commited triple murder.

Me, on the other hand. I couldn't do it. With just Carter, I was pinned down. He'd slammed me into a locker at least three times, giving me a hell of a headache and he even punched me in the gut. I could still feel the soreness of it, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as Nick's bitchslap...

Or the ache in my heart.

I had to go back. I couldn't keep driving, heading home and moping.

I had to talk to Nick, and I was a stupid idiot for bothering, but I couldn't help it.

Nick had slapped me around all these years and it did nothing to make me love him any less. I laughed bitterly at the thought as I pulled into a driveway, backing out to pull back onto the road. I was nearly home, but I didn't want to go. I really was a masochist, I realized with a moan.

I wanted Nick. I needed Nick.

I shot down the road again, determined to get back to the school. At the same time my speedometer hit fifty, a blast of thunder made the sky tremble and I gasped, my eyes shutting for a split second before I hit a puddle. The car swerved and I tried to hit the brakes, but my car easily slid across the wet pavement and onto the soaking grass that led straight down the hill and into the swamp.

My heart shot into my throat as my car barrelled downwards. I couldn't shut my eyes, I couldn't breath, I couldn't scream, I couldn't do anything.

Suddenly, my nightmare flashed into my mind. No, not my nightmare. The memory of being in the trunk of my biological father's car as we drove off the bridge. The muffled yelling and screaming, the crashing of metal, crunching and bending like a candy wrapper. Thunder exploding in the air and lightening almost blinding me.

The last thing I saw before I was engulfed in darkness was the windshield coming at my face at the same time the nose of my car crunched against a tree.