My Mythic Bitch In Red

Chapter Forty

(y/n)'s POV

I breathed in deeply, trying to prepare myself to walk into school on Monday. I knew I wouldn't be ready for the hell that was coming, but I had no choice. I had to be there for her, whether I was ready or not.

In all fairness, I didn't think I was every going be ready.

But here goes nothing, so I exhaled and stepped into the school. I'd made sure to look nice today, with the original heels the girls gave me, a lacy black skirt, a black button up that was buttoned all the way up, and my signature blazer. I'd washed my hair thoroughly and made sure to put on a little extra makeup.

If I got outed, if they saw me as something else, another species maybe, then I could compensate by looking good. Maybe I could show them that we gay people were not unlike them. We all just wanted a happy and healthy romantic life.

The halls were loud, like normal. My heels clicked and I could feel people looking at me. The hairs on the back of my neck were on end. Their eyes burned into me, and though they continued their laughter and chatter, now it felt as if it were about me.

I decided to keep my head on straight, and pretend that this was nothing abnormal. I just needed to stare ahead and remain strong, for Heather.

I nearly broke the facade when I heard the gossip that swirled around the hallways.

"I heard that Heather got into a fight,"

"I heard that the cops beat Chandler up for doing pot,"

"I heard Heather Chandler's a fucking dyke!"

They all laughed it off, or started to believe it. They picked one of the ruthless sides, or the other. But is that not how life goes? Kids are mean, and kids spread rumors. But kids weren't going to bring me down until they hurt my girlfriend.

I made my way to our usual meeting area, the caf, to find Ronnie pacing anxiously and Mac playing with her hair. They both looked up and sighed in relief after seeing me.

"What the hell are all these rumors about? People are saying you and Heather got hurt," Veronica nearly shouted in my face in her worry, instead gripping my forearms tightly.

"Just Heather," I said.

Nothing really prepares you for the tension you feel in moments like these. When you tell your best friends that your girlfriend was hurt and you weren't. When you wish you were the one who was hurt, so that her reputation wouldn't be obliterated, turned into dust that flies away to a distant land with a tiny gust of wind.

I wish somebody had, because maybe if I was better prepared, than maybe we could have made a plan.

Instead I nearly choked on my own sob, pulling Ronnie into a hug because I was scared for the bullying that my darling would face. She was strong and she could handle it, but I didn't want anyone to hurt her. Thinking that I could protect her was probably foolish, but it helped me cope with everything.

"Is she hurt badly? She will be in school, right?" Mac asked gently.

"The physical pain isn't horrible, she told me afterward when I went over there. But... she's scared. The girl who beat her her up threatened to out her. And I don't doubt that she will," I looked down, suddenly afraid to meet their eyes.

"Why, if it isn't the dyke's friends," a familiar voice interrupted. Since when did her voice sound like nails on a chalkboard, ugly and screeching until I wanted my ears to just fall off?

"What do you want with her, Heather," Veronica demanded, letting go of me and taking a step forward. She didn't make it sound like a question, instead a statement.

"It doesn't matter what I want, it matters more what I did. And what I'm going to do," she grinned, and for a second I thought I saw a light in there, just a flicker of kindness before being drowned out by malicious darkness.

"What happened, Heather?" Mac frowned at her, and Veronica glanced back at her.

"I beat up your little friend, and now everyone knows that she and (y/n) are nothing but dirty, gay fucking sluts. Your welcome," she winked, waltzing away to her friend group. They all laughed together, and I felt my eyes water when a hand was placed on my shoulder.

I whipped around to see Ram towering over me, looking vaguely hurt.

"So that's why you never wanted me, huh? You and Heather are dating? I could have given you everything, but you decided to be gay and fall for that power hungry whore," he growled. I shrank back and glanced to Heather and Veronica, who looked scared and confused.

"It's not my fault I'm not into you, Ram, and she's not like that," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. He glared down at me with no sense of decency, just anger and hurt. I shrank back further, trying to subtletly wiggle out of his grip.

And then he slapped me.

I gasped, trying to get out of his grip but he held on strong, and I decided to knee him in the junk.

He doubled over in pain, and I ran back behind a table. I pulled Veronica with me and she had the sense to grab Mac's arm as well.

We hid behind a table because that's all we could do. People were starting to form a crowd, chanting and placing bets on who'd win. People were shouting that I was a "gross homo" and that I deserved the beating. I wanted to drop dead or crawl out of my own skin. I wanted to bolt, and go spend the day with Heather.

I decided that yes, that was exactly what I was going to do. I ran, pushing people out of my way as panic swam through my body, making my hands shake and every part of me start to sweat. I needed to run to my girlfriend and leave this hell hole.

Everything went wrong, and I needed my lover to hold me. My cheek stung, and he had surely left a red mark there with how hard he hit me. I wanted to fall to the ground, wailing like the baby I felt like. But I rode the bus here, so I had to get to her house on foot.

I registered that I was outside now, I could feel the cold biting at my skin and smelled the crisp autumn air. Everything felt like a daze, but at the same time I was all too aware of every thought and sensation.

I saw her neighborhood, and I speeded into it desperately. My legs hurt, my face hurt, my ankles hurt. I was sticky with sweat, and I was only running because I knew I had to.

I nearly collapsed at her door, but instead I knocked shakily.

I waited, trying desperately to get air into my aching lungs, when the door hesitantly opened. I saw Heather looking at me, and knew the exact moment when she saw the hand mark on my cheek.

"Come in, come in! Dear god, what were you doing out there? What happened?" She demanded, pulling me by my wrist into the large house.

"Ram. Fight. Duke. Outed. Us." I panted, head facing down with bent knees. She pulled me into an embrace, kissing my clothed shoulder.

"You go take a shower, you smell. I'll get you some tea. You can hang here the rest of the day," she decided.

"Alright," I was starting to catch my breath now, so I set off lazily. My legs screamed at me to not, but I knew that the pain would be eased with a hot shower.

"There's already towels, soap, shampoo, conditioner, and something for you to change into upstairs. I was ready just in case," she told my retreating back, and I nodded, setting off to take that shower:

(1360 words)