Problems

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Warnings
Minimal Rude/Offensive Language!

~A Week Later~
~Patton's POV~

I had just turned in my art project as the end of my fourth class rolled around and I started to make my way to my fifth class. I had gotten a 98 on my love essay and it was a lot better than I expected. There were a few spelling mistakes which took off  a few points, and I was perfectly fine with that.

I had taken my usual seat as the other students started to walk into class. I pulled out my phone and decided to text Logan as I still had another five minutes until class had started.

ME: Hey, do you want to do something after classes today?
Logi-Bear: I'd love to, but I am afraid I cannot make plans. I have been assigned too many homework assignments and would like to finish them all before dinner. I love you, dear.

ME: That's alright, maybe I can cook something with Crofters for dinner tonight?

Logi-Bear: That would be lovely, now if you'd excuse me, class is starting, make sure you eat lunch.
ME: Alright, love you, have fun :)

I put my phone in my back pocket as the teacher started to get the class started. Mr.Johnson had told us that we didn't need to worry about another writing assignment for the next two weeks, so I wasn't stressed about getting too much homework today.

 ~~~~~

As I was packing my stuff up and walking to the front of the classroom to eat, someone had walked passed me and, quite aggressively, bumped my shoulder. 

"I-I'm sorry." I told him as he stopped in front of me. He was quite tall, and pretty well built. He had sports shorts on and a regular t-shirt. He was pretty tan too, and wore brand clothes, so I assumed he had grown up with a good amount of money. He didn't have any distinguishing features separating him from everyone else in the room.

"Oh, so you do speak?" He turned around and looked at me spitefully. Had I done something to him? 

"P-Pardon me?" 

"Don't act so sweet and innocent. I know people like you. You're suck ups that's what you are. You're a good-for-nothing, suck up. I've seen the way you act in this class." He started to laugh, it was a low, husky laugh, and it intimidated me much more than I realized.
"You say nothing in class, 'do all your work' " I couldn't help but notice the quotation marks he used as he spoke. "And always get an easy A in here. Don't cha?"  He sounded so condescending, but I still hesitantly nodded.

"Yeah, and I bet it helps staying after class everyday. Whatever sick things you do must be worth the grade though, isn't it?" He spat.
"Whatever, I'm done talking to you. It's a waist of oxygen talking to a faggot anyways. Let alone a whore." And so he walked off. 

I didn't know what to make of that conversation.

What did he think I did in this class besides try and eat as much as I could? Who was he to assume such rude and nasty things about me? He had no idea who I was. He didn't know me.

But why was I so hurt by his words? 

I knew they weren't true. 

He was just being mean... 

"Patton?" I looked up, I hadn't even realized when my breathing had become heavy and uneven, or when I had fallen to my knees. 

I clutched onto my shirt as my chest tightened and I started to cry, at first softly but then I was full on sobbing. My vision started to become blurry as my tears shielded me from the world. The voice that I recognized as Mr.Johnson started to fade out as my sense of hearing kept going out and coming back. 

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