Gay Trash 1 - No Buddy To Call My Own

Stalking

When he got home the first thing he did was shower and then warm up some leftovers. The last time he was home was three days ago. He wasn't sure if someone had noticed his absence but this wasn't even the longest he had been gone. And if they had they had yet to say anything to him so he assumed nobody had even thought to look.

The uncaring nature of his family was a double edged sword. On one side it let him do what he wanted, on the other side it also hurt him immensely that they obviously didn't want him around. He tried to not let it get to him but it was hard.

While he ate he remembered that he had wanted to follow Greg to his home. Well it was to late for that now. His detention had ended half an hour ago so that wasn't an option. But he could still try to see where he live with the help of the internet.

When he found Greg's instagram he was disappointed. Who the fuck didn't have pictures on their instagram? Well he himself for one but that was different. He didn't have a life, he lived through other people. But Greg obviously had something going on in his. Well that was a bust.

Toby began humming and tapping his fingers against the bowl with the heated up pasta in it. What now? It was almost 6 pm and he didn't have anything to do. That wasn't right. He had a lot of things to do. For starters looking for Rebecca, she wanted to go out with friends and he wanted to see if her brief interaction with Alice had changed her behaviour. True a part of her might had hardened, but exactly this part of her could lead her to be more confident. Not necessarily more able to show her caring side but giving her a "fuck you" attitude that could get her places. Toby really wanted to see that happening, it would do her a lot of good.

He also could check if Ethan was now with the girl he had made out with in the closet. Toby was pretty sure that Ethan was actually gay so he thought it improbable.

He could search for the inevitable tumblr block that that quiet, artsy girl must have made by now. He could look if the injured hand of that one jock wasn't healing because his self hatred made him reinjure it again and again. He could check for his brothers, he could check for his father.

He could do so much, and yet he just sat there as if the wall he had ran into while investigating Winston was stopping him from doing anything at all. It wasn't even that important in the great sceme of things. Just another kid trying to survive their own life and their own choices. Yet it had him bound.

In the end he still checked on all the things he wanted to get done. He even caught two guys from his class making out and then crying because they felt too unsafe to love each other openly and honestly. If Toby had the habit of crying than he would have at this point. But he didn't and so he hadn't. He went home and then passed out as if he hadn't slept in a hunderd years. Not before finding his younger brother sectret stash of weed though. And not before guessing the new laptop password that he changed every month. This time it was "BigTiddies". Honestly, what a fucking idiot.