Chapter 31: Scars Aren't Supposed to Hurt

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This morning, Bryce realized that the only thing worse than a cold serving of pappy hotel food—that is if he overlooked the fact that he is currently homeless and the love of his life deservedly broke up with him yesterday—is having to walk into Blake and Asher squabbling in the locker room with one of their out-of-context arguments. Blake had already spoken words thrice the number of steps it took Bryce to walk inside the locker room plus however long it took him to fumble with his keys. He'd expected himself to be annoyed, but somehow hearing his friends bicker again after everything that happened, even though they had no idea, brought Bryce a sense of familiarity, no matter how faint.

"You can't be making demands with that yee-yee ass haircut, Blake."

Asher rolled his eyes as he slammed the door to his locker after retrieving the only notebook he's been using for the entire semester, while Blake proceeded to touch his damp hair self-consciously, scowling at his friend's retort.

"Oh come on! If my mom sees that, I'll be grounded for a week," he whined, pointing at Asher's phone tucked safely inside his jacket's pocket. Judging by the sly smirk on Asher's face, Bryce could only guess it was another embarrassing photo of his best friend, which if it was, would be nothing new. "and she will see that." Blake added, fear clear in his voice. "And I will be grounded for a week."

Asher chuckled, turning his back to Blake who all but snarled, only stopping when they saw Bryce standing by his locker with a sullen expression. Blake jumped in surprise, then nudged at Asher, who nudged back at him harder in return.

"Hey, man haven't seen you since yesterday," Blake said after clearing his throat, earning their captain's attention. Bryce acknowledged them with a small 'hey' and returned to his business right away. "You disappeared on us after those dildobags made a show at the booth," there was no accusation in the dark-haired boy's voice, just pure curiosity, and maybe even a little concern. "Is everything good?"

"Morning," Bryce murmured before quietly closing his locker with a click, subtly ignoring Blake's question. His fist subconsciously tightened at the mention of the three assholes who made an unwanted appearance in front of their booth yesterday, reminding him of the origin of the three noticeable red scratches across his knuckles.

"Bryce," Asher's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, prompting the blond to shake his head at them; as if to say, "I'm fine."

"What's gotten you two up in each other's asses now?" he answered, purposely swaying the topic as he forced a neutral smile on his face, making sure to hide his hands under the fabric of his coat.

"Nothing important," Asher answered for them, cutting Blake who was on the verge of ranting. "Did you hear about Ian?"

It was like they sprayed Bryce's face with cold water, instantly wiping the smile off his face at the mention of Ian's name. "Why? What happened? Is he okay?"

"He kind of passed out in the hallway yesterday," Asher told him, voice alarmingly calm.

Bryce forced himself not to bark at him about it and instead tried to suppress the panic in his voice as he stepped forward. "What? What the hell happened? Why didn't anyone tell me?

"We did, at least we tried to, but you weren't answering your phone," Blake was now sounding a little suspicious as he stood closer behind Asher. "Seriously, Bryce where were you?"

"I uh... I went home," Bryce muttered, internally rolling his eyes at himself. What home? You sleep on an unmade hotel bed and you eat a plate of mush for dinner.

His eyes found his best friend, instantly regretting it when he saw Blake's usually bright face now pulled down in a concerned albeit annoyed frown. He knew Blake didn't like being kept from the light when something's bothering his best friend, but Bryce wasn't exactly in the mood to discuss anything with him, even though he's been dying to, so instead, he looked away, shrugging his bag on his back.

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