The boy trudged down the hallway of his high school, tears streaming down his face. He was having the worst day of his life, all thanks to Rob Tillman. The most athletic, popular, “good looking” guy in school had outed him. Now everyone was staring and snickering as the gay boy walked to his locker after lunch in tears.
He walked up to his locker and attempted to open it, but failed miserably due to his teary eyes blurring his vision. He let out a sob and punched his locker in frusturation.
“Is gay-boy Pierre sad? Awh, is he maaaaaad?” a boy taunted, throwing a piece of wadded up paper at him. It hit the back of his black spiky hair, and he shook his head, more tears spilling out.
Pierre wiped away the tears with the back of his shaky hand and opened his locker. Sitting on top of his black backpack, was a note. Pierre shook his head as he assumed it was a letter taunting and making fun of him. He picked it up, about to toss it onto the floor, but paused when he saw that a heart was drawn on the outside.
He looked around, his tears ceasing. People were whispering still, and no one seemed to be looking at him as if they ha written a note. The only stare that wasn’t taunting or harsh was that of his teacher at the end of the hall, Mrs Dubois, who was giving him a sympathetic stare.
He slowly started opening the note before it was snatched out of his hands. Rob Tillman started opening it himself, “Awh, did gay-boy get a love letter? Who from?”
Pierre frantically reached for it but with Rob being much taller than him, held it above his head. “Does gay-boy want this back? So no one sees the homo stuff inside?” He smiled wickedly.
“Give it back, asshole!” Pierre shouted angrily, tears pouring down his cheeks again.
“Wonder why you looooove that word so much, GAY-BOY!” Rob laughed. By now everyone in the small hallway was staring at them; some were laughing, some were whispering, and some were just staring absentmindedly.
“Are you 12?! Give it back, right now!” Pierre yelled, jumping to attempt to grab it. Rob pushed him as he landed, so Pierre fell to the floor in angry tears.
Pierre layed there for a minute, letting tears fall before he stood up again.
Rob was about to say something when Mrs Dubois came storming down the hallway. “ROB TILLMAN YOU GIVE THAT PAPER BACK TO THAT BOY RIGHT NOW OR I WILL CALL YOUR PARENTS!” She boomed.
Rob’s smile faltered before he hesitantly handed Pierre back the note.
“Right, well, get to class.” Mrs Dubois said to them both before looking around at all the students staring and yelled louder, “Get to class! Everyone!”
Immidiately, the normal hallway buzz began again as students scurried to their next class. Rob glares at Pierre before giving him one last shove and walking down the hall.
Pierre smiled at Mrs Dubois as she gave him a sad smile. “Things will get better, Pierre. See you in class.”
Pierre stared after her a minute before wiping his eyes of their last tears and returning to his open locker, where he grabbed his chemistry book, put the note inside one of the pages, and headed to Mrs Dubois’s class.
Pierre was in tears. Again. All through chemistry, people had been throwing things at the back of his head. He tried to focus on his assignment, but he couldn’t concentrate with the immature people throwing things at him. Man, he hated Rob.
A piece of paper slid on his desk and he lifted his red eyes to see a girl look at him, expecting him to read it. Pierre unfolded the drawing and looked at. It was an animation of him, which actualy was drawn in great detail and looked exactly like him. Black spiky hair, a ATTICUS t-shirt, tan shorts and black shoes. But, then they had drawn on a boner pointing to a big fat drawing of the principal, Mr Durand.
Pierre’s tears poured out faster now as people began snickering in the class. He buried his face in his hands and started sobbing, trying to be quiet. After a few minutes of people still snickering, Mrs Dubois’s voice filled his ears. “Pierre, would you like to be excused for the rest of class?”
She got her answer when he stood up, slammed his chemistry book shut, and stormed out of the room. He sulked down the empty hallways to the library, where no one was. He sat in the corner by the bookshelves filled with large novels and exhaled.
He suddenly remembered the note, and flipped his book to the page where he has stored the note. He slowly unfolded it, and took a look at the very neat handwriting.
“Pierre, ne pleure pas. Tu as l’air tellement plus beau quand tu sourire. N’écoutez pas ce qu’ils disent, tu es parfait.
Pierre smiled. Someone thought he was handsome? Someone cared enough to put a note in his locker to say he’s perfect?
His beautiful hazel eyes filled with tears once more, but this time, out of happiness. Whoever this ‘D’ was, had made his whole day. It was so sweet.
Pierre re-folded it neatly and put it back into his chemistry book. He looked at the calendar and was suprised to find it was September 7th. He had thought it was the 8th.
He shrugged, and realized Chuck’s birthday would be coming up soon. Chuck Comeau was his best friend, they’d been friends for four years, ever since they were thirteen. Him, Chuck, and his other two best friends, Jeff Stinco and Sebastien Lefebvre, were all in a band. They called themselves “Simple Plan.” Chuck played drums, Seb and Jeff were on guitars, and Pierre did vocals and bass.
The thought of his friends made him smile, but it was quickly replaced by a frown when he realized they might not want to be his best friends anymore, now that they knew he was gay.
He sighed and got up, walking around a bookshelf to leave, but running into someone. They both fell, and Pierre began apologizing right away.
“I’m so sorry! Oh my god, let me help you.” He said as he picked up the other person’s books. He looked up to meet the most beautiful pair of eyes he’s ever seen.
The boy he’d ran into had blonde, spiky hair, a red shirt that said “slut” on it, and tan shorts much like Pierre’s. Pierre had never seen him around, and was stunned at how handsome he was. Pierre noted how his nose ring, lip ring, and earrings made his face even more charming.
Pierre cleared his throat, after realizing he’d been staring. The boy had been staring back though, Pierre noted. He then understood why.
“Uhm…je suis désolé” Pierre said.
The boy smiled. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t look where I was going.”
Pierre furrowed his brow, confused. If the boy understood English, why had he been staring at Pierre? In Montreal, if someone didn’t understand what you were saying in English, it meant you had to say it in French, and they always looked at him the same way David had been when they expected him to speak in French.
Pierre handed the boy his books, strangely fascinated by the boy. “Oh, I-uh…I haven’t seen you before?” Pierre mentally slapped himself for sounding like a complete retard.
The boy chuckled. It was a musical sound. “Uh, no, I actually just moved here in the summer from Sept-îles.” He looked at Pierre nervously, and Pierre reckoned that it was because Pierre was gay.
“What’s your name?” Pierre said, trying to sound indifferent.
“Uh..I..i-it’s David Desrosiers.” He gulped.
“Oh, cool….I’m Pierre Bouvier. I guess you already knew that though…”
“Why do you guess that?” David’s voice became suddenly high-pitched, almost nervously.
Pierre looked at him. He’d meant the last part not to be heard by the boy. “Well because..I’m uh…”
“Gay?” David said.
Pierre nodded slowly, waiting to see the boy’s reaction.
David smiled warmly. “Hey, it’s not like its a big deal. People are blowing it out of proportion. I bet you’re a great guy…y’know like a-a good friend… Good person. I bet you’re a good person.” He stammered.
Pierre looked at him in shock. He opened his mouth to say something, but David interrupted. “Listen, I gotta get to Chemistry…I’m already late. So, uhm, see you around. Hope things get b-better for you. Bye” he rushed and practically ran out of the room.
Pierre stood there a minute, trying to figure out what had just happened. ‘I hope things get better for you’? Why had he been so…strange? Wait a minute, D? D as in…David? Pierre looked at the door where David had exited and shook his head. It couldn’t be. Could it?