Chuck got out of his last class of the day and headed to his locker. After he got all of his stuff out, he headed to Jeff’s van to wait for everyone else. On the way, he saw Rob Tillman painting ‘fag’ on Pierre’s locker. He shrugged and kept walking downstairs and to the parking lot. He noticed the space beside Jeff’s was empty, so Pierre had gone home early again.
He sat on top of the hood of the car, enjoying the warmth of the day. He started making plans for skateboarding that afternoon or maybe swimming.
After a few minutes of the guys not showing up, he took his phone out of his pocket to check the time. He had a new voice message, so he clicked on it and waited.
“You have one new message and zero saved messages. To few your messages, press seven.” A woman’s recorded voice said.
Chuck pressed seven and waited a moment.
“Chuck, it’s Pierre. I’m sorry, but I h-have to. I love you..”
Chuck froze a minute, his face blank. His mind started racing and he quickly looked around to see if the guys were anywhere in sight. When he realized they weren’t, he jumped from the hood and booked it across the parking lot. He ran as fast as he’s ever ran before, pushing Rob Tillman out of the way as he ran down the sidewalk. He sprinted down the street, down another, and finally he was on Pierre’s (and David’s) street. He ran the extra 600 feet to Pierre’s.
He stopped and looked at how the van was parked across the whole driveway, and he immediately began feeling that overwhelming sense of fear that he had gotten that one day when David was crying and said, “Pierre tried to kill himself.”
He gulped and speed walked to the front door and opened it, his fear getting bigger with every step he got closer to Pierre’s room. He cautiously closed the front door and yelled out, “Pierre?!”
When no one answered, he walked up the stairs slowly, afraid of what he would find. He’d gotten the message an hour after Pierre had left it, who knows what Pierre had done in that time?
He stood outside of Pierre’s door and took a deep breath, he raised his shaking hand to the door knob and turned it. He walked in cautiously, first looking at the bed. He sighed in relief when he didn’t see him there. Maybe Pierre wasn’t even here.
He walked in, just to make sure. He patted the bed, looked under it, and then grinned.
His grin vanished completely, his face turning pale white when he turned around and saw into the closet.
He backed up to the wall, slid down it, and began crying harder than he ever had before.