chapter 1

"Listen, Leo, you can face me now or you can face me later." I would've actually preferred never. I would've actually preferred to never have even existed. If I could have just disappeared, that would've been the best option.

"Buck, why are you bothering me?" I asked. I already knew the answer. I didn't write his history paper. I could have, but I was so tired last night I just went to bed.

"Where's my paper, Leo?" he asked, and I could tell the cheery tone in his voice was a way to mess with me even further. I wanted to cry, but that wouldn't deter Buck from messing with me, it would make him happy.

"You already know I didn't do it!" I exclaimed squeakily. We were in gym class, running laps. History would be two periods away, three if you counted lunch.

"I told you I needed that paper." I heard the shrill ring of the coach's whistle. That meant we only had ten minutes left in class.

"Well, you...you should have done it." I panted as we ran a bit longer, not from the exercise, but from anguish. Buck made me incredibly nervous.

"I'll just take yours." I stopped dead in my tracks.

"You will NOT!" I had been working on my paper for an entire week. I wanted to get a decent grade on it. I actually did my work.

"Oh, I think I will." He ran pass me and I sprinted to catch up to him.

"You cannot have my paper," I said. He smiled at me, an evil, devious grin. I knew I'd have to come up with a four page essay in three periods or give up my paper.

"Oh, well, I guess I could let a little secret about you get out around school." I thought only bitchy cheerleaders in cheesy high school films had the ability to be so discretely horrible. My chest felt heavy and if I dropped dead I could finally rest in peace.

Captain of the freaking football team, Buckley Forrest, had been pulling me along on a tight leash since sophomore year when I left my stupid journal in the library. So I guess Buck was in the same caliber as a bitchy cheerleader.

'Oh, why was your journal at school?' people may wonder, but, as stupid as it sounded, I thought it was my English journal. I didn't know if anyone could guess what was written inside, but it kind of gave the general picture of my sexual orientation.

That was something I'd much rather keep to myself until I was somewhat ready to share it with the entire goddam world. Coach blew the whistle again so it meant we had to go and change back for the rest of our classes.

"You'll get the essay in History," I mumbled as we left the track.

"Great, I thought so." He patted me on the head like a puppy. "I knew you'd see things in a different perspective." I wanted to ask him if he actually knew what the word perspective meant, but I'd much rather avoid a physical confrontation.

I had to write like hell during English and Physics. I decided to write the drafts during those periods and type it up during lunch. Ha, the joke was on him, the paper was going to barely be C work.

I typed the paper with barely any time to spare. I hadn't expected it to take so long. I printed it out, which took forever, and made my way to European History.

"Oh, sorry," I mumbled. I had bumped into someone after taking a sharp turn around a corner. Everyone always picked on me, and bumping into someone was grounds for an ass-kicking.

"It was my fault." It was Toby Jacoby. He was in my grade, really big and quiet. Like a bear! I laughed a bit to myself at the thought. He was really big though. He quit wrestling after only one season freshman year. The coaches were begging him to stay. I thought he should have, he was really good. He had gotten a little fat though, but I liked it. "Sorry," he said.

"It was my fault." I smiled. I liked Toby. He was one of the only people I did like. I was still on the ground. He pulled me up in one quick motion. "Thanks for helping me up." He wouldn't beat me up. He was too nice. We never talked really, but we were nice to one another.

The bell rang signaling the start of fifth period: European History.