Chapter 1

Dan's POV

"A C- again uggghh." I frowned staring at the big fat C- on my last math exam in red marker. It felt as though the page were taunting me with all it "Xs", minus points, and corrections. It was going to be a pain explaining this to my mom.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Mr. Goodman cleared his throat.

"Phil you're late."

I noticed Phil Lester standing in front of the door with his usual scowl on his face and a tardy slip in his hand. He was wearing a band tee and his signature leather jacket, his tattoo sleeve slightly peeking out from underneath. His lip piercing and ear gauges caught the light coming from the window making them twinkle. They were almost as bright as his eyes. Phil had piercing blue eyes which appeared even brighter when he wore black eyeliner like right then.

My cheek heated up when I realized that I was staring at Phil and he was gazing back at me.

"Thank you for the tardy lip. You may take a sit now." The teacher said taking the slip from his hand and forcing Phil to break eye contact with me to look at him. I lowered my head in mortification, and did my best to avoid looking at him and ignore his presence. For some reason, I always felt like he was staring at me and it made me nervous.

To be honest Phil scared me. He was always scowling and picking fights with people. He was also very rude and short-tempered. Everybody knew not to mess with Phil Lester.

"Kay" he muttered under his breath and began making his way to the back of the room where his desk was. He paused briefly when he reached mine, causing me to hold my breath in fear. After a moment he sighed and continued walking. I refused to acknowledge him the whole time only lowering my guard when I was sure he was gone. Something about him made me uncomfortable. That boy was trouble.

-/-

"Dan can I talk to you?" Mr. Goodman asked me from his desk as I was gathering my stuff to go to lunch. I waited for everyone to leave before making my way over to him. I stood in front of him, nervously fiddling with the end of my shirt.

He raised an eyebrow at me and I bite my bottom lip.

"Is this about the C- I got on my math exam?" I came out straight and said it, might as well get to the point. I knew this was coming from the moment he placed my test face down on my desk at the beginning of class.

He sighed and leaned forward on his chair with his hands clasp together in front of him.

"What going on Dan? This is not the first time you had gotten a low grade in one of my exams this semester. Why are you struggling with the material?"

I lower my head and looked at my feet, feeling embarrassed at my own ineptitude.

"I just don't get algebra, it was bad enough we had to work with numbers in middle school, now we also had to use letters and formulas! It's confusing." I mumbled, sheepishly scratching the back of my neck.

He seemed taken by surprise when I finally looked up at him, a weak smile playing on my lips.

"I guess, I am just stupid." I shrugged.

"Nonsense, everybody has the ability to learn algebra. Some people just take more time than others. Tell you what, I am going to set you up with a math tutor. You'll like him, he is a brilliant student and great at explaining things. I'll give you his number so you guys can arrange a meeting."

When Mr. Goodman finished talking he had a wide grin on his face. I on the other hand was hesitant to meet up with a complete stranger. Would this tutoring thing even work? Maybe I was just a lost case.

"I don't know..."

"Just try it at least ones. If you don't like it, we can talk about getting you into supplemental classes, but I rather you not. I want you to pass this class Dan. I know you can do it with the right help." He said handing me a slip of paper from his shirt pocket with a phone number on it.

I took it from his hand and smiled shyly down at him "Okay". Mr. Goodman was truly a great teacher. He always pushed us to do our best and genuinely wanted us to succeed. You could tell he like his job too, by the way his eyes twinkled with excitement whenever we started a new chapter. He didn't look down on us like other professors did. He talked to us like adults and tried to work things out with us first before getting our parents involved.

"Great! I really think this is going to be good for you. I'll be keeping in touch with you throughout the week. You may go to lunch now."

"I hope so." I sighed out before swiveling around and heading to my locker. The hallways were empty since everyone was already at lunch. I quickly found my locker and started putting my things away. I was putting my last text book away when suddenly someone shoved me inside and closed the door. I could hear maniacal laughter coming from the other side as I turned around the tight space in slight panic. Through the slits on the door, I could make out Jason and his three goons, Mark, Tom, and Peter outside. I could tell it was them by the football varsity jackets and evil smirks they were wearing.

"You should have just stayed in the closet. You disgusting fag." I heard Jason's say, followed by the sound of hands slapping against each other as if high-fiving.

"Jason please this is not funny. You know I have claustrophobia. Please let me out." I sobbed out, but didn't receive a response from him.

"Jason, are you still there?" I asked after a minute of nobody saying anything. I was beginning to hyperventilate, and it only grew worst when I heard the sound of footsteps fading along with snickering. Before I could continue asking if they were there, someone kicks the door hard, making me a jump up in fright and hit my head in the process. I barely registered when one of them muttered "fag" under their breath and the last of the footsteps faded.

I was having a full-blown panic attack by then. I felt the walls of my locker closing in on me and suddenly I couldn't breathe properly. I started banging on the door and yelling for someone to let me out. I could feel warm tears sliding down my cheeks and the thumping of my heart against my chest as it tried to break free. After five minutes of banging my fist nonstop, I finally lost all hope of someone finding me and just sat there, crying. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did Jason have to hate me? Why couldn't I be normal? Were some of the thought running through my head at that moment.

I was too busy wallowing in self-hate to notice someone picking at the lock from the outside. I jumped back in surprise when the door suddenly flew opened and in front of me was standing no other than Phil Lester with a worry expression on his face. It was weird seeing him with something other than a scold or smirk on his face.

"Are you okay?"

If it were any other time, I would have willingly hid in my locker to get away from him, but at that moment I was too shaken up and grateful to care about who found me even if that someone was the school's resident punk and bad boy. I threw myself into his arms with a little bit too much force and accidently pushed him to the ground in the process. I wrapped my arm around his neck and buried my face into his leather jacket, and I just cried. All the emotions that had built up over the day just burst out in the form of tears the moment he opened the door. He held me through it all, rubbing soothing circles on my back as my heart slowly calmed down.

"Shh is okay, breath." I took deep breaths and slowly started feeling better. I must have fallen asleep like that because the next think I knew I was at the nurse's office, laying down in bed. When the nurse saw that I was awake she started fussing over me, asking me if I was okay and what had happened. I answered all her questions one by one and after checking that I was okay, she sent me off to class.

The rest of the school day went by without me seeing Phil again which made sense considering we only shared two classes together. However, it seemed that all I could think about was those icy blue pools and warm arms around my back. Had that really happened? Did Phil Lester, AKA the schools bad boy, try to comfort me? What did that mean? And most importantly who exactly was Phil Lester? Could I trust him or was he really just bad news? After much debate, I decided that I would talk to him when I saw him tomorrow at school.

-/-

Sweat dripped down my face as I rushed to get home. I could hear my erratic breathing and feel the breeze whipping my hair against my forehead.

When I finally reached my house, I fumbled with my keys for a few seconds before opening the door. I paused at the entrance to greet my mom, who was brewing something that smells oddly like jasmine tea, and ran up to my room. I slammed the door shut and leaned my back against it, letting myself slide to the ground.

I let out a relief sigh. Finally, I was home and could be myself. My real self.

I got up after catching my breath and started stripping the dull clothes I had on. I looked at the grey shirt, dark-grey hoodie, and black pants on the floor and couldn't help but grimace at the depressive colors. I quickly crossed the room and opened the door to my walk-in closet. Inside a rainbow of pastel colored sweaters, soft scarfs, and delicate skirts greeted me. I smiled softly at the soothing colors, already starting to feel better after the stressful day I had at school.

I had gotten bullied again by Jason and his football buddies right before leaving school. This time they had decided it would be fun to slam my face against the lockers repeatedly while calling me a disgusting fag. If that's how they treated me for being gay, I could only imagine what they would do if they found out that I liked to crossdress.

I walked further into my closet and paused to retrieve a cream skirt neatly folded on the top shelf. I ran my thumb against the fabric in my hands and grinned at how soft it was. I then went on to select a crisp white dress shirt and a baby pink oversize sweater to go on top.

Once done, I hesitantly glanced at my reflection on the full-length mirror across my closet. I gasped at how soft and feminine I looked wearing the pastel hues.

I felt beautiful. For the first time that day, I felt like I was being my true self. It was an incredible feeling. If only I could feel like this forever I thought with a content sigh.

A/N Hey guys, this is my first Phan story so go easy on me. I'll try to update every weekend, but not promises. Like and leave comments if you want more. Till next time!