a/n: If I actually gave my chapters titles (which I don't because I'm not creative enough), I would name this one after a beautiful song by one of my all-time favorite bands: the Beatles. But I'm not going to say which song. You'll figure that out soon enough :)

The first day of school. High school. Finally.

Shane was both exhilarated and terrified. He had absolutely no idea what he would do upon walking through those doors. Despite his insistence that he wanted to hang out with Blaine, Micah, and Erin when he had talked with Blaine about it, he was a little scared. He had some friends in his grade, but he'd never been too close to anyone since all his time after school was spent at dance rehearsals. He wanted to hang out with his real friends. And his boyfriend. But he didn't want to be forced out.

Shane's mind still wasn't made up about this as he followed Blaine from their house on their bikes. He was barely aware of what he was doing until he was swept up into the crowds of students at the doors to the school.

"Moment of truth, Shane," Blaine said, echoing Shane's thoughts. "I'm going to meet Erin and Micah in the library. We love hanging out with you, but we really don't want you to go through what we have to go through. Whatever you decide, we'll support it."

As if to emphasize Blaine's point that it was dangerous to be near him, a passing jock roughly shoved him into the lockers. "Outta my way, lady," he grunted.

Blaine closed his eyes and sighed in a long-suffering way, but ignored the attack. "So?"

"Lead the way," Shane said.

Not that Blaine had expected anything different.

Micah's eyes lit up when he saw the second, taller curly head bobbing along behind Blaine. "Look what the cat dragged in," Blaine said jokingly.

Shane shyly took a seat next to Micah. The boys' hands found each other easily beneath the table. Immediately after, everyone pulled their schedules out and began comparing. Blaine and Micah had first period government and seventh period P.E. together. Shane thankfully had Ms. Corey for his third period English class. When the bell rang, Erin made her way to her AP English class, while Blaine and Micah guided Shane to his history class which they insisted was on the way to their class.

Shane recognized most of the faces in his class, even if he didn't know them. He took a seat next to James Ammerman, one of the boys who he'd occasionally hung out with in middle school. Moments before the bell rang, a boy that Shane was sure he remembered rushed into the room and took the last empty seat right in front of Shane. He spent most of the class period trying to remember who this boy was (if only I had paid attention during attendance...). He was dressed nicely – black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black vest. Suddenly, the name came to Shane: Whittaker. Something Whittaker.

By sheer luck, Blaine and Micah managed to make it through the morning unscathed. The same luck didn't hold for the lunch line, but neither expected it to. Blaine was walking out ahead of Micah and forgot to check all around him – maybe because it had been so long – and was completely surprised when he found himself flying through the air and landing on his stomach painfully. He looked up to see a group of the jocks from the night before. Jeremy, however, was noticeably absent.

"Don't fuck with us or we'll make your life a living hell," one said before they all walked away.

As Micah rushed over and helped Blaine stand up and clean off, Blaine couldn't help but think, My life already is a living hell. What else can you do?

Shane went through the line with some of his friends and they invited him to join them. He was torn, and for a moment he almost considered joining them. But instead, he said, "No thanks, guys. I think I'm going to go find my brother and hang out with them."

He saw them exchange looks, and figured that he probably wouldn't be getting that invitation many more times, if at all. As Shane walked out of the cafeteria, he noticed the same boy from his first period class sitting all alone at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria.

Micah was babbling excitedly about how the first Tiger Tribune meeting was after school.

"Yes, Micah, we know. We all heard the announcement about it this morning," Blaine said tiredly, rolling his eyes toward Erin.

"Hey guys!" Shane said, a welcome interruption to the current conversation.

"Thank God you're here," Micah said. "Aside from the obvious reason that I quite enjoy your company, now that I have you these two might stop ganging up against me."

Erin and Blaine adopted looks of mock indignation. "We would never gang up against you!" Erin said.

"And if we did," Blaine continued, "it would be for your own good!"

"Like finally getting your nose out of one of those books so you can experience the joy of this wonderful school!"

"See what I mean?" Micah said to Shane. The younger boy just laughed and sat down, ready to tear into his food.

As Micah and Shane shamelessly flirted over plates of poorly cooked food, Erin rounded on Blaine. "So, what really happened yesterday? No offense, but you look like shit."

"Thanks," Blaine said bitterly. The truth was, when he woke up, he was in even more pain than he'd felt the night before – probably because he'd accidentally rolled onto his side during the night. He'd inspected the damage that morning: there was a nasty bruise covering the rights side of his rib cage and extending downward, despite the fact that he could only recall being kicked in the ribs. In addition, his cheek and eye had swollen and were slightly discolored, although it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Unfortunately, it didn't stop him from feeling a shot of pain each time he took a bite of his barely palatable lunch.

"It was just a couple of punches. And I got kicked when I fell down," Blaine admitted, knowing that Erin would wrestle the truth from him eventually. "I got a punch in, though. Right in the face."

"So that's why Johnny Miller is walking around with a black eye. I knew it wasn't a football injury – he just didn't want to admit that you got him."

That made Blaine feel slightly better.

And the bruises were acting as a bit of protection for him. Maybe everyone thought someone had already beat him up today, but he received no worse than a shove in the hall and a few slurs shouted at him all day.

Micah bid farewell to Shane near the bike racks; no kissing, of course, but there was hand squeezing involved. He practically sprinted from there to the journalism room on the second floor. Upon entering, he looked around, trying to figure out where to go. "Are you another freshman?" a senior boy asked approaching Micah. He was tall and well-built, but not one of the jocks.

"No, my name's Micah Randall. I'm supposed to be one of the, uh, writers. I think," Micah said nervously.

"Oh, sorry, bro. We've just had a ton of frosh who don't really know how this works." The boy waved his hand over a crowd of four or five freshmen standing in the corner. "I'm Matthew, by the way," he continued, "editor-in-chief. You can sit over there with the other writers. We'll be assigning jobs soon."

Micah took a seat on the edge of the crowd. A few heads turned, as if they knew who he was, but no one expressed any objections to his presence. Micah breathed a sigh of relief.

"Alright," Matthew said, standing in the front of the room, "congrats to the 2009-2010 Tiger Tribune staff writers and editors." These comments were directed at Micah's half of the room. Matthew appeared to completely ignore the terrified freshmen. He continued speaking, probably something prepared about the journalistic values that the writers were expected to uphold. Then Matthew pulled out a list of potential stories for the first issue. "Usually, I'll let you guys pitch these, but since this is the first issue, the senior editors and I got together to pick this stuff out. I'll read out a topic, and if you want it, just give a shout."

The process was much smoother than Micah expected. When multiple people wanted the same topic, it was settled by a game of rock, paper, scissors. Micah had volunteered to do the interviews with new teachers.

"Okay," Matthew began. He had just handed out the last assignment. "One last thing: we need a photographer since Grant graduated last year. And I don't mean some teenage girl with a digital camera." This jibe earned a few appreciative laughs from his gathered staff. "Anyone know anything about photography?"

No one volunteered. Matthew looked around the room desperately. "Oh, come on, anyone?"

Finally, one of the terrified freshmen raised his hand and stepped forward. He was slim and slightly shorter than Micah. His brown hair was cut neatly and his bangs were swept stylishly to the side. He was wearing a pair of slim black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black vest. In a quiet, shaking voice the boy said, "I, uh, I do a lot of photography." A short pause, then he seemed to remember something else. "Here's my portfolio." He held out a binder with a shaking hand.

Matthew took the binder and flipped through the pages briefly. When he closed it, he looked down at the boy. "What's your name, frosh?"

"Jude," the boy said. "Jude Whittaker."

"Well, Jude Whittaker," Matthew said smiling, "you're hired."

When the meeting finally wrapped up, Micah walked up to Jude. "Hey Jude," he said as he extended a hand. "I'm Micah. I'm a sophomore, but this is my first time at the paper too."

"Oh," Jude said with a sigh of relief. "Nice to meet you." There was a short pause before he continued. "Do I know you from somewhere? Like, do we have a class together?"

"I don't think so, but—" Micah began.

"Oh, wait! Are you friends with the curly haired boy that the football players tripped in the cafeteria? I think I saw you helping him up," Jude interjected.

"Oh. Yeah."

"Why'd they do that? I mean, he wasn't doing anything as far as I could tell."

Micah winced. He knew this would come out eventually, no pun intended. Better tell the kid before they became friends and then … Blaine's experiences with "friends" flashed before Micah's eyes. "Well they – most of the school, actually – don't really approve of me or my friends." A pause. "Because … well, because we're gay."

Jude froze, terrified at the words that had just spilled from the other boy's mouth.

Crap, Micah thought, now I've done it. I've really freaked this kid out.

"Sorry for being so – forward," Micah said, pushing his glasses up the brim of his nose. "Most people here just avoid us. Or they're really brutal. Just a heads up. I swear, I won't hold it against you if you want to avoid me too. I know how important it is to have people to eat lunch with." With that, Micah turned and left the journalism room.

Jude was still frozen in place when Matthew came up to him. "Hey frosh," Matthew greeted, slapping Jude on the back. "We're going to need you to cover the football game this weekend, okay? Make sure to get some sweet shots of number 16 – Kevin Donovan – he's our MVP."

"Oh, okay," Jude mumbled.

Matthew paused and looked down at the boy. "Word of advice, alright? I saw you talking to Micah Randall a minute ago. He seems like a normal kid, I've seen samples of his writing – he's good, and I have no issues with him. But if you want to fall in with the right crowd, you should probably steer away from him and his friends."

Jude nodded numbly. "Thanks," he murmured. Inside, Jude was thinking, But what if I'm inclined that way?

Jude had spent his time at the middle school hanging out with the artsy people. Still, he didn't have any really close friends, and his middle school group was already splintering apart.

Over the summer, which Jude had spent with his family at their beach house, Jude had started to question his sexuality. He found that he'd spent more time gazing at the tanned and chiseled men with six packs than he did looking at the girls in skimpy bikinis.

Maybe I'm gay – or bi... Jude found himself considering the possibility a few weeks before the school year began.

He'd come to Stanton confident that he could let his newfound identity shine. But now … hearing about how Micah and his friends were treated just because they were gay?

The next day at school, Jude kept his eyes open for any sign of Micah and his friends. It wasn't difficult at all to find them. A group of four – Micah, the curly haired boy from yesterday, a beautiful red-haired girl, and another boy who Jude recognized from middle school – were walking down the hallway amid calls of "fag!" and "dyke!" One kid tripped Micah, and the taller curly haired boy (Shane Anderson, Jude remembered) stepped up in confrontation. "Hey man, lay off!"

"What the fuck are you doing with these freaks, Shane?" the boy leered.

"Does it matter? They're my friends."

"Well you better be careful or their fairy dust will rub off all over you."

Shane glared at the other boy. "Go to hell," he muttered before Micah grabbed his sleeve and pulled him away.

Jude gulped and walked toward his class, thinking about the scene he had just witnessed.

Jude and Shane had P.E. the same period. As Jude walked to the locker room a few feet behind Shane Anderson, he noticed a bag laying on the ground as if someone had just carelessly discarded it there. Shane, however, sighed deeply, grabbed the bag, and went into the unused gym.

From within the equipment closet, Micah could hear the muffled footsteps of someone crossing the gym. They sounded heavier than Erin's. After some work, the doors were opened to reveal Shane. Micah's heart leapt slightly.

"Hey," Shane smiled and bit his lip. "You okay?"

"Nothing unusual," Micah said, standing up and brushing off his clothes.

Shane looked around and grinned wickedly. "You know," he said, "we're alone right now."

"Oh really. Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Micah asked flirtatiously.

Shane nodded and pushed Micah against the closet door, embracing him and pressing his lips against the older boy's. After about a minute, the boys broke apart.

"I wouldn't mind this nearly as much if that was how it always ended," Micah said as he indicated the closet behind them.

"Well, I'm glad to make it better," Shane said, laughing. The two boys leaned in again for another kiss, but broke apart sooner than last time.

"To class?" Micah said, sighing resignedly.

"To class," Shane agreed.

Jude saw Micah and Shane exit the small gym as he was getting a drink from the water fountain. Micah held the bag that had been on the ground earlier. Both boys looked rather flushed as they bid each other good bye.

Before he had gotten a drink of water, though, Jude had checked in on what Shane Anderson was doing in the gym.

Jude continued watching the four over the next few days. Shane only got a small, verbal fraction of the abuse. Although he hung out with the gay kids, everyone thought he was straight. Micah, the other curly haired boy, and the girl were teased and bullied mercilessly.

And yet, at lunch on Friday, Jude found himself holding his lunching tray and playing host to an incredibly violent inner battle. For the past week, he'd been either sitting alone or on the periphery of a table with kids he knew from middle school. But today, he hesitated as he made to turn toward his lonely corner table. He watched as some of the jocks threw their ketchup coated fries at the curly haired boy. One or two landed right in the boy's hair, but he just hunched his shoulders and kept walking.

Something deep within Jude seized him at that moment. He tightened his grip on his tray of food and followed the other boy out of the cafeteria. Jude hesitated at the outside door, noting that the boy had joined Shane, Micah, and the girl. The girl jumped to action immediately and picked the fries out of his hair.

Jude gulped and began walking towards them. When he reached the bottom of the steps, the curly haired boy looked up and the two locked eyes for a minute. Micah noticed where Blaine's gaze fell and started when he saw the freshman from the newspaper.

The boy shrugged and looked scared. "Mind if I join you?" he asked timidly.

A look of surprise crossed all four faces in front of him. The girl was the first to recover saying, "Of course."

He sat down somewhat awkwardly and began eating in silence. Slowly, the rest of the group's conversation picked back up.

"So Jude," Shane said a few minutes later, shocking the boy from his reverie. "Can you believe that we've already got a history test next week? I mean, we've only been in school for a week!"

Jude nodded and swallowed his food. "At least it's stuff that we covered last year," he said. He was glad that Shane had remembered that they had history together.

The other boy cleared his throat, and Shane seemed to suddenly remember something. "Right! Introductions!" he said with a laugh. He pointed to the curly haired boy. "This is my older brother, Blaine. Don't be fooled by his lack of height. He actually is older than me." Blaine glared at Shane. "This is Erin, she's a junior," he said, pointing to the girl. "And this is Micah. He's a sophomore like Blaine."

"We've met, actually," Jude said.

"Yeah, we're on the paper together," Micah supplied.

"Do you write?" Blaine asked casually.

Jude shook his head. "No, I take pictures."

"That's really cool! You have to be pretty good to get that position as a freshman."

"I'm okay. I was the only one, actually."

"Yeah, but Matthew showed us his portfolio and he's fantastic!" Micah gushed.

Jude smiled. He barely knew any of these people, and yet they were so much nicer to him than any of his "friends" that he had been hanging out with.

"What do you have this afternoon?" Shane asked.

"English, photography, and biology."

"Who do you have for English?" Blaine asked with a much more serious tone.

"Um … Strickland."

Everyone winced. "What?" Jude asked, worry building in his chest. All eyes flew to Blaine for explanation.

"I had him last year. He hated me. I'm sure he wasn't a bad teacher or anything, but... It sucked because he was kinda a homophobe." Blaine left it there; he didn't want to make any assumptions about Jude or alienate him in any way.

Jude's face fell, and he waited for any of them to ask the big question. But none of them did. And for that, he was grateful. Because he still didn't quite know the answer himself.

That evening, Jude went home and put a new roll of film in his camera and tucked an extra into his camera bag. He wasn't excited to have to spend an evening surrounded by all the jocks that he had heard horror stories about, but he was excited for his first newspaper assignment.

His mother drops him off at the stadium and tells him that she'll be back when the game is over. He's still early; Matthew had wanted shots of everything, including the team's procession from the gym locker rooms to the field. The gym doors opened and Jude jumped back in shock – was it already starting this early?

Instead a group of about 12 kids – 11 girls and one boy – came out of the gym. They were laughing and joking. They were all dressed the same, too. The girls wore identical skirts and the boy had a pair of black dance pants. They paired them with "Stanton Football" t-shirts. The boy turned around and Jude immediately recognized him. "Shane?" he called.

"Jude!" the other boy shouted, bouncing over to him while the rest of his group walked ahead to the stadium. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm taking pictures for the paper. What are you doing here?"

"I'm on the dance team! This is our first performance!"

"Is Micah or anyone else here then?"

"No, I told them not to risk it. Plus, Micah doesn't really like football."

"Oh. Okay."

"Listen, I've gotta go! But we should hang out after the game!" Shane runs off before Jude can say anything.

Shane finds Jude after the game – a close victory by the home team – and invites him to go to a local diner with the dance team and some of their other friends. Jude politely turns Shane down, claiming that he has to get to work on his pictures. Shane looks a little sad – he actually wanted to hang out with Jude. Jude promises him that it'll happen another time.

In school on Tuesday, Shane and Jude are partners in P.E. for the badminton unit. Shane is actually pretty good. With all his energy, he runs around the court and returns almost every volley. Jude, on the other hand, spends most of the time hiding behind his racket, hoping not to get hit.

As they walk back to the locker room, Shane casually asks, "So, are you going to be eating with us again?"

Jude gets a little scared. "Um, can I?" he stutters.

"Of course! We're all really glad to have another person to hang out with at school!"

"Good."

Shane gets serious with his next question. "You do know why we eat on the stairs, right? Why Blaine and Micah get beat up all the time?"

Jude swallows and nods.

"So, you know what hanging out with us will look like to all the jocks and bullies and everyone, right?"

Jude nods again.

"I just wanted to make sure because, like I said, we all like hanging out with you, but you're kinda ostracizing yourself. Like I don't get as much shit because they all think that this girl from one of my dance classes is my girlfriend, but they might think that you..." Shane trailed off.

Jude doesn't say anything, he just ties his shoelaces without looking up at Shane.

"Can I ask you a really personal question?" Shane finally says.

Jude's heartbeat increases, but he calmly nods his head. "I guess."

"Are you – I mean, um – are you gay?"

Jude is silent for a minute too long. "Sorry, I'm not trying to assume something, it's just that you chose to hang out with us and you knew everything, so I thought that maybe-" Shane rambles.

"Yeah," Jude finally says, cutting Shane off.

Now is Shane's turn to be silent. He smiles at the other boy, thought, and finally says, "Cool."