Matt thought he could have handled the entire thing better if the first thing he heard when Tim opened the door to his room was a group of freshmen girls squealing over his boyfriend. They tried to keep quiet, but Matt heard everything they said. "Mr. Van der Heide is the sexiest teacher in the school." One brunette with caked on make-up cooed to a blonde girl. "I know! Look at his jawline! It would totally give you a nice place to sit, if you know what I mean." the blonde almost moaned, and Matt gave her a look of disgust that probably went unnoticed. "I don't know, I think that Mr. Adnan is way hotter," a redhead said dreamily. Gross, Matt thought. Mr. Adnan was like, 30, with a wife and 2 kids. "Don't you think it's a little weird you guys are saying stuff like this? These guys are like, twice our age, and I'm sure Mr. Van der Heide can hear you." A girl with dark hair and dark skin and a red ribbon in her hair said this, and Matt gave her a gracious look. Her, Matt liked her.
The girls went on about how they wanted Mr. Van der Heide to hear them, and Tim sped up his pace a bit, giving an off-handed remark to the class waiting outside that he would be right back. Once they were out of earshot, Matt spoke up. "This is what you deal with?" he asked, and Tim groaned. "Every single day." He said softly. "You'd think they would have caught on that you weren't interested." Matt said. They turned a corner and Matt snuck a look at Tim, who looked just as disgusted as Matt felt after hearing them. "Those girls asked why I was moving schools the other day, and I flat-out told them it was so I could live with my boyfriend in Seattle. I think it just made them worse." Tim sounded utterly fed-up with the situation, and Matt didn't blame him.
However, all thoughts of Tim's not-so-secret admirers left Matt's head as they got to the beginning of the hallway where Matt's next class was. Matt swallowed nervously, and Tim put a protective hand on his shoulder. "I really don't want to go to this class, Tim." He said, breathing out uneasily. "I know you don't. You have to." The pair walked slowly, both of them wanting to stay away for as long as possible. "Give me a write up, or something. I'll get in trouble but I'll at least get to spend this period in the office." Matt tried, wanting more than anything to just not go to this class. "I won't jeopardize your graduation, Matt." Tim said, and Matt knew his resolve wouldn't break. "He's going to say something to me, I know he will." The sentence came out a lot weaker than Matt wanted it to sound. "Ignore him. Don't say a word to him. Sit on the other side of the class and text me the entire time." Tim's hand gripped Matt's shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be reassuring, but nothing could reassure Matt just then.
The two approached the door, and Matt gave another quick look to Tim. He really did look sorry for having to subject Matt to what he was about to go through. "If it gets too bad, tell me. I'll find a way to get you out of the class." Tim said, and Matt nodded. It wasn't like he could say no, and refuse to go in the room. Not only was that childish, but skipping a class would definitely knock him out of graduation. "I'll be right down the hall." Tim said, and before Matt could respond, Tim was walking back to his room.
Matt nervously gripped his hand into a fist, his knuckles turning white. Anxiety gnawed at the pit of his stomach, but he walked into the door anyways. He had to be strong if he was going to survive 45 minutes of this class. He couldn't have the beginning of a panic attack before he even sat down. Luckily, Alfred was nowhere in sight, and maybe if he was lucky, he wouldn't even be at school today. Matt stole a quick look out the window to the student parking lot, however, and saw Alfred's BMW parked in the same place it always sat, every day. Al never missed school, what was Matt thinking? Matt gritted his teeth and chose a seat in the back, as far away from his assigned seat as he could get. He put his head down immediately, and hoped that he could just sleep the class away and be back at Tim's house before he knew it.
Of course, that wouldn't happen. Mr. Anderson walked into the room, and almost immediately snapped at Matt. "You might be graduating in a few days, Kirkland, but I'm not going to let you sleep the period away in the back. Get in your assigned seat." Matt sighed at the command, but followed it anyways. He went to the seat he spent the whole year in, sure that Alfred would be walking in any second to make his life a living hell.
And Matt was right. Not three seconds after Matt cursed Mr. Anderson in his mind for moving him, Alfred entered the room. He tried the same thing Matt did, and actually chose to sit in the same seat, and got the same treatment from Mr. Anderson. "What is it with you Kirklands and wanting to avoid learning today? Assigned seat, now." Alfred made almost the same sigh Matt did, and threw his backpack at the seat beside Matt. Gritting his teeth harder, Matt looked straight ahead, not even acknowledging his brother's (not my brother anymore Matt corrected himself) presence.
That wouldn't last for long, though. "Saw your boyfriend in the hall. Did he walk you here?" Alfred said, mockingly. Of course he would have to say something like that. "Not now, Alfred." Matt responded, his voice quieter than it normally was. "Too scared to come on your own and face me?" Alfred asked. "I said not now, Alfred." Matt's voice was a little more sure of itself this time, and that seemed to shock Alfred into silence. A silence that, of course, only lasted a few minutes.
"I'd be scared to face me too after what happened. I mean, I find out you're a butt-fucking faggot and then you have the nerve to tell Arthur about Mei?" Alfred sounded angry, and Matt risked a quick look to him. He was disheveled, and he wore the same clothes he had on last night. His hair hadn't been washed or even brushed, and he looked dirty, from head to toe. Matt was almost concerned when he saw bruises and abrasions on Alfred's knuckles. He had probably been punching walls. "Where did you sleep last night, Alfred?" Matt asked, before he could catch himself and realize that was a bad idea. "On a fucking park bench. Not all of us have the luxury of sleeping with their pedophile boyfriend in his cushy 2-bedroom house. But that's not what I said, is it?" Alfred was fighting to keep his voice at a volume that wouldn't alert Mr. Anderson, who had started teaching.
"You need to call Toris or somebody, so you can have a place to sleep until graduation-" Matt tried. Alfred might have done some bad things to him, but that doesn't mean he wanted him sleeping on a park bench. Alfred cut him off, though. "Do you think I didn't try that? Toris doesn't want someone who impregnated a 15 year old girl and then left her staying at his house. Thanks, by the way, for sicking your Chinese teacher on me about that." Alfred said with an eye roll. "You shouldn't have left her if you didn't want-" Alfred cut Matt off. "I'm not raising a child and ruining my chances at Harvard, Matt. Especially now that I'm paying for it on my own."
Matt was in awe at Alfred's statement. "So you'll leave a 15 year old girl to raise a child on her own?" Matt asked incredulously. "I'm not stopping her from getting an abortion." Alfred said defiantly. "I cannot believe you, Alfred." Matt said, and turned his attention towards Mr. Anderson, who had started to review symbolism in American literature of the 20's. Alfred said something in response, but Matt ignored it. That was the best course of action, ignoring him for the remaining 30 minutes of class. Alfred wasn't going to have that, though.
Matt felt a sharp pain in his side, and looked down to see that Alfred had jabbed him roughly. "Fucking listen to me, faggot." His voice was dangerously loud, and Matt was scared he would attract Mr. Anderson's attention. "Fuck off, Alfred. You said it yourself, I'm not your brother anymore." Matt took in a deep breath. It hurt him to say that. "So act like it, if you aren't going to forgive me. Act like I'm just a stranger who shares the same last name as you, and leave me alone. Please." Matt said, and looked back to Mr. Anderson. He was still gripping his hands tightly into fists under the table, and gritting his teeth, and he was probably seconds away from a panic attack, but at least that shocked Alfred enough into leaving him alone. For the moment.
"I'm not gonna let this go, Mattie. I won't let you date that pedophile." Alfred said, and his use of Matt's nickname through Matt off for a second. Did that mean that Alfred didn't really hate him? No, it was probably just habit. Matt breathed out harshly and bit at his lip. "You have bigger things to worry about besides my boyfriend. And don't you call him a pedophile when you're the one who knocked up a 15 year old, you're basically a child molester." Matt regretted saying that the second it left his mouth, but he couldn't stop it. Matt was mad, now, more mad than nervous. He couldn't filter himself properly.
"You little faggot," was all Matt heard from Alfred, and suddenly his fist collided with Matt's jaw. Matt couldn't react in time, and was thrown to the floor by his brother, who was throwing punches at his face now. Matt heard his glasses crack, and, wanting to avoid any serious injury that might occur from glass in his eyes, remembered all the fights he had while playing hockey, and put all his strength into a single punch to Alfred's throat. Alfred chocked a bit and let up, which allowed Matt to at least pull his glasses off before his brother started back at his assault. He grabbed Matt by the neck and squeezed, and suddenly Matt couldn't breathe. Again, remembering his hockey fights, Matt grabbed the fleshy underside of Alfred's upper arm and pinched, causing him to let go immediately. (And, wow, was that a lot easier when the person fighting didn't have on hockey pads.)
When Alfred let up on Matt, he was grabbed by Mr. Anderson, who was surprisingly strong for an English teacher. "Alright, Alfred, to the office. Matt, go to the nurse, you're bleeding a bit." Mr. Anderson said, holding a struggling Alfred. Matt stood up, and realized then that, yes, he was bleeding. His nose was probably broken (nothing he wasn't used to,) and some glass shards had scratched the area around his eyes. Great. Matt grabbed a box of tissues and left the room, not paying any attention to the whispers that were going on behind him.
Matt pressed a wad of tissues to his nose, and it occurred to him that he should probably tell Tim what had happened before he went to his room after school and had a broken nose, no glasses, and probably severe bruising by then. So, as he walked to the nurse, he pulled out his phone, and texted Tim. I have to tell you something, but don't freak out. The last thing Matt wanted was an angry Tim running around the school. That text probably didn't help though. Tim's reply was instant. Tell me what happened. Matt was changing out his tissue (he was bleeding a lot,) and didn't reply fast enough (within 30 seconds,) and Tim sent another text. Matthew, tell me NOW. Yeah, he was probably going to have an angry Tim either way.
I got in a fight but don't get mad. It wasn't too late to try, Matt thought. Of course I'm going to get fucking mad! Was it Alfred? Where are you? Matt didn't know Tim could even text that fast, but he tried to keep up. Please don't, yes, nurse's office. He sent in reply, and finally arrived at the nurse's office after soaking through another tissue. He walked in, and the nurse started working on patching him up straight away. Tim arrived minutes later, slightly out of breath. Did he run?
"What happened?" Oh, he sounded angry. "Alfred beat me up," Matt said, his head tilted back in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "I can see that. What started it?" Tim asked, verging on interrogation. Matt took a quick look around the office to make sure the nurse wasn't around to hear. "He said you were a pedophile, so I reminded him he's the one who got a 15 year old girl pregnant. I might have, uh, called him a child molester." Matt said, shrugging the best he could. "I hope you gave him as good as he gave you," Tim said, leaning on the wall beside him. "About that," Matt chuckled nervously. Tim had made his fight policy clear the first day of class: 'if you're going to fight in here, I give whoever's getting wailed on the privilege to fight back, fuck the school rule that says you can't.'
"You didn't even throw a punch, did you, babe?" Tim asked, sighing softly. "I got a few good one in." Matt said, and Tim smiled. "Good. Asshole got what was coming to him. And now he won't graduate," Tim's smile turned into a smirk, and Matt shook his head. "Doubt it. Principal Vargas loves him to death, since he's played football so long. Alfred could shoot up the school and get a slap on the wrists from him. He'll be walking, I guarantee it." Matt said. "Fucked up school, can't wait to get out of here," Tim growled under his breath, and Matt nodded. "I feel that."
The two were silent for a while, until the nurse said it was okay for Matt to leave. Tim went with Matt back to Mr. Anderson's to grab his bag, and Alfred was already back in class with a smug look on his face. Luckily, Mr. Anderson didn't seem to care that Matt flipped Alfred off and left with 5 minutes of class left. Tim's class definitely didn't care when Tim grabbed his belongings and left them alone for the rest of the day. Before long, the couple had left the school, and were speeding back to Tim's home, Tim with a frighteningly angry look on his face, and Matt with a waning adrenaline rush.