The thing about Alex's Literature class was that it was really really easy. This was, mainly, because Mrs. Malevowitcz was extremely nice. She was a lenient grader, a cheerful teacher, and overall, just a really good person. She fostered an atmosphere of general optimism, and Alex had no problems concentrating and motivating himself. He learned a lot, and he liked reading, and he shared the class with Tom, James Hale, Abhaya Subramanian, and a couple other close friends.
The class was a welcome stress relief from his other, more challenging courses: Advanced Calculus, Physics, and European History.
But that Monday morning, he was a little keyed up, if only because Tom, seated to his right, was quietly losing it.
Because Mrs. Malevowitcz was choosing groups for the next group project.
"Oh my God it's Chemistry all over again," Tom whispered at his side, horrified.
Alex rolled his eyes. "Tom. It's not that bad. Even if we're not put in the same group, you like almost everyone in this class, don't you?"
"Almost everyone, that's exactly right. Almost everyone." He glanced nervously over to where Macy Joiner was seated, and accidentally made eye contact.
"Oh my God she was staring at me," Tom squeaked, whipping his head back around and slouching low in his chair, as if that would somehow remove himself from Macy's line of sight.
Abhaya Subramanian chortled and patted Tom on the shoulder. "Settle down there, mate. The chances of you two getting put together are pretty low. I wouldn't start to worry just yet."
"Yet being the operative word," James Hale said, teeth gleaming in a wicked smile.
Alex felt his mouth twitch, and Tom immediately glared at him.
"You shut up right now, Alex Rider."
"What?" He held up his hands, somewhat offended. "I didn't even say anything! It's James and Abhaya you should be getting onto!"
"James and Abhaya are pretty bloody awful and their complete insensitivity on the topic is to be anticipated," Tom retorted. "But I expected better from you, young man, considering that there just might be a certain someone you might not want to get partnered with, either."
He wiggled his eyebrows, and James and Abhaya looked over to Alex.
"What's this that he's talking about then, eh?" James asked in interest, and Alex felt the blood rush to his face.
"Nothing. Tom's just being a git."
"No no no," Abhaya insisted, scooting forward. "It sounds like little Alex is avoiding someone. Who? Why? What'd you do?"
"Why do you think I did anything?" Alex asked, a little insulted.
James had been looking around the classroom. "Is it Lorena Slater? I think she might have been glaring over here a while ago."
"That was actually because of me," Tom admitted sheepishly. "I accidentally smacked her in the face with my binder in first block."
"You accidentally-?" James shook his head, and Alex could visibly see him decide not to pursue it. Good choice. "Is it Morgan Bright? I know you two have some pretty different political views."
"Not Morgan either," Tom answered for Alex before he could open his mouth. The short boy seemed to be enjoying the guessing game.
Alex, however, was not.
"Is it Jon Browne?"
"Nope."
"Pin Tae-Hyun?"
"Not it!"
"Taieesha Smith?"
"Nah!"
"I think I hate this friendship." Alex said levelly, pointing dark looks at his friends, who didn't seem at all concerned.
Luckily for him, it was just at that moment that Mrs. Malevowitcz gave three loud claps, drawing the attention of the class.
"Okay!" She said, beaming. "I've figured out the groups! I've decided to pair y'all up with people who might challenge you to think outside of the box. I want this project to be as creative as you can possibly make it, so when I call out the names of who you're with, group up and start brainstorming!"
Alex heard Tom hold his breath as Mrs. Malevowitcz started to pair kids up.
"It'll be you four… You four… John, you and Yazmeen move over there and join those two… Tom, Abhaya, I'm leaving you guys together, but you'd better not make any trouble. Y'all are with Taieesha and Jashanna over there. Shivel, you join those three… And that just leaves Alex, Maria, Martinique, and Day over in that other corner there."
She grinned and flapped her hands at the class. "Now go! Brainstorm! Wow me with your creative intellect!"
She did not seem to be aware that Alex's mind has just short-circuited and lit a feeling of dread that swept it's way all throughout his body.
Tom was more perceptive. Or at least, more in touch with the situation at hand.
"Well, you're screwed."
He was not, however, any more considerate.
"I hate you so much," Alex hissed, glaring at Tom as he sprung to his feet in gleeful relief. "You may have escaped your dreaded fate, but another end will come soon- by my hands."
Tom just laughed. "Okay there Emperor Palpatine, calm down. It's really not that bad."
"Repeating my own words back to me isn't going to make me like you any more, you know."
"But it can't make you like me any less! Now look, this is actually a good thing. Personally? I'm hyped. You need to take this time to get to know Day, and let him get to know you. Just be yourself! That's all you need to do! He'll like you back soon enough, trust me."
He sounded so earnest and hopeful that some of Alex's ire melted. But not all. "You've destroyed my life." He leaned closer and spoke in an undertone. "If we hadn't had that talk on Friday, and if you hadn't brought it up on Saturday and Sunday, I wouldn't be feeling so bad!"
"Badly," Tom corrected, standing. "Adverbs, Alex, adverbs. Now seriously, shoo on."
He patted Alex on the head and darted off to the corner to sit with Abhaya and his other group mates.
Alex clenched his fist. James was staring at him. While Abhaya had sprung up and out of his seat as soon as Mrs. Malevowitcz had announced the groups, James had not.
"Day?" He said incredulously. "Day Webster? Alex, I'm a straight male, and I can be pretty dense a lot of the time, but did Tom just insinuate that you are crushing on Day Webster?"
Alex blanched. He looked back at James in pure horror, and felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. "I- what? N-No. No! He just- Tom just-" There was literally nothing for him to say. No excuse. He sagged in his seat. "I really didn't want anyone to know." He said miserably.
Seriously, this time last Friday not a single soul had been aware of his stupid infatuation, but now Tom, Jerry, and James knew? If they had been on the second story Alex probably would have thrown himself out the nearest window by then.
"Well, we're mates, aren't we?" said James hesitantly. He awkwardly patted his friend on the arm, perhaps aware of Alex's pathetic, self-destructive thoughts. James was much less dense than he let on, honestly. "I didn't know you were gay, is all. I won't tell anyone, I promise."
"I'm not gay, I just-" He cut himself off. He really didn't want to get into it with James right now. "Look, thanks. I appreciate you not being weird about this. Can we talk more later?"
"Yeah, sure. No problem. I guess it's time for us to get to work." James surprised him then by grinning brightly. "So I guess Webster really brightens up your Day then, huh?"
"You shut up Hale," Alex groaned in disbelief. "That was absolutely the worst pun I've heard in my entire life and I practically live with Tom and Jerry. If you don't get out of my sight in the next two seconds I will literally kill you."
Great. Just what he needed- another Tom. Now he really wished there was a convenient window nearby.
James laughed and held up his hands, and soon the other boy had joined his group and Alex was left on his own.
He took a deep breath, straightened his collar, stood, and walked over to where his group had shoved their four desks together.
Maria Sanchez was the first to greet him. "Alex! Alex Rider, right?" She beamed up at him from a face surrounded by haloing curls. "We had Advanced Algebra together last year! Do you remember me? I sat in the corner with Kelli Berlioz."
Alex nodded. "Yeah, I remember you Maria." He quirked a smile at the girl.
Maria was kind of hard to forget. She was tall and loud and probably the most cheerful, optimistic, overall happiest person Alex had ever come across. She was always surrounded by her group of equally happy friends, and she was never at a loss for a kind word to say- to anybody. She had even managed to befriend Umar Bukhari, who was, if Alex was being honest with himself, the angriest boy to ever exist. Umar was a punk and it was rumoured that he sold drugs to primary schoolers. But Maria had not only befriended him, she had been invited to his Birthday party. It was both incredibly impressive and extremely intimidating. Alex was glad to be in a group with her. But… not so much the other two.
"Martinique." He gave the second girl a nod and she raised her eyebrow back at him. She had a shock of hot magenta-pink hair and her eyes were so dark they were nearly black.
"Alex.
Martinique Hasegawa was also intimidating, but for different reasons. She was smart- almost frighteningly so. She spoke at least three languages and somehow made A+s on everything, even though she always seemed completely bored in class. She aced every test without any visible effort, and she somehow still had time to be heavily involved in school clubs. This propensity for good grades probably should have made Alex more excited to work with her but… she put him on edge, and the last thing he wanted was to be on edge- especially considering the fact that the other person in his group was Day.
Day was- Day was hot. He had dark hair that was pretty obviously dyed, and deep brown eyes. He wore a leather jacket that made him look a bit like a punk, but certainly a very cool punk. He was an amazing artist- he'd had some of his charcoal portraits displayed in the library, and Alex knew a good many classmates who had commissioned paintings from Day. He was a bit quiet, but Alex had had him in his World History class the year before, and he knew that Day was nice and pretty funny and-
And currently watching his face closely, dark eyes blank.
Blood immediately rushed to his face and he sat down abruptly in his chair so forcefully that he almost hurt himself.
"Time to get started then?" He asked, hanging his head so that his hair shaded his blush. He rooted around in his bag for a pencil to avoid looking at Day. Stupid crush.
"Oh yeah, sure," Maria twirled a finger through her thick chestnut hair and chewed on her bottom lip. "So we have to find people in real life who mirror the characters of Romeo and Juliet… Doesn't sound too hard?"
"Except for each person we also have to have a full page of biographical information, four pictures, and a three page analysis," drawled Martinique. "It's going to be more labour intensive than you think."
"Right, but not hard! And it'll be fun! We can do real people, people we know!"
This was the unfortunate part for Alex, simply because he didn't really know a lot of people. He had no family, and his friend group honestly only consisted of Tom, James, Abhaya, and maybe one or two other kids. He wasn't going to have a whole lot to contribute in that regard.
"But we don't have to," he interjected. "I can do some brainstorming on historical figures who might fit the requirements."
"Sure. Sounds good. Keep an open mind though and if you think of someone you know, great." Martinique looked to Day who was lounging casually back in his seat, twirling a pencil in his fingers. "Day, anything to add?"
Day shrugged, still twirling the pencil. "Not really. I understand the assignment."
"Right. Well. Here's how this is going to go." Martinique took out her phone and opened up her contacts. "Maria, I have your number. Alex, Day, I'm going to need yours. I'll start a group chat and we can discuss this more tonight. We're going to be working together on this tomorrow, but I think it would be good if we could get together Thursday or Friday to do some more and discuss how things are coming along. Here."
She handed her cell to Alex, who took it hesitantly. He looked at her for a moment, but she only stared back, brow raised as if to say 'Well?'
He punched in his number and then handed the cell to Day, being careful not to brush hands with the other boy.
"Okay, so we have like 15 minutes of school left. I don't really want to do any work so I propose we just call it a day. Brainstorm some tonight, and then actually start stuff tomorrow."
"Sounds good to me," said Day as he fiddled with Martinique's phone.
Maria nodded and Alex shrugged.
He looked around the classroom. The other groups were all chattering loudly amongst themselves. Tom and Abhaya were arm-wrestling very violently and James was quite clearly flirting with Yazmeen Peterman. He liked Mrs. Malevowitcz's class, he really did. It was one of the only places that he could almost fully relax, which was funny, considering her room was right next door to where an MI6 sanctioned sniper had nearly killed his best friend.
The official story for the shooting was that it was a terror attack. A lone gunman had shot up the school due to anti-British sentiments. He'd been promptly caught, tried, and thrown into prison, to wait out the rest of his life on death row. Alex wasn't sure who he really was, considering the real shooter had been killed when Alex had crashed his helicopter into the river, but there was a man, a real man, taking the fall for the attack.
Alex was thankful to Mrs. Jones for the cover up. The attack couldn't be traced back to him, which meant that he was allowed to go back to Brookland Comprehensive, and he needed Brookland. Tom was here. James was here. And the school was one of the only places where he could pretend to be normal. At Brookland, nobody knew that he'd killed a man at the age of 14- that he'd killed several men, and women too. They didn't know that he had deep burn scars seared across his back, they didn't know that he'd once joined a terrorist organization, and they certainly didn't know that he was a completely useless screw-up who destroyed everything he touched.
So.
He needed Brookland, in a way that he didn't need much else.
Which was why, despite the awkward pit in his stomach, and the way heat still lingered at the tips of his ears, he was happy to ignore his groupmates and wile away the last 15 minutes of class playing Candy Crush and wallowing in his misery.
It did not happen like that.
"Hey boo," Tom said loudly, and Alex looked up just in time to see his friend hurl his body right at him.
"Jesus Christ," He gasped out as Tom's bony elbows collided with his ribs, forcing all the air out of his lungs. "Tom no."
"Tom yes." Tom snatched his phone out of his hands and immediately began to take selfies, even as he settled more comfortably on Alex's lap. "Can't I visit my best friend?"
He saw his groupmates exchange looks and Alex felt his face flush bright red. "You're the most unnecessary person I've ever met and I want you to get off."
"There's nowhere else to sit," Tom said, sticking out his tongue and winking at Alex's camera.
"There's a chair right there," Martinique pointed out, but she sounded almost as defeated as Alex felt.
"Hey Tom," Maria said, sounding much less glum than Martinique. "It's nice to see you!"
"And it's nice to see you too Maria." He smiled at her charmingly, then turned to Day. "And who might you be?"
Day stared at him. "Tom… We… We have European History together."
Tom stared at him blankly.
"We sit three desks apart!"
"Really?" Tom rubbed a hand over his chin in confusion. "Alex, who is this?"
Now it was Alex's turn to stare at him. Oh. Oh no. Tom was up to his games. He grit his teeth.
"This is Day Webster."
"Hmm…" Tom murmured, even as Day now turned to look at Alex.
"So you do know my name."
"Why wouldn't I?" He muttered, hoping that Day would drop it.
He didn't.
"Well, you greeted both Martinique and Maria by name." Day shrugged. "I just thought that you didn't remember me. We had World History together last year."
"Yeah. With Mrs. Martell."
"Hmm." Day looked carefully at him, and Alex felt like sinking into the floor.
Tom, perhaps sensing his abject misery, gave him a solid pat on the head. "Don't take it personally Day- Alex sometimes isn't such a people person. Doesn't mean he doesn't like you or anything. Right Alex?"
"...Right."
"Because he probably does like you- maybe a whole lot! You'll never even know until you talk to him! He's just like that!"
Tom laughed loudly then, like he'd just said something amazingly funny. Alex wondered whether it might be worth it to just leave class, go up to the school's roof, and literally throw himself to his death. It felt, at the moment, like the only reasonable course of action.
His mouth worked for a moment. "Right," he finally managed to repeat.
Martinique sighed again. "So you don't- you know- want anything? You're just here to hang out?"
"Is that illegal?"
"No. Possible it should be though." She stood and gathered her belongings. "I'm going to the bathroom."
Tom, Alex, Day, and Maria watched as she snagged the bathroom pass from its hook and walked out the door.
"Er." Tom said. "Do you… think she's coming back?"
"No," Day said slowly. "No, I don't think so."
"Tom," Alex groaned, and shoved his best friend off his lap, ignoring his indignant yelp. "What did you do to Martinique?"
"Nothing! She's just kind of- you know- a little annoyed with me. Not by any fault of my own, of course." Tom moved to the empty seat in a huff.
Maria looked at him, and then quirked a grin. "Oh. Wait a minute. You two are partnered together in Chemistry, right? Allie told me."
"Allie?" Tom sat up straight. "Wait, Allie Masters? She mentioned me?"
"Well. Sort of. She told me about all the different groups in Chem. Mentioned that yours seemed a bit- er- tense."
"I pretended my arm was dissolving in nitric acid," Tom explained at Alex's questioning look. "I mean, it was pretty funny because like, obviously I was okay and my performance was stellar, but Martinique didn't take it so well."
Alex shook his head. Tom was a great friend and a really good guy, but his sense of humour was... sometimes just a shade... off.
"Probably shouldn't do that again mate."
"Probably shouldn't have done that in the first place," Day corrected, although when Alex glanced over at him, his lips were twitching. Apparently Day's sense of humour was a little off too. He wasn't sure why this pleased him so much.
He had to force himself to look away from the small smirk on Day's face, which was doing weird things to his stomach. When he shifted his eyes back to Tom, he found that his best friend was staring directly at him and grinning. Broadly.
"So anyway!" Tom said happily, standing and beaming down at the three of them. "Just came to say hello! Nice to meet you Day!"
Then he tossed ALex his phone and was gone, back to Abhaya who gave him a hefty slap on the back in welcome.
"I love Tom," Maria giggled, watching after him.
"Tom might be halfway insane," Day retorted, and Alex snorted.
"There's no 'might' about it, I'm afraid."
Day turned toward him and cocked his head, examining him critically, and Alex suddenly lost all feeling in his extremities. "So. Alex. How exactly did you and Tom become friends then? You two don't seem very alike.
"We bonded over football."
"Oh right," Maria said. "You used to be on the team. You were pretty good!"
"Thanks."
"Why'd you quit?" Day asked.
Alex shrugged uncomfortably. "Health complications." He knew he was being short with his groupmates, but it was a difficult situation to talk about. He couldn't exactly explain that he'd been forced off the team for spending too much time killing terrorists and undermining foreign governments. To anyone at the school who cared to remember, Alex had, supposedly, been absent in huge portions due to strep throat, bronchitis, appendicitis, and complications ensuing from the appendicitis surgery.
Maria was nodding. She was, apparently, one of those people who cared to remember. "Oh yeah, true, you missed a whole lot of school the year before last. I remember that."
"Ah," Day said. "Before I moved here then."
Which was one of the reasons that Alex found Day so attractive- he'd moved to Brookland after Alex had to deal with his entire life being snatched out from under his feet like a rug. Day had missed the days of silence and the rumours of gang warfare, and the awkward, concerned looks everyone had given Alex on the rare occasions he was allowed back in school. He had appeared in an entirely separate part of Alex's life, and he was as of yet seemingly unaware of just how much of a mess Alex really was.
But thinking about how attractive he found Day made him uncomfortable, so he quickly cleared his throat and asked, "What about you? Are you involved in any- uh- extracurriculars?"
The segue was anything but smooth, but Day simply blinked calmly at him. "I'm in the Art Honors Society and the British Sign Language Club. Both are pretty fun."
"Oh, I've seen your art in the library!" Maria exclaimed. "You're really talented! I love the portrait of Einstein you made out of duct-tape- that was probably the most creative thing I've seen, ever."
Day smiled. "Thanks Maria."
The three of them spent the rest of the class period making polite small talk. Although really, Day and Maria did most of the talking, while Alex 'hmm'ed politely when necessary and added in a few comments here and there. He had always preferred to listen than to talk- it was easier, and you learned more.
The rest of class passed by much quicker than expected, and before he knew it, the bell was ringing and school was over.
Everyone was out like a shot. Alex waved to Abhaya and James, and scowled at Tom, who grinned back like a loon. He avoided any eye contact with Maria and Day. He stopped by his locker to drop off his books, and then he was out of the building.
Alex used to ride his bike to school. He had a very nice bike, given to him by his uncle- but perhaps this was why Alex couldn't bear to touch it anymore. Too many memories. So he walked home now, and he found that he enjoyed it. It gave him time to process the day and clear his head- and really, the more time he spent away from his home, the better.
He was maneuvering his way through the outgoing rush down the front steps when someone caught him by the sleeve.
He immediately tensed, hands clenching into fists at his side.
"Hey Alex! How are you? I haven't seen you in ages!" Dima Berlioz stared up at him, beaming brightly. "A nice day we're having, huh?"
Alex relaxed. "Dima. Yeah- a pretty nice day." He allowed himself to be dragged out of the crowd of students to an empty spot near some planted trees.
"So? How are you?" Dima was smiling so widely Alex would have thought it might hurt- except, well, it was Dima. The brightest ray of sunshine he'd ever met.
"I'm good," he said, smiling back softly. "And you? How are your classes going?"
"I'm making an 86 in Algebra! All thanks to you! I can't believe it! Just a month ago I was failing."
Dima was the younger brother of a girl in Alex's grade, Kelli, who knew that Alex was pretty much a math genius. When Dima's Algebra grade had dipped below a 70, she'd hooked the two of them up, paying Alex for tutoring sessions. Alex had gotten Dima's grade back on track, and in return, Alex had gotten a heartfelt 8th year admirer. The 13 year old boy practically accosted Alex whatever chance he got, but Alex didn't mind, because Dima was nice and sincere and he got a strange glowy feeling in his chest whenever he thought about the fact that someone in the world looked up to him.
"That's great! I'm really proud. And the rest of your classes?"
"All 90s or higher."
"Nice."
"Yeah- so far being an 8th year isn't so bad!"
"I'm glad you think so," Alex said with some feeling of nostalgia. His 8th year had been one of the best of his life. He'd met James, he'd been promoted to striker on the football team, and he'd finally become a 2nd dan black belt in karate. And... both his uncle and Jack had still been alive.
He shook off his thoughts. "And theatre? How's that coming along? I hear you guys have a production coming out sometime this month."
"Yes!" Dima said, looking delighted that Alex knew. "We're doing Big Fish! Are you going to come and see it? I play one of the circus crew! The giant lifts me onto his shoulders!"
"When is it?"
"October 20, 21, and 23, and then the 27th, 28th, and 29th."
"Sure. I'd love to see it. I think any of those days works, so I'll let you know closer to the date when I'll be attending."
"Really? You'll come?" Dima practically vibrated in space. "Thank you! Alex, you're the best! Thank you!"
He reached out and grasped Alex's hand between both of his, giving it a hearty squeeze and pumping it up and down enthusiastically.
Alex had to laugh. "It's my pleasure, seriously. I love plays and-" He broke off abruptly. "Dima what's that?"
His free hand shot out to grasp Dima's wrist, and he gently pulled the boy's arm closer. Dima's sleeve cuff had ridden up to uncover- he stared- a purple bruise, stark against the boy's pale skin.
A bruise?
He pushed up the sleeve a bit more, to reveal that it was not just a bruise but a hand-shaped bruise.
Jesus.
Dima choked on a nervous laugh, quickly yanking his hand back. He pulled down his sleeve, running a hand over the fabric, smoothing it in an almost compulsive looking manner.
"What? Nothing! Just- just marker. I mean, paint. Yeah. We were painting sets in Drama. Got some on me." He laughed again, an awful, painful laugh and gave Alex what he apparently thought was a winning smile. It hurt to look at.
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Dima." He glanced around them. No one seemed to be paying them any attention, but he still stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I know a bruise when I see one. And I know what one looks like fresh. You had to have gotten that today."
"I didn't-! It's not-!" The boy's eyes flittered frantically around, searching for an escape, but Alex had planted himself solidly in front of him, and he wasn't moving. "It's paint! No one's hurting me, I'm- I'm fine, it was an accident anyway and it doesn't even matter and-"
"Dima."
Dima stared at him, mouth working soundlessly, cheeks pale. "It doesn't matter, Alex," he managed finally. "I'm fine."
"Someone hurt you Dima. That matters." Alex chewed on his lip, heart beating loudly in his chest. "Look, was it one of your parents? Someone at home?"
"What?" Dima stared at him, horrified. "My parents would never hurt me!"
That loud protest garnered some looks, and Alex pulled Dima further away from any lingering stares with a harsh glare. They needed more privacy.
"Но кто-то причиняет вам боль?" But someone is hurting you?
Dima looked relieved at the switch to Russian, but still entirely too on edge.
"Please let this go."
"I can't."
"Alex, please. It's nothing, okay? Don't- Don't push this. Please."
"Я не могу, Дима," Alex said fiercely, and then repeated in English- "I can't. You're my friend and someone is hurting you. Will you not let me help you?"
They stared at each other for a moment or two. Dima was looking overwhelmed and tearful, and he was still a little too pale to be healthy. And Alex was… angry. Angry and scared. Someone was hurting his friend and those bruises looked painful. He knew what it was like to be hurt, he knew in every way possible what it was like, and to think that someone was putting Dima through that? Dima with the bright smile and the happy laugh and the disposition so sunny he half expected flowers to sprout up where he walked?
Yeah. No way in hell was he letting this one go.
Dima must have seen something in his face, or perhaps simply sensed it from his demeanor, because after another second, he deflated. It was like watching a soufflé collapse, losing it's air and its presentation all in one, to reveal an almost inherent sadness and disappointment.
Dima muttered something and Alex leaned forward. "Прости?" I'm sorry?
"I said, it's these older boys. 12th year. They've been… pushing me around."
12th year boys!
"And how exactly have they been 'pushing you around'?"
"Well, they've, you know, actually literally pushed me… And sometimes they just grab me too hard."
He rubbed at his arm, and Alex zeroed in on the movement. Grabbed him too hard? To make bruises like that, Jesus, that was an understatement. He was quiet for a moment as he thought.
"How long has this been going on?"
"I don't know. A couple of weeks."
"Does Kelli know?"
Dima looked horrified. "Tell my sister? I couldn't!"
Alex understood his hesitancy. Letting people know you are hurting is… hard. Especially if it's someone you're close to.
"Why are they harassing you?"
Dima scoffed, but Alex noted with concern that he also hunched his shoulders in… shame? "Apparently only queers are in Drama."
Alex's breath caught in his throat. He stared. "Дима…"
He curled into himself tighter when Alex said his name. He looked like he was expecting a blow and Alex felt sick.
"Dima, I'm not going to hurt you. God."
Alex reached out and pulled the younger boy in, and carefully wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Whenever Alex was feeling like absolute garbage, this was what Tom would do for him- and it always… worked? The urge to pick up a pistol and blow his brains in always abated, and he could practically feel his tension physically ebbing out of him. It seemed to work for Dima as well, because Alex heard a small choked sound, and then Dima was practically boneless, leaning heavily against the blond, shoulders wracked in painful, heaving whimpers.
It was as if a dam had been broken, and Alex held the other boy tightly as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
This, Alex thought to himself grimly. Will not do.
When Alex got home, Alil was sitting in the kitchen reading a book. The man looked up at his entry, eyed him for a moment, and then snorted. "It takes you 45 minutes to walk home? Jesus, I can't imagine being that out of shape."
Alex rolled his eyes. "Good afternoon to you too, Alil." He went to the refrigerator and looked inside. "We're out of milk."
"I know. You used the last of it this morning."
Alex took a controlled breath and closed the refrigerator door. "You were supposed to go to the store today."
"I forgot."
"Right."
There wasn't much else to say. Because Alil Espinoza was… kind of a jerk, to be honest, but he served his purpose. After Jack had died, Alex had gone off to live with Sabina and her family. And that had been awful. Oh sure, Sabina was kind and considerate and patient and her parents had done everything in their power to make him comfortable and help him to heal. But… that had kind of made it all the more worse. Edward would gently shake him awake at three in the morning, trying to quell his nightmares. The man would hug him to his chest and murmur kind words. Liz would make breakfast for him every morning, and watch him carefully to make sure that he was eating right.
And Alex? God, Alex couldn't stand it.
Because his mother had died. And his father. And his uncle. And Jack. And it seemed like everyone he got close to left and nothing good ever happened to him, ever and it didn't make sense that he could live out a happy life with the Pleasures and be safe and content and not afraid every second because he couldn't imagine a life without fear. He couldn't. Life was fear, life would always be fear.
He would always be hurt and crippled inside, and he would always be alone, and how could anything the Pleasures do change that? In any way?
And so, after about three months with them, he'd gently broken the news that he'd like to move back to England. They'd been shocked, and Sabina had been quite hurt, but in the end, they'd understood.
He got back just a few weeks before the next school year started, and Alex had had one of his final talks with Tulip Jones.
The deal was this: Alex would accept a legal guardian chosen by MI6. Alex would let him or her stay in his house, and the two of them would coexist as best they could. In return, MI6 would leave him alone. Alex hadn't really expected anything less, because he'd once joined an international terrorist organization and tried to murder the deputy head of MI6. So. The desire for some surveillance was… understandable. Especially in his post-Cairo mind set which was really perhaps not the most stable.
The first five months, his guardian had been a woman named Ava Scott.
She was alright, really. A little too pushy, a little too concerned. But she never woke him from his nightmares, and she never made him breakfast, and Alex supposed it was what he wanted.
But Alex was also dealing with crippling emotional trauma and horrific PTSD and he would be the first to admit that he wasn't the best housemate.
Ava Scott quit after those first five months. Next was Jerred Paul, then Monika Borisov, and then Cornelio Weick, and then, finally Alil Espinoza.
He'd gone through a good number of guardians, and yeah, it was pretty much all his fault.
He'd done a lot of things in his past. A lot of horrible, awful, violent things, most of which were highly classified. This meant that his guardians weren't allowed to know what he'd been through- what he'd done- so they were left living with, what seemed to be, some random, passive aggressive kid with attitude problems and an almost obsessive need for confrontation.
He went out of his way to cause trouble and he pushed and poked and prodded his guardians until they broke. He didn't know why he did. He couldn't help himself.
But after Wolff had exploded on him and stormed out the door at 10 o'clock at night, Alex had received a call from Jones, who was finally through with the way he was acting. He needed to stop because they'd had an agreement, and Alex was doing basically the exact opposite of trying to co-exist.
So.
He was… trying. With Alil. He'd leave Alil alone, and Alil would leave him alone- that's the way it would work.
Still, it would have been nice if Alil picked up the slack, just a little.
"Are you going to go to the store tomorrow?" He asked.
"Of course I am- I just forgot today was all. Christ, don't be such a pushover, I'm trying to read."
"Right," he repeated, and backed out of the room.
It wasn't so great, having no milk, and having to eat dry cereal for dinner. But he had homework, and going to the store himself would mean letting Alil win, so he set his jaw, poured himself a bowl of Cheerios and went upstairs to get things done.
He sat at his desk and stared at a blank sheet of notebook paper for 10 whole minutes before he finally closed his binder and leaned back in his seat. He couldn't concentrate. His mind just kept wandering back to Dima Berlioz and the dark bruise splashed across his skin.
According to Dima, there were three boys, who liked to hunt him down just before third block. They were all on the school's wrestling team. He hadn't even known that the school had a wrestling team. But almost every other day they'd corner Dima somewhere and laugh and joke and tease him for being in the Drama program. Apparently it wasn't a club for boys- at least not straight boys- and they all thought that was rather funny.
Alex didn't quite understand. Drama was fun first of all, and a lot of work, secondly. The Drama kids had practice almost every single day, and they pumped out quality work. They all seemed to have such a tight friendship, and they appeared just like one big family- perhaps not getting along all the time, but always having each other's backs.
What about that was funny? What about that meant that a kid needed to be bullied?
They all wrestle, huh? Alex mused, and at that very moment he knew what he was going to do.
A/N: So this is out a little later than I wanted it to be, but here's chapter two! I have no idea how British schooling systems work, so if y'all have any corrections, hit me up! Also I've only started Russian very recently so it's basically all Google Translate lol.
On another note, the reviews I got have been so positive! I love everyone who reviewed omg, I got back from like a month with no internet access and when I read all the reviews I cried.