Chapter 5

The car squealed onto James's long circle driveway as Kendall stepped on the brakes and left the car idling. James gathered his backpack and opened the door to let himself out. "Thanks for the ride, Kendall." He said, without meeting his friend's eyes. The whole ride back had been awkward. Neither of them spoke, which was highly unusual (James and Kendall always had things to talk about) and probably due to the fact that James could feel Kendall side-glancing him the whole time.

Just as he was about to pick his butt off the seat, Kendall reached over and put his hand on his shoulder. "James." James looked back, reluctantly meeting Kendall's eyes. The blonde's eyes always seemed to glow bright green, glaring a hole into him like a laser beam, whenever he looked at him as seriously as he did now.

"Yeah?"

"I know you said you're good and all, but you went through a tough thing. It's okay to be… not good." He finished. James should've expected this- why else would Kendall have told Logan to bring Carlos to school and home today, instead of both of them riding in one person's car like they usually did?

"I know, Kendall. I've just been tired. I'm fine, though." James repeated, meeting Kendall's eyes and trying not to look away.

Kendall stared at him a couple more seconds. James had no idea what was going through his head at that moment. He was afraid Kendall's eyes would burn a hole through him.

"I'm always here if you need me. Got it?" He finally said, giving James a friendly smile. His eyes were no longer burning laser beams, but a gentle wave in the ocean, watching him with concern and care.

James nodded and forced a smile back. He blinked and looked away. "Thanks." He exited the car and waved as Kendall drove away.

He took a deep breath as he walked towards their front porch. Was he okay? His jaw and his face hurt, his pride hurt, his ego hurt.

And he didn't know why, but whenever he was alone (which was a lot), he felt that same loneliness and self-hatred he felt when he was at the hospital that day; the feeling that he was nothing, he was just an ugly guy, he was just James.

Nothing else. He was nothing else.

The feeling was there, following him around like a shadow, since he left the hospital, but it was never as strong as it was now, the thoughts of his worried friends and his judgmental classmates fresh in his mind, scenes replaying like a terrible movie.

He walked to his room and lay down on his bed, dropping his heavy backpack down beside him. His parents weren't home as usual. His mom worked as a cosmetics manager at a popular cosmetics company and was working her way up to becoming a regional manager. That meant overtime hours nearly every day and working on the weekends. His father worked in a financial business and was gone nearly that same amount of time.

James tried to think of something, anything else. And he remembered what had made that feeling go away at the hospital.

Of course, his friends and family had come. But nothing had filled that void like the fluid coursing through his veins.

The pain meds the doctor prescribed him was supposed to last him only 3 days. But over the weekend, James had only taken 1 a day, so he had a couple extras left that his mom had stored in the bathroom medicine cabinet.

It wasn't the same as the morphine, but it was similar. And since James hadn't felt any different with one pill, he wanted to try two at a time. Maybe that would give him the boost he needed, just to get through this Monday. It was just one extra pill, and wasn't the point of the pills to make him feel better in the first place?

He found the pills and popped two in his mouth, swishing it down with some water from the sink. He didn't feel anything at first, so he closed the cabinet and walked back to his room. He took out his math homework.

After a couple of problems, James noticed the slight pain he'd felt in his face was gone. He smiled, feeling a lot happier for some reason. Everything was okay- everything was good. Actually good, and not just pretend good. The feeling hit him so suddenly and so completely, like a wave washing over him.

Like the morphine washing over him at the hospital.

James shoved his math homework aside and stood up. He did a jig in his room and pretended he was singing "Photograph" by Nickelback in front of a packed arena. When he was done, he plopped back onto his bed and let out a contented sigh.

He hadn't felt this good in weeks. Not since his hospital stay, at least. Maybe not even before that.

He didn't think about his looks, or his popularity, or his friends, or his parents, at all. Or at least when he did, it didn't make him feel ashamed, sad, disgusted, lonely…

He was just indifferent. How could he care about anything when everything was so good?

He wished he could feel like this all day. But it only lasted a couple of hours, enough for him to sit down and finish his schoolwork and play some video games and get ready for bed.

But it ended as quickly as it had happened, leaving James alone on the cold, sandy, dark sand. Lonely, sad, ugly, all alone.

He curled up under his blanket and cried until he fell asleep.

Tuesday may as well be worse than Monday.

At least on Monday, James hadn't known what to expect. Things were new. He had hope.

But when he opened his eyes on Tuesday, he knew what was going to happen. He was going to go downstairs to an empty kitchen, eat some stale bread, hop on Kendall's car to be interrogated again, get to school, meet everyone's probing stares and judgmental whispers, and come home to the same empty house.

There was nothing to look forward to.

He groaned and smashed the snooze button on his alarm clock, turning over and burrowing under the covers. He just wanted to go to sleep and just stay in that blissful, dreamless state forever…

Until he thought of how good he'd felt yesterday. His eyes shot open, and his heart beat at the anticipation of feeling that good again.

Before he could even process what he was doing, he shot up out of bed and his feet brought him to the bathroom. He opened the cabinet and felt the now-familiar sound of the rattle of pills in an amber bottle. He dumped two into his hand and downed it with a gulp of water like he had last night.

By the time he finished breakfast and headed out the door, James was surfing the waves of happiness again. He practically skipped to Kendall's car, greeting him with a cheerful "good morning!" that almost rivaled Carlos's energy.

Kendall waved back, only hesitating for a moment at James's sudden change in mood. "Hey James! Feeling better?" He asked. James nodded, giving him a genuine smile this time.

"Yeah. I think all I needed was a good night's rest. See? Nothing to worry about." He assured Kendall, patting him on the shoulder. Kendall looked a bit reluctant at first to buy the story, but seeing James happy again seemed to satisfy the blonde, and he leaned back and started driving towards school

On the way, they belted radio songs at the top of their lungs and laughed at stupid jokes the whole walk to the school building after parking. James had almost forgotten how it felt to just talk and laugh with his best friend and not have to worry about anything. It had really been too long.

He almost didn't notice the stares today, almost didn't hear the mumbles. Almost. He still felt them burning into the back of his head, into his ears, on his face and body, but it burned a bit less today. It was more like a slight sting than a burn this time.

Everything was fine and great until lunch time. James wasn't feeling like he was standing on clouds anymore, and he remembered only too well the crash that happened after the clouds and waves.

And to top it all off, lunch time was when Ozzy Clark somehow found James. Alone.

Ozzy was a year or two older than them but was also a junior. He'd failed junior year at least twice, James heard. Ozzy was one of the rudest, roughest, meanest bullies in their school. He loved preying on younger and smaller kids, and even preyed on older and bigger kids (though James doubted anyone was really bigger than Ozzy). He spit out insults like he was reading out of an encyclopedia (even though James doubted he had ever even read a book) and was so big and buff his punch could knock a pro-wrestler out.

James was walking down the hall from his locker, about to turn into the hall that would lead him into the cafeteria. Ozzy was standing there and looked up at the sound of James approaching.

Ozzy rarely ever messed with James, because James had always been confident and had his looks. Ozzy couldn't say anything about how he looked because, well, he was great-looking. And insulting James for his smarts or personality didn't really get to him. And James was also 6 feet 2.

But now, James wasn't oh so perfect-looking anymore. He didn't feel an inch over 5 feet with Ozzy looming over him.

"Diamond, how are you?" He grinned, his teeth stained yellow and crooked. "Did you fall and break your face, like Humpty Dumpty?" He asked, his tone belittling and mocking.

James gasped, his hands immediately reaching up towards his right cheek. Ozzy laughed.

"You ever watch the Lion King, pretty boy?" He spit out the nickname, mocking James with it. You aren't so pretty anymore, huh?

James crossed his arms and glared at Ozzy. "Yeah." Ozzy wasn't going to get to him. He didn't have to listen to him.

"You… look just like one of the characters. Hm, what was his name again?" Ozzy snapped his fingers like he'd suddenly figured out how to save the world. "Right! Scar." James froze, heat rushing to his face. Scar was the ugliest character in that movie, ever.

He felt his resolve wavering as Ozzy laughed like he'd made the funniest joke in the world. James wanted to crawl back in his bed and just lay there forever, away from the world and its cruelty. He wanted to rewind, back to when he didn't get hurt and back to when he'd never felt abandoned in his empty house and not good enough for anyone.

He didn't think he could go back far enough if that was the case.

He was thinking about what he could say back (though nothing would erase the hurt he already felt, the burning that replaced the stinging), when someone else beat him to it. "Hey! He's way prettier than that!" Ozzy and James turned to look at the third person.

James let out a breath. It was Carlos. James tried to push down the despair growing in his stomach. This was going to end so badly. Carlos wasn't exactly the toughest person out there to stand up for James and scare Ozzy away. Ozzy wasn't exactly going to be intimidated by him.

The boy patted the helmet that was forever on his head. Ozzy laughed, stepping away from James and towards Carlos. "Oh, is he now?" Carlos nodded firmly, pulling the straps on his helmet tighter when it threatened to slip off his head. Ozzy laughed.

With one beefy hand, the bully shoved Carlos against the row of lockers lining the white wall. Carlos let out a small yelp. "And what do you know about anything, you stupid helmet head?" Ozzy growled, pinning Carlos in place with his hand. Carlos squirmed but could not budge from Ozzy's iron grip.

"Let me go!" Carlos yelped, continuing to squirm. James moved to help but stopped cold at Ozzy's icy glare.

"Tell me, you little brat." Ozzy turned back to face Carlos. "What would a retard like you know about anything?" Carlos's face fell, looking like he'd just gotten punched. James knew Carlos hated that word, due to the slew of learning disabilities he had grown up with and was constantly made fun of for. The smaller boy stopped struggling, blinking and averting his gaze away from Ozzy, all the fight sucked out of him with one word.

Ozzy smirked, seeing he'd accomplished his daily mission to make someone cry. For a second, James was relieved it hadn't been him, but then felt terrible for thinking it. It should've been him. A few more minutes with Ozzy, and it would have been him.

"What's wrong? You know I'm right." He sneered. James was thinking about how he could somehow stop this, how he could repay Carlos for trying to stick up for him, but he was interrupted yet again.

A blur flew into Ozzy and pushed him down to the ground. James had hardly processed what was happening when he heard his name being called. "James! Pin him down, right arm!" It was Kendall, here to save the day like he always.

In a flash, the two boys had Ozzy on the ground. On the floor, Ozzy didn't look to tough, so big. Kendall leaned down until he was inches from the bully's face. "You ever touch him again, next time it'll be the entire varsity team." He threatened, breathing hard. Today, the lasers were burning through someone else.

Ozzy rolled his eyes, but James could tell he was spooked. "Geez, Knight, calm down. Just having a man-to-man talk with my boys here." He said, as if they were best friends just having a conversation. "No need to get so worked up."

Kendall let go of Ozzy's shirt, standing up. "Leave my friends alone." He emphasized. Ozzy picked himself up and walked away, muttering something about "crazy hockey nuts." James let out a breath, relieved the larger boy's presence had been vanquished.

"You guys good?" Kendall asked, picking his backpack up from where he'd thrown it down in his rush to take down Ozzy. James nodded and turned to Carlos, who had really taken the brunt of Ozzy's rampage.

The smaller boy had his head down, sniffling and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Kendall rushed over to him and wrapped a protective arm around him. "Hey, buddy, what's the matter? Did he hurt you?"

Carlos shook his head. "N-no…" He trailed off, trying to curb the tears coming down his face. "He called me a mean name…" He added sadly. Carlos didn't get sad often, but when he was, it felt worse than watching Jack die in Titanic. James looked down. If he had just ignored Ozzy and told him where to stick it, none of this would have happened.

James could have walked away. But he had been afraid of what Ozzy would say.

He had been afraid he would be right. So he stayed.

Kendall ruffled his hair affectionately. "I'm sorry, Carlos. But you know it's not true, right? You're awesome, and Ozzy is just a big fat turd." Carlos giggled at the silly word Kendall and his younger sister Katie had made up. Even James smiled.

"Thanks, Kendall." The smile was back on the boy's face, and he quickly turned to point at James. "But he said James was ugly!" He blurted. James avoided their gaze, feeling embarrassed and hurt.

"James, don't worry about Ozzy. You're still "The Face", remember? The stitches will heal up and you'll be taking your metal thingy out soon." Kendall reminded him, giving a small punch on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll be back to normal again in no time." James nodded and gave him a smile, but unlike Carlos, he wasn't able to be convinced so easily.

But he was afraid if he said anything more, his friends would eventually agree with him that he was ugly and that he wasn't the old him. That he wasn't good enough. And that would be 100 times worse than Ozzy's words. So he kept silent and pretended he was fine. He thanked Kendall and bragged about how good his tackle was on Ozzy as the three walked to lunch together to meet Logan.

That's what the old James would do, and James had gotten pretty good at pretending lately.

A/N- James has gone down a road that may be hard to get off of...

On a happier note, SO EXCITED for the new BTR stuff that's going to come out soon. It still feels surreal that they're ACTUALLY BACK! WOOOOOO!

Hope you guys are having a great day :)

- AS