9. Faggot Alert
9
Faggot Alert
For the rest of the week, Ben and I were the talk of the school gossip chain. I was used to it, and Ben didn’t seem to care. He ignored the stupid giggles and hushed whispers, proudly walking with me in the hallways hand-in-hand. He kissed me at my locker and after class and never hesitated to circle the back of my chair with his arm during lunch.
Whether because Ben was nicer than I was or more of a physical threat, he didn’t receive the treatment I had feared. Girls fawned over him more than ever—which annoyed me to no end—and Thompson and his posse kept their insults at a minimum when Ben was present.
Of course, when I was alone, I was still fair game.
Thankfully, Ben had allies on his swim team. Ronnie, Julian, and a few others openly defended him against the individuals who made a fuss, and the majority of the others simply didn’t care.
I was glad. Even if it meant that I shouldered most of the rude comments, I would remain the target. Ben was too good for this place, and I refused to allow anyone to hurt him if I could help it.
Every day after school, Ben walked me to the parking lot to drop me at my truck before going to practice. This had become our routine ever since the play ended.
Our elbows brushed as we strode down the gym hallway. We passed the pool room and voices echoed from within. I could see a few stray basketball players through the open gym doors, standing on the court with the coach as they awaited the rest of the team.
The majority of the people in the hall were athletes on their way to their respective practices, but a couple stragglers like me scurried along to the parking lot.
When we rounded the corner and I caught sight of the bathroom where Eric had cornered me two months ago, I subconsciously took Ben’s hand. He didn’t comment, but he squeezed my hand in silent support. Like he knew exactly why I’d sought comfort. Sometimes, I felt like he knew my thoughts better than I did.
Unfortunately, the bathroom wasn’t the only sight to send ice trickling through my veins. Ben stiffened beside me in the same moment that my heart jumped into my throat as we watched a group of four guys making a ruckus outside the wrestlers’ practice room. Two guys built like boulders guffawed as a shorter, rat-faced blond made an obscene, sexual motion with his body. And, lounging against the wall, watching with a smirk, stood Eric Boyt.
His dark hair was recently trimmed, and his biceps rippled as he scrubbed the crew cut. Broad and thick, it was no wonder why he was one of our school’s top wrestlers. I shivered as I remembered the feel of his massive body trapping me against the hard wall.
“Just keep walking.” Ben rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. “Don’t stop.”
I summoned all my sub-par acting skills and set my expression into one of neutral boredom. I’d use the apathy as a shield to protect me from what was most likely going to be a rather unpleasant encounter. Even if we ignored them, there was little chance they’d let us by unscathed. I didn’t care what they said or did to me, but Eric’s hatred for Ben scared me.
He had threatened Ben, and, instead of submitting to him, I’d punched him in the balls. Not exactly the right course of action when I wanted to protect Ben. Not that Ben needed protecting; he was pretty badass without my help.
The closer we got, the more rigid Ben became, and it was my turn to squish his fingers in comfort and assurance. His blue eyes frosted, alert and wary, and he set his jaw as Eric rumbled something to his friends. It sounded suspiciously like, “I bet she was asking for it,” and my stomach soured.
One of the boulders spotted us first, and he nudged his doppelganger. Were they brothers? They didn’t exactly look alike, but their matching complexion and body type seemed too coincidental.
“Faggot alert,” Ratatouille snickered, and Thing One and Two crossed their bulging arms over their chests in a show of intimidation.
“Wow, real original.” I feigned amazement as Ben openly glared. “Hope you didn’t spend too much time coming up with that. I know how hard it is for you to think, and I would hate for all that effort to go to waste.”
Ratatouille screwed up his face in confusion at my words, confirming my point, and a small dry laugh escaped my throat. I held my head high and my shoulders straight as I portrayed false bravado, and Ben shot me a chiding look. He quickened his pace as we made to pass the group, my fingers aching from our desperate grip.
Of course, it wasn’t going to be that simple. Thing One and Two blocked our escape as Ratatouille giggled like a kid in the candy store, eyes gleaming. Eric didn’t move a muscle. He observed the confrontation, his dark stare coating my skin like oil.
Ben guided me behind him, taking a protective stance in front, and I huffed in annoyance as I shoved him out of the way. I stepped up beside him and planted my feet in a wide stance with arms crossed over my chest. If a fight erupted, I would be throwing punches alongside him. I wouldn’t let him battle alone.
Reading my thoughts, he sighed quietly before facing off with Thing One and Two. “I suggest you get out of the way,” he said, voice carefully controlled.
Thing One grinned maliciously. “How about you keep your mouth shut and stop with the suggestions.”
Ben shrugged and cocked his head to the side, slipping his hands into his pockets in a casual stance like there was nowhere he’d rather be than here. “The suggestion was for your benefit, not mine. Now get out of our way before I make you.”
Thing One scowled at the threat while Ratatouille sniggered in delight. Thing Two seemed slightly confused over why we were having this altercation in the first place, but he was going along with it either way.
“I’m going to tell you one more time”—Ben’s voice dropped to subzero temperatures—“get the fuck out of our way.”
His use of the curse threw out any doubt I had over his current mood. He’d flipped his switch. He was no longer my Ben, my cute, occasionally infuriating boyfriend. No, he was now Void Ben, cold, detached, and maybe a little violent.
We were so getting expelled.
It was technically four to two, even if Eric hadn’t made himself a threat quite yet. Ratatouille was bigger than me, but I could probably take him. But that left Ben to face off with Thing One and Two.
Not good odds, even for him.
Unconcerned at being outnumbered, Ben stepped nose-to-nose with Thing One. The bastard swallowed thickly in trepidation at the fury in my boyfriend’s eyes. I didn’t blame him. Ben could be terrifying when he wanted to be.
“Last chance. Move.”
“Boys, boys.” Eric pushed off the wall.
He smirked as he approached, and my stomach heaved when he winked. From the growl rumbling in Ben’s chest, he’d seen it too. His body coiled.
I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his wrist to stop him from charging.
Tracking my movement, Eric’s eyes glazed over coolly. “Take a breath, Blondie. All you have to do is say please.”
“Beg me.” The memory filtered through my mind, and I ground my teeth. He was baiting us—baiting me. And I knew it. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to punch that smug expression off his face.
“Fuck you, Boyt. Call off your dogs.” Revulsion dripped from every word as Ben addressed my assailant.
Eric’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands, pretty boy.”
An evil smile slid over Ben’s face as his posture relaxed. “Keep calling me pretty, and I’m gonna start thinking you like me.”
I choked, and Eric bared his teeth. Cool as a cucumber, Ben sent Eric a slow wink. I almost peed my pants from a confusing mix of amusement and fright.
Eric shoved Thing One and Thing Two out of his way, and I reacted on instinct. I shielded Ben with my body, my heart hammering inside my chest like a bass drum. Ben grabbed my arms roughly to yank me out of the way, but I stood my ground, refusing to be unseated.
The tension stretched as Eric stopped inches from us and glared first at me, then at Ben.
We waited, no one wanting to make the first move. Eric’s backup watched him for direction, and Ben shook behind me as he held himself back from laying into Eric with everything he had. He hated him as much as I did, maybe more.
Glowering at Ben, Eric broke the silent standoff. “You sure have a big mouth, Blondie. Almost as big as your little twink boyfriend.” He sent me a gleeful smirk, and my stomach filled with lead. “I have a feeling both are gonna get you into a lot of trouble one day.”
Righteous anger boiled inside me at the threat until it burned away my fear. I’d told him to leave Ben out of this! He could play with me all he wanted, but I would not let him go after what was mine.
“Threaten him again, and I’ll carve your fucking heart out,” I seethed, ignoring Ben’s warning pinch on my biceps, and Eric’s eyes flared.
Thing Two finally grew a pair and cleared his throat. “Guys, we’re gonna be late for practice again, and Coach will have our asses. Let’s just go.”
Eric and Ben glared at each other for another moment, and I grew impatient. “If you two are done comparing dick sizes, can we go?” I gave Eric a sugar-sweet smile. “Hate to break it to you, honey, but he’s bigger than you are.”
Another sigh from Ben. Eric swelled. The air charged.
“Get to practice!” Eric barked at his three stooges, and I jumped at his sudden volume. His backup immediately obeyed, heading toward the door to the wrestling room.
As Eric backed away, my body slumped against Ben in relief. Ben prodded my back to get me moving. I forced my wobbly legs to step around Boyt.
Was that it? Seriously?
The moment his friends were out of earshot, Eric dropped his voice to a whisper. “He sure looks good on his knees, doesn’t he, Blondie?”
Ben froze, his face emptying of every emotion that made him human. I dug my fingers into his forearm to stop the inevitable. I wasn’t strong enough.
“Ben, no!”
With a roar of fury, Ben charged Eric and tackled him to the floor like a professional linebacker. They grappled on the tile, spitting curses at each other. Ben rolled on top of Eric and smashed his fist into his face once, twice. Bellowing, Eric used his weight to throw him off and punched him square in the jaw.
“Oh my God. Stop! Stop it!” I shrieked.
Eric’s entourage rushed to his aid, and I shoved aside my fear as I leapt in front of the wrestling duo. Fierce protectiveness flooded me, and the moment Ratatouille was within reach, I threw a wild punch. I wasn’t a fighter, never had been, but somehow my fist connected with his face. His nose crunched, and blood poured from his nostrils.
Agony pulsed through my fist, and I yelped along with Ratatouille as he dropped to his knees, cupping his face.
“Holy shit, that hurts so much!” I whimpered.
I didn’t have time to nurse my possibly-busted knuckles because Thing One was fisting the back of Ben’s shirt to haul him off of Boyt. My vision bled red as they ganged up on him. With a crazy war cry, I jumped on Thing One, tipping him off balance and freeing Ben.
Falling to the floor, I punched and kicked like a wild cat, but he easily overpowered me with his weight. My vision darkened and stars danced before my eyes when he caught me in the side of the head with his meaty fist.
“Not so tough without your cocksucker boyfriend.” He decked me again, and sharp pain crackled through my jaw and rattled my teeth.
My cheek swelled, and I cringed as he drew his fist back to break my face. He never got the chance. Dirty-blond hair filled my vision as someone joined the fray, tackling Thing One and liberating me. I gasped in oxygen, my body protesting as I staggered to my feet.
Ben and Eric were wailing on each other, and Thing One was busy with my savior whom I quickly recognized as Ronnie. Ratatouille was still out for the count, struggling to staunch the flow of blood from his nose. Thing Two stood indecisive as he watched the scuffles.
Copper saliva flooded my mouth, and I wiped at my lips as I stumbled to block his path should he decide to go after Ben.
His light eyes narrowed and his fists tightened. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
I flipped him the bird. “Bite me, asshole.”
Like he’d been sent from heaven, Ben’s coach, Coach Kane, appeared through the crowd of athletes that had surrounded us, face red and furious. “What in Sam Hill is going on here?”
Thing One paused his fist mid-air, straddling a bloodied Ronnie. Ben didn’t hesitate as he landed one last punch to Eric’s face. Two more adults fought their way through the mass of athletes. The basketball coach made it through first, followed by the wrestling coach, Coach McKinney.
Coach Kane dragged Ben off of Eric by his collar, and my chest constricted. Ben’s hair was in disarray, his clothes stained, and red streaked across his face. He favored his side as his coach growled something I couldn’t hear.
“Hank, get Peter to the bathroom and clean him up,” Coach McKinney barked, and Thing Two nodded as he lifted Ratatouille from the floor. “Shawn, Eric, get your butts in my office, now.”
Rolling off Ronnie, Thing One rose to his feet, sparing me a vicious glare. “Yes, Coach.”
“Clear the hall!” the basketball coach commanded, ushering away the onlookers. “Anyone left receives detention.”
Ronnie retrieved his cracked glasses and waved off my stammered apologies as he folded them and slipped them into his pocket. His eye puffed, already swelling shut, and guilt swamped me as he wiped at his bleeding nose.
“Anyone wanna explain this?” Coach Kane growled, but no one spoke.
Eric unfurled from the ground, one eye already turning black and blue. It looked like Ben might have broken his nose again. But he was smirking at me, like things had gone perfectly to plan.
“Ask that psycho!” he growled, pointing at Ben. “He attacked me for no damn reason.”
“You fucking asshole!” Ben lunged, but Ronnie and their coach managed to grab him and haul him back.
“Ben, for Pete’s sake, calm down before you force my hand!” Coach Kane captured his jaw and forced their eyes to meet. “You could all face suspension for this. Don’t push it.”
“Come on now, Kane. Let’s not be hasty. There’s no real harm done.” McKinney grasped Boyt’s shoulder.
Ben’s coach set his jaw with an audible clack. “Your boy looks like he broke his nose, McKinney. We can’t just—”
“They’re just boys being boys. We’re in the middle of the season. You handle yours, and I’ll handle mine. There’s no reason to make a mountain out of a molehill.”
“Yeah, it was just a misunderstanding.” Eric shrugged and spit bloody saliva onto the floor.
Coach McKinney scowled and pointed to the wrestling room. “In my office now.”
Rolling his eyes, Boyt scoffed. “Whatever.” He glanced my way, licking the blood from his lip, and bile teased my throat. “See you around, Brigs.”
Expecting the reaction, Ronnie tightened his grip on Ben as my boyfriend surged forward. “Ben, think. This will just come back on both of you.”
As he blinked away his blind rage, Ben glanced my way, his beautiful face swollen and bleeding. “Silas?”
“Keep your boys away from my team, McKinney.” Coach Kane finally surrendered as he yanked Ben away from me. “As for you two, get to my office. I have half a mind to give you both detention for the rest of the semester.”
“Coach, I need to walk Silas to his truck.” Ben’s voice cracked as he scrutinized my injuries. “Coach, please.”
“You’re gonna go to my office now. I’ll make sure he makes it.”
Their stalemate lasted a good minute, but finally, Ben nodded. Ronnie hooked a finger in Ben’s belt loop and tugged. Ben stumbled back.
His pained eyes met mine. “I’ll come over as soon as I can, okay? Go straight home.”
Normally, the bossiness would have annoyed me, but I was too shaken to do anything but nod.
His coach pointed in the direction of the pool room as he approached me, and Ben allowed Ronnie to lead him away. I tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace as I turned and followed his coach.
“You wanna tell me why that boy was so adamant about walking you to your truck?” Coach Kane asked as we left the building.
“It was nothing,” I denied. “Just a misunderstanding.”
“Mhm.” His doubtful grunt set me on edge, and I hurriedly unlocked Mabel to escape his suddenly soft gaze. “I’m not the enemy, Brigs. Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
Like the coward I was, I shook my head resolutely. “No, sir. But please, don’t suspend Ben. It wasn’t his fault.”
“I can’t exactly do nothing about this. Those boys are on my team, and there are expectations—”
“It was my fault,” I blurted, panicking. “I started it. Ben was just defending himself.”
Coach Kane held up his palm, and I quieted. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know the kind of boy Eric Boyt is. So, I’m going to ask you one more time. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
His gaze x-rayed through me, and I swore he could read the truth in my head. But once again, I shook my head, looking away.
He sighed, disappointed. “Get yourself home, and put an ice pack on your face.”
“Yes, sir,” I mumbled as I climbed into my truck.
My phone chimed in my pocket, but I ignored it. I shoved my keys in the ignition with trembling fingers and carefully pulled out of the parking lot as Coach Kane returned to the school building.
I barely managed to make it home before my panic attack hit.