Hearts at Odds (BxB)

Chapter 3: The First Crack

After a quick break, and some deodorant in the janitors closet came history class. Real interesting. Instead of civil wars and old men quarrelling, Alex was fighting a war of his own, a war in his mind. He didn't know If he was a foot soldier or a commander. Dacre. That was all he knew, in the far left side of the classroom, spaced out of the window overlooking the courtyard of Woodcrest High. "One of the happiest in the state". Yeah, right. He kept replaying the moments in his head like a broken CD player, probably playing Radiohead. Reliving the moments on Dacre Rivers' chest made him smile, something very unlike Alex. Oh, and when he sat next to him in music class, surely that must have meant something, right?Then came the pit in his stomach, Quentin Vance. Just like this morning, he was flooded by memories of that forsaken day in freshman year, when stars fell, then collided in minutes. "Not this time". He wouldn't make a fool out of himself again, because a boy was nice to him once. He wouldn't survive it this time. He dried the single tear running down his cheek with the collar of his shirt, just as the bell rang. Lunch. Fuck

After swearing to himself that he'd never miss breakfast again, he warily made his way down to the cafeteria, being adept in avoiding Quentin and his goons. He put on his favourite playlist and got in line. He never looked up from his feet, not even for a moment, when the person in front of him stepped, so did he. And again, he wouldn't dare look up. He awkwardly told the lunch lady what he wanted to eat, who, in return loudly told him to speak up. The first time he looked up was to find an empty table. He felt like everyone was constantly looking at him, even though deep down he knew that most people were just going on about their day. He spotted an empty table in the middle of the cafeteria although there was one with some of the music kids from class, but they seemed to be getting along, so he didn't want to be a bother. Alex Beckett had no real friends at school since freshman year. Most people ridiculed him because of the Quentin thing, and those who stayed, he pushed away. After some time, he found comfort in the solace, in not needing to answer to anyone, or having expectations for friends. At least, that's what he thought most nights at 1 AM when he got tired of rolling around in bed.

The food was...healthy  for sure. Steamed broccoli and bland chicken breast. He only toyed around with it though, scarcely taking a few bites. Not because a lack of appetite, rather because his stomach was in knots. A few tables behind him, sat Quentin and his loyalists; the student council. They were laughing and constantly smacking the table. They're talking about me. Alex was just about to get up when someone sat down in front of him. It was Dacre. Why? Why is he here? Suddenly, the clattering of forks and the echoing laughter was drowned out. It was just them two."What's up man?" Dacre pushed a stray strand of coal black hair away from his forehead. "Just...eating, I guess?" Alex kept his eyes fixed on his broccoli, and had to put the fork down as his hands began trembling. "So... what's the deal with this school anyway? Surely you gotta know, right? You been here since freshman year?" Fuck. Alex built up all his courage to lift his head from his plate to answer Dacre, but as soon as he looked in his eyes, his words escaped him. "I mean someone who practically breaks down a door from the inside, and lands on the new kid, surely gotta know something interesting, no?"  There it was again, the smile and the gum. "It's not that interesting... the food is... healthy though" he let out an awkward chuckle. Jesus Christ. "The food is healthy"? That's my idea of a joke? Dacre seemed to appreciate the joke as he too, chuckled in response. "Hold on, I never got your name ." "My name?" Shit, what's my name? "It's Alex Beckett, and yours is-" "Dacre freakin' Rivers, there he is!" It was Quentin.

Quentin put his hands on Dacre's shoulders from behind, as if they'd been friends for years. "The legend himself at our school. Did you catch my speech at the opening ceremony?"  Quentin was as arrogant as ever. Cocky asshole. "Yeah man, I was there. Do I know you though?" Dacre seemed taken aback from Quentin's indirectness. "Yeah man, I'm Quentin Vance, you know the son of the principal, Mr.Vance" He winked. Ew. "What are you doing sitting with this loser anyway? Come, we got an empty chair at our table"  With his right hand on Dacre's shoulder he began walking toward their table. Dacre stayed seated. "What loser?"  He had a stern expression, which caused Quentin to stop dead in his tracks. For the first time in 3 years, Alex thought, Quentin Vance had finally met his match. "Come on dude, ditch that fag and sit with us. I gotta tell you all about the football team" By this point, Alex was about to implode on himself from the nerves. He was proud of himself that he hadn't fainted by this point. "Nah man. I'm fine right here" Alex couldn't believe what he was hearing, his legs were twitching and his heart rate was in what felt like the thousands. Quentin shook his head, smiling incredulously, muttered a "what the fuck" and walked back to his chair, whispering to his companions. Alex could hardly believe what had just happened. He couldn't see it, because his gaze now switched from the broccoli was on the pale chicken breast, but the entire cafeteria was whispering and pointing. Whether they were pointing at Quentin or at Alex and the freakishly attractive new kid, who knows? "The fuck is his deal?" He just shook his head, spat out his gum, and took a bit of the food. He seemed to somewhat even enjoy it. Meanwhile, Alex felt a volcano brewing in his stomach, lava and magma escaping out of his windpipe, he blurted out a "Thank you". Dacre stopped chewing, grinned and joked "Ahh, it can speak." Alex, once again looked up from his plate. "Yeah, it speaks" God, he was so intimidating, but... not in a bad way. His deep blue eyes against his pale skin and striking features made Alex's heart skip a few beats. "I don't get it. Why did he call you a fag?" And that was all it took. He couldn't even blurt out an "I don't know". He pushed his chair back and stormed out the cafeteria, eyes damp from tears. Quentin's erratic laughter echoed through the halls as he ran.

The remainder of the day was a blur. Alex spent Biology and Calculus in a sweater pulled up all the way to his neck, covering basically everything. He just wanted to hide from the world, from Quentin, from Dacre from every living fucking person on Earth. As the last bell rang, he put in his earphones, threw on his hood, and with his gaze steady on the ground before him, he made his way out of Woodcrest. He didn't even get on the bus, he wanted to be alone, to be unseen, to not exist. He could never face Dacre again. He probably already knows, Quentin must've told him by now. God, I'm a fucking moron. He took the long path home, so he wouldn't look like he'd cried his eyes out, which he did. Even after a 20 minute walk, he sat at the corner of the street to calm himself down, and collect his thoughts before he could face his father. It was good, dad. Yeah, everything went fine, dad. He looked up at that gleaming September sky, and no more tears came. He calmed his breathing, walked, and opened the red door. "Son?" a voice called. "Hey dad. Everything went good."