When the Devil Cries [Revision]

Chapter 1: Bathrooms are Interesting Places

I woke up that morning to the glaring red numbers and obnoxious beeping of my alarm clock. It read 6:30 am, I groaned. It's time to get up and off to my own living hell known to most as West Lake fucking High School.

Hitting my alarm clock, with a little more force than necessary, I got out of bed and dragged myself over to my closet. There staring at me almost mocking me is the uniform for that God forsaken place. I've been dreading this day all summer long.

I put on the black slacks, white dress shirt, horribly bright red tie, and black blazer with the schools crest on breast pocket. Taking a deep breath I grabbed my iPod, messenger bag, and breakfast bar before heading out the door to my hell.

The walk to school normally takes five minutes from my house, but today my death march seemed to last forever, my stomach churning, as if twisting in upon itself, with every step I took.

I have been the schools honorary punching bag since my freshmen year when I was forced rather violently out of closet and everyone and their mothers found out I was gay. I was literally caught in the closet, the janitor's closet specifically, making out with my first boyfriend. A boyfriend who might I add bailed on me and moved away shortly after. You may be wondering why it's so bad, well you see as it turns out the students of West Lake are all homophobic, well maybe not everyone but enough to make life miserable and lonely. That's not even the worst part of that whole situation. No, the worst part is that I was caught by their leader Connor Rodgers. Let's put it this way he's smart, popular, a star athlete, and as if that wasn't enough he's gorgeous as sin too. He had black hair, smoky blue eyed, tanned and toned –as I had seen in the locker room- the only down side was that he was devil incarnate. It seemed as if his only mission in life was to terrorize me every single day. I've never really understood why he hates me so much, but he does and I'm used to it.

I sighed and ran my hand wearily over my face. I wasn't even at school yet and already I was tired, bone weary. I remember a time when I had friends, a time before this whole debacle started. I used to be a normal teenager, living without the constant fear and anxiety I am subject to now. I used to laugh and eat in the cafeteria, when my biggest worry was homework and getting decent grades. I was just another face lost in a sea of faces that made up West Lake. All my friends abandoned me when things started getting bad with Connor and his hellions. I would be lying if I said I don't resent them, because I do, but I don't blame them. Some of them stayed for as long as they could but in the end Connor got what he wanted. Me isolated and completely without support. How I miss those days of uncomplicated teenage-dom.

I arrived at school without incident, thank God. Luckily I also don't have any classes with the devil or his demonic minions this year. Well, except for his most recent girlfriend, Ashley Derwin, but she hasn't ever bothered me. Then the lunch bell rang and I thought I would drop dead on the spot, so I went to the only place I thought I might be safe. The bathroom.

Thank heavens it was empty or else my head would probably be forcefully shoved into a toilet, gross. I sat down on the equally disgusting floor opposite of the door, and just stared at the ceiling. I mean come on there is nothing in the world more interesting than a gum covered ceiling. I have the strangest urge to laugh at my own sarcasm, though I'm sure it would be a more than just little hysterical. I sigh and rest my head back against the gritty tiled walls, staring at the ceiling was better than receiving hateful glares from the entire student body.

Bathrooms and I seem to have a love hate relationship with each other. While at school they seem to be my safe haven but anywhere else they just seem to make my life worse.

So I sat on the filthy bathroom floor attempting to count the ceiling tiles because it was the safest place for me, that is until the bathroom door slammed open and in walked Satan himself. Man, if looks could kill, I'd be dead a thousand times over by now. To my utter dismay all I could think about was the way his shirt was pulled taunt against his well defined chest and abs. My breath hisses through my gritted teeth, shit! He looked good, positively edible. Damn it, I glare at my groin, traitorous bastard.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't little Gavin Peters. Lord of the fags." Connor said, venom dripped off of his every word as he glared at my seated form. I did a mental eye roll at the obvious Lord of the Flies twist. Really Connor? Couldn't he come up with something more creative than that? He walked over to the mirror and leaned against one of the sinks, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. I'm not little, but I am dwarfed by Connor. See about I'm 5'9", a good size, but he's at least 6'2" which makes me rather short in comparison.

I keep my mouth shut because I know my words would somehow be used against me, they always are. So I ignore him and just look back up at the ever so fascinating ceiling. Hmm… is that a happy face?

"You better respond when I talk to you, fagot." He growled before picking me up and slamming me against the wall, one of his hands pinning my wrists above my head his other hand came up to rest at my throat. He couldn't have made the threat any more clear. In that instant I was transported back to a much more pleasurable bathroom encounter that I had with Connor.

During the summer after ninth grade I went to a house party to show that the names didn't really bother me and I was just going to live my life like I normally would have if I hadn't been thrown out of the closet. Before this party the extent of the bullying was half hearted name calling, well name calling from Connor seemed half hearted but his goons actually meant the harsh words that they would throw at me in the halls the final weeks of ninth grade. When I got to the party everything seemed alright, everyone there was drunk and didn't care what my sexual preferences are. Hot in Herre by Nelly was playing as I first walked in the house, I had been here before for a class project earlier in the year and the set up had changed, all the furniture was pushed against the walls to make room for a the grinding, gyrating bodies on the make-shift dance floor. I squeezed through the crowd in the pact house to the kitchen for a drink so I could be just as drunk as everyone else. When I reached the collection of alcohol and sodas on the counter and decided on vodka and sprite, as I reached for a red solo cup I stopped when another hand bumped into mine.

I looked up at the hands owner and it turned out to be Connor himself. That's when things got weird, he decided to smile at me and hand me a cup instead of glaring and calling me a faggot or an anal astronaut. I smiled back and nodded my thanks as I took the cup and poured some vodka and Sprite into it, more vodka than Sprite obviously, and then disappeared into the crowd.

I just finished my fourth drink while dancing my fairy ass off to I Kissed a Girl by Katy Perry when my bladder decided to remind of its existence. I stumbled toward the back of the house to the nearest bathroom. I opened the door without even thinking of knocking to see if anyone was in there and close the door behind me.

I look up and see Connor taking a leak and the two percent of my brain that is actually coherent is telling me to get the fuck out there but the other ninety-eight percent that is drunk and stupid says look at his dick. So which part of my brain do I decided to listen too, the stupid drunk part of course.

"Hey there big boy" I say out loud as Connor is putting his cock back in his pants. I'm normally not that bold but shit happens when drinking copious amounts of liquid courage.

Connor jumps and almost falls over but catches himself on the wall, shocked that someone else is in there him. I can hear Shake That Ass by Eminem playing outside as I took a couple steps toward him, cornering him in the small room. "You shouldn't be in here" he slurred, he's probably just as drunk as I am.

"I shouldn't be a lot of things" I say closing the gap between us.

"What are you doing?" He asked when I got so close that we could smell the alcohol on one another's breathes.

"Probably something incredibly stupid." I said just before wrapping my hands around the back of his neck and pulling him down into a kiss.

I don't know what possessed me to kiss him or what I was expecting to happen but it definitely was not this. I didn't expect Connor's hand to fist in my shirt, I didn't expect him to pull me closer, but most of all I didn't expect him to kiss me back.

I don't know if it was a coincidence or if it was his spidey senses tingling but after only a moment he pushed me away at the same time as the door slammed open to reveal not one but three of Connor's drunk friends.

"Dude what the fuck is taking so-" One of them started.

"Get the fuck off me faggot!" Connor said interrupting his friend. He then raised his fist and punched me right in the face.

From that moment on I've been the flaming rainbow personal punching bag of Connor and his cronies. Although I will admit to deserving that first punch in that bathroom because I was being creepy, but the subsequent punches, kicks, toilet dunking, trash-canings, and various other abuses are a little much. I thought about transferring schools once about half way through tenth grade but I refused to give up and let those homophobes win. That's why I try avoiding the devil and his followers at all costs so I find places to hide at school during lunch and so far the bathroom farthest away from the cafeteria has been successful in keeping me safe.

Hesitantly I looked up into his intense cold blue gaze, eyes so fucking gorgeous that they took my breath away. Stupid hormones. His eyes slowly traveled to my lips, confusion thick in his icy gaze. My heart beat rapidly within the confines of my chest and all the blood in my body rushed south of the border. His hand loosened their bruising grip on my wrists and he stepped closer to me so that we were almost touching. My pulse raced beneath his hand and I licked my lips nervously. His eyes darkened as he watched my mouth, and as wrong as it was I could feel my body heat with the beginnings of arousal, I'm so fucked. Connor slid his hand around my neck tangling his fingers in the unruly hair at the base of my skull. Our breath mingled when he pulled my hair and tipped my head back, and for a moment as crazy as it sounds I thought that he was going to kiss me… again.

The moment was shattered when the bathroom door flew open and admitted two members of Connors entourage but I can't tell which members because of their leader was blocking my view. Connor stiffened his grip on my wrists once again becoming painful as did the grip he had on my hair. I tried not to wince, and from the look on his face I don't entirely succeed. His eyes are no longer smoldering all the heat has been leech out of them, was it ever there to start with or was it just my imagination. His eyes are so cold, devoid of anything resembling humanity. My heart jumps in my throat but this time it not with desire but fear. I'm so fucked, and not in the good way.

"What have you caught Conner? Is it our favorite little rainbow piñata?" One of the hellions asks and I can practically hear the malicious smile I know he was wearing.

Connor released me and stepped back quickly as if the touch of my skin burned. Without his aid I collapsed to the floor. I looked up at him from my place on the ground unable to suppress the small tremors wracking my body. I noticed distantly that the minions were standing by the door like evil sentries there to make sure I won't escape. A devious smile appeared on Connor's lips as he looked down on me, before I could move his foot connected forcefully with my side. I bit my lip to keep making a sound as my body was flung against the wall. I learned a long time ago that to show any signs of pain only made the beatings worse.

"I think I've made my point clear." Connor smirked and turned motioning to the two other boys.

"Conner you're no fun, I wanted a turn too." The blond one wines and glared back at me.

"Don't worry there will be time for that later, plus you owe me a fuckin' brownie asshole." Connor said pushing the other boys out before him.

I gathered my courage and looked up, he was at the door looking back at me with something that may have been regret in his eyes, but before I could tell for sure he was gone. As soon as the door closed I coughed and wheezed gripping my side in a vain attempt to reduce the pain. I think I may be delusional, there was no way in hell Connor felt regret. I think maybe these daily beatings are finally getting to me.