Date: Sun, 29 May 2011 20:28:39 -0700 From: ?randon s?one <xbrandonroarsx3@gmail.com> Subject: Cameron & Sam, Chapter 4. Gay Highschool Love Stories. (: Cameron & Sam. Chapter 3; The next day, having driven myself to school on account of Sams doctors appointment, I walked through first hall by myself that morning. Ridgeway School for Boys was the only all-boys school in the city, and my parents hadn't wanted the distraction of girls ruining my high school education. Little did they know, it would be worse to put me in Ridgeway, but I definitely wasn't going to be one to complain. But I didn't like being alone here. Although half of Ridgeways population was either gay or bisexual, the other half was impeccably straight. And mostly, not in the good way. I wondered idly for a second, when Sam was going to be back. I missed him and I was starting to get towards the point where I couldn't stand being without him. As I turned a corner, I ran right smack into Quinton Burns. The school asshole. Football captain, stereo-typical jock, he was the leader of them all. I cringed as I looked up at him. He had to be at least a foot taller than me, if not more. "Hey, faggot," He called out casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking down at me. I kept a straight face as I mumbled, "Sorry," and hastily tried to fast-walk past him, but he put his arm out in front of me, leaning against the lockers. "I was talking to you," he said, sneering and narrowing his eyes at me. I grimaced involuntarily, looking around for an escape route, but everything was blocked by the dumb-shits he hung out with. I swallowed loudly as I tried to gather up the courage to say something. I turned to face him. "What the fuck do you want?" "Ooooh, damn, the faggot's got a dirty mouth. Did you hear that?" He burst out laughing and pounded his fist on the lockers, holding his stomach as he chortled. His friends laughed with him. What a great bunch of guys. I sighed quietly, checking my phone. I was going to be late for my next class. "Will you please just leave me alone?" I pleaded in a barely audible voice. He laughed louder, reaching out and grabbing my collar, dragging me towards him. He brought his face close enough to mine, so that the tips of our noses were touching. "But you're just so fun to mess with," He whispered, bringing his lips so close to mine they were almost touching. For a second I actually thought he was going to kiss me. He brought his left hand up, the one that wasn't still latched onto my collar, and gently brushed the backs of his knuckles over my cheek bone, making my eyes go wide. "You like that?" He asked me, tilting his head to the side, skimming his nose across my other cheek. Before I could say anything, or even shake my head no, he clutched the hand that he had caressed my cheek with, into a fist, and slammed it into my stomach with as much force as he could, knocking the wind out of me. I groaned in pain, and he shoved me up against the lockers, slamming my head into them, again and again, over and over. "Oh he does like that, doesn't he?" Quinton laughed, throwing me on the floor, and standing over me. "WHAT ARE YOU BOYS DOING?" A voice sounded from the end of the hallway, and all of us turned towards the sound. It was Mr. Murphy, the football coach. I grimaced again. Of course. Just my luck. "Nothing, Coach," Quinton muttered, and Mr. Murphy nodded. "Run along, boys." The group scattered and I pushed myself up to a sitting position, slumped against the lockers as I held my stomach. I quickly glanced at Mr. Murphy, and he sneered at me. "What are you looking at?" He snapped. "Get to class." I winced as I pushed myself up, grabbing my backpack and limping off. In a quiet voice behind me, came something I wished I hadn't heard. "Fucking fag," Murphy said, walking away. -------- The next morning, I woke up and went downstairs to take a shower, but as I peeled my shirt off, I stopped dead, staring down at my naked stomach in the mirror. Purple and blue blotches covered my skin. Almost all of my stomach was a dark shade of violet. But the only thing that popped into my mind was, 'How the hell am I going to hide this from Sam?' Three hours later, I climbed into Sams car, grimacing as my backpack brushed against my stomach. "What's wrong, gorgeous?" Sam asked, reaching towards me, but pulling back and taking my backpack from me, instead. "Nothing," I lied, flashing him a smile and closing my door. I turned to look out the window. We didn't say anything for the rest of the ride to school, and the silence was killing me. I wasn't sure what to say, or how to begin, though, so the silence remained. When Sam had pulled into a spot at Ridgeway, I leaned forward to grab my backpack and open the door, but Sam locked them before I could make my escape. I turned to look at him, frowning slightly, and my stomach dropped when I saw his expression. He was pissed. "Tell me, Cameron. I hate it when you keep secrets from me, especially if it's hurting you. You already know that I love you. I'm not going to hide it. Tell me now." I looked down at my lap, avoiding his eyes. "It's nothing, Sam, please-" "Dammit, stop!" He shouted, reaching over and grabbing my chin, making me look at him. "If you can't tell me, I feel like you can't trust me. Tell me what's wrong, you know you can trust me." He reached out to pat my stomach, a usual gesture, and I couldn't help myself from groaning in pain. I quickly covered my mouth, but he pulled back immediately, giving me a puzzled look. "What the-?" He yanked my shirt up, making me groan again, and he sucked in a deep breath. His expression became tortured. "Who did this to you?" He whispered. I shook my head, trying my best to not let the tears that were forming, escape. He clenched his hands into fists. "Who." "Quinton, it was Quinton, please just... Please stop." I started crying softly, feeling completely idiotic, but not being able to help myself. He dropped my shirt back down, wrapping his arms around me gently, holding me to his chest, and my stomach ached. He rubbed his knuckles gently down my spine and he sighed. "Let's skip, Cam. Let's go home."