Date: Tue, 13 Mar 2012 19:43:03 -0400
From: Cy-kun <cysanonymouslyanonymousemail@gmail.com>
Subject: Oh Radio Tell Me Everything You Know Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Sex: This story has it, eventually. And it's between boys. If
that bothers you, or you don't like stories that don't jump into the sex
right away, then this probably isn't for you. Copyrighted material: Again,
this story has it. I don't own the copyrights, I don't pretend to, and this
is free so I can't get sued anyway. True stories: This is not based on one.

Introduction: I....I have horrible news. My.....my Xbox is dead. Halfway
through Mass Effect 3 and it just freaking stopped reading discs. I know!
Cry if you need to. I know I did. But, you guys should be glad I had this
chapter all pre written and crap or else halfway through it'd turn into
Andy ranting about a 360 he doesn't have breaking. Instead you get it
unmarred, pristine even. Like, if Poland Spring was actually a real spring
instead of just like a code name for all the springs they get their water
from, that's what this chapter would be like. Poland Spring. Oh, and I
promise I'll stop putting this in the intros soon but the Twitter really is
the best place to get updates on chapters, so,
https://twitter.com/#!/Captain_Cy_kun.  Again, don't need to follow if you
don't want to, just keep an eye on it. Anyway, thanks to everyone who sent
in emails about chapter one b^_^ I'm glad you guys are liking it so
far. Enjoy number two!

	-Cy

-------------------------------------

	Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

	This was my mantra for the day. I am SUCH an idiot! Acting like
some screaming girl at a Justin Beiber concert? And over what? A few
minutes of shy, stuttering conversation and a sexy voice? You know better
than this Andy! You know better than to just let people in like that....

	I didn't wake up like this. I woke up the same way I went to sleep,
with a smile on my face and thoughts of Owen in my head. I wondered if he
was waking up just then. What he'd make for breakfast. If he'd drive to
school or take the bus. What he'd talk to his friends about while he waited
for homeroom to start.

	And that's why I was stupid to even START down this path.

	I should have known that I wouldn't be able to leave it alone after
one night. I should have known that as lonely and sad as I was if I let
ANYONE, let alone someone as seemingly perfect as Owen -no you will NOT
sigh when you think his name dammit!- in past my defenses I'd latch onto
them and start to obsess, completely forgetting that there was a very good
reason I had those defenses in the first place. And now here I was, about
to go to school the day after everyone in school thinks I "outed" myself
and all I can think about is whether or not somebody I never met likes his
eggs scrambled or over easy. Now, in addition to the insults and the
probable beatings, I also had the inevitable heartbreak to look forward to
when this stupid haze of infatuation cleared and I realized that I'll never
mean anything more to Owen than a phone call one night.

	Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

	Ok, I need to stop thinking about him. I don't care what he's
wearing. I don't care what color his hair is. I don't care if he chews his
pencil when he's thinking. I. Don't. Care.

	If I tell myself that enough it'll start to be true. It has
to. Because if today goes as bad as I think it's going to then there is no
way I'll be able to survive a crush this intense falling apart at the same
time. No way.

	For the millionth time this month I cursed my shyness, my
awkwardness, my looks, the way I act, the way I sound, everything about me
that makes me the friendless loser that I am. If I was normal and had
friends like everyone else I wouldn't be this obsessive over someone I've
never met. If I had friends I probably would have been just one of the
other faceless kids watching Jarred Walters play with himself in the
showers and then watching while he took out his anger or embarrassment or
whatever on whoever took my place as the friendless loser nobody wants
anything to do with.

	Instead I'm lying awake in my bed waiting for my alarm to go off
while staring at my ceiling and wondering what color Owen's ceiling might
be.

	Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

	Oh, Andy, this is gonna hurt.

	I was saved from further torture by, of all things, my mom. I guess
getting me up five minutes early is part of my punishment or something. I
didn't care. It gave me an excuse to do something besides think about Owen.

	But just because someone has an excuse to do something doesn't mean
they always do it.

	Take me for example. As I ate breakfast, I thought of Owen. As I
brushed my teeth, I thought of Owen. As I took my shower, I thought of
Owen. As I furiously masturbated because of my previous thoughts of Owen, I
thought of Owen. As I got dressed....

	You get the picture.

	I was a complete mess by the time I got out to my bus stop. Then
things got worse. Obsessing about my obsession with Owen kept me from
thinking about school today but the second I started waiting for the bus
those worries came back.

	Panic attack doesn't even begin to describe it.

	I was trying to decide whether the sound I was making while
desperately trying to force air in and out of my lungs was more like a
skinned cat with a hole in it's throat or an old, religious woman being
confronted with the moral degradation of society, when I ended up getting
my first taste of how the rest of the day was going to go.

	"Hey, Sandy, what's up?" Came the stupid voice of stupid Simon Dean
with his two stupid first names. I didn't think he'd be at the bus stop
today. He usually gets driven in. There must be a game tonight because he
only ever rides the bus so he can show off his stupid football jersey to
all the vapid, shallow, giggly girls on the bus. What was even worse is
that he looked criminally good in it and more often than not I found myself
idly staring at him out of the corner of my eye. Not now though. Now, aside
from a slight tensing up, I didn't show any sign that I actually heard
him. It's a surprisingly good defense strategy. If you don't react
sometimes they just give up. "Hey," he said and shoved me. "I asked you a
question, Sandy. It's rude to ignore me like that." And then sometimes it
just makes things worse.

	"Nothing much." I muttered without looking at him. Where is that
stupid bus? I bet Owen doesn't-no, not going there. Not now.

	He didn't say anything else, but I could feel him staring at me. I
hated that feeling. It made my skin crawl. I wished I wore a watch so I
could stealthily glance at it and see if it's anywhere near time for the
bus to get here without him noticing, but like everyone else I just used
the clock on my cell phone. Please just let that be it. He can stare at me
all he wants, hell even his little insults aren't that bad, just don't let
him mention-

	"So I heard Jarred kicked your ass." he said and I didn't even have
to look at him to see the gleeful smirk on his face. I'd seen it before a
bunch of times on a lot of different people. I didn't need to see it
again. I just closed my eyes and waited for whatever was gonna happen
next. There was no way to stop it. Schools at least have the occasional
adult to break up the beatings before they get too bad. Bus stops? Not so
much. "Hey! Sandy! What did I say about being rude? Answer my question." he
demanded with another shove.

	You didn't ask one, jackass. Fortunately, years of dealing with
crap like this has given me a pretty good brain to mouth filter so I didn't
actually commit suicide by saying that. Unfortunately it looked like I was
supposed to be participating in this.....whatever it was. At least I knew
my lines.

	"Yeah. He did." I said softly, still not looking at him. It hurt
more than it usually does. I was still stinging over the total unfairness
of getting in trouble for something that really wasn't my fault, having my
face rubbed in it by a gorgeous asshole just made it worse.

	Simon laughed. "Damn right he did. There's no way Jarred'd let a
little fag like you suck on his dick." I started to blush
horribly. Great. Now it just looks like I'm getting all flustered thinking
about Jarred. Fucking hell just beat me up and get it over- "It's too bad I
wasn't there." he said in a strange tone and suddenly I was very aware of
how close he was to me. "You coulda sucked on me if you wanted it so bad."

	What the fuck? I forgot all my rules and common sense and spun
around to stare up at him. He was right there leaning over me with his
stupid sexy red jersey and the expected smirk, but it was just a little bit
different. Combined with the way his way too intense eyes were locked on my
lips and not my face or my eyes it almost looked like a leer.

	Ohmygod.

	He was SERIOUS.

	My eyes widened and a sudden panic filled me, but just as I was
about to step back the sudden screech of a stopping bus from right behind
me made me jump forward. Oh fuck! I took a few panicked breaths and had no
idea what was scaring me more, the look in Simon's eyes or the fact that I
almost walked backwards in front of a freaking bus!

	A shadow fell over me. Shit! I jumped closer to him! I looked up
into his eyes, sometimes you can see it there before they start to beat you
and I figured it would work for this too and maybe I could escape, but he
didn't even look at me, just walked past me, bumped me with his shoulder
hard enough that it almost knocked me off my feet and walked onto the bus.

	I stood there staring blankly after him, trying to get my breathing
back under control. Ok.....Ok. I took one last steadying breath. Maybe I'm
more freaked out by this than I thought. Simon was just fucking with me. He
had to have been. There is NO WAY that Simon freaking Dean would want
to.....Yeah. No way. He was just trying to harass me and I fell for it like
a first grader who wandered too close to the "big boy" side of the recess
field and said, all smiles and innocence, "Yeah, I'd love a hurts donut!"

	I felt relieved, even though that was probably gonna set the tone
for the rest of the stuff I'd have to deal with today. I didn't even
care. I was just glad that what I thought was gonna happen wasn't actually
gonna happen.

	"You getting on or what, kid?" the gruff, old bus driver shouted.

	I jumped again, but scurried onto the bus. He closed the door
almost before I got my feet on the first step and pulled away with a sharp
jerk before I found a seat. I glared at him in the mirror, but he ignored
me. I sighed. Why do people only ignore me when I don't want them to?

	The bus was way too silent for any vehicle filled with high school
kids who just woke up, but that would be because they were all too busy
staring at me so, no real surprise there. I brushed my hair back from my
eyes just enough to take a quick look, trying to assess the level of "let's
fuck with Andy" on everyone's faces.

	Most of the kids had some kind of smirk, like they were waiting for
something. A few of the jocks sitting in the back looked like they wanted
to kick my ass but that wasn't really anything new. Simon was giving me his
usual "step near me and I'll make you pay because I'm so bad ass" look and
that just made me even more sure that I'd been totally wrong about what
happened before the bus showed up.

	And then there was Kyle, Jarred's closest....I dunno, lackey I
guess. I don't think he really has any friends. Which is typical. Jarred
fucking Walters is too cool to need something that I'd give up almost any
body part to have. Anyway, Kyle was sitting near the back with a giddy
little grin on his chiseled, ruggedly -for a 17 year old anyway- handsome
face. Well. At least I knew where the first shot was gonna come from.

	"Hey Mandy!" Kyle shouted. Sometimes I REALLY hate having a name
that rhymes with so many girls names. "Nice pants. Was your dress in the
wash?"

	Everyone laughed and even though I'd expected it, my face still
turned red. God I hated being the center of attention!

	I stayed still as the bus drove and the laughter continued. All the
seats had at least one person sitting in them and I'd been through similar
things enough times to know that no one was gonna let me sit with them.

	"You really think he's got a dress?" one of the back seat jocks
shouted out.

	"Of course." Kyle said, smirking. "All fags wear girl clothes. It
feels better on their gay vagina's."

	Yeah and that would make me a GIRL, you idiot. Which means I
wouldn't be GAY for liking guys. Again, I didn't say anything. Instead I
found a nice spot on the floor to look at until this was over
with. Everyone else just laughed some more.

	There were more insults. I tried tuning them out but just when I
was starting to get used to one persons insults someone else joined in and
I was drawn out of my thoughts. Which was probably a good thing since all
of those thoughts were about Owen. I needed to STOP thinking about him, not
use him as the only thing in the way of hearing every hateful thing these
kids were shouting at me.

	One of the things that had always been a small miracle in my very
much miracle-less life was that I lived pretty close to the school. My stop
was the last and it seriously cut down on the harassment time that the
mouth breathers got with me. Today though it seemed to take a little longer
than usual. Somehow we managed to hit every light and if we got over 25
miles per hour even once then I'll ACTUALLY suck Jarred off.

	I could almost feel the spitefully gleeful look the bus driver was
no doubt giving me burning into the back of my head.

	The taunts and insults never let up the entire way there and even
though I was more than experienced at things like this by the time the bus
stopped I was almost in tears. God! I'd been made fun of, beat up, called
every name anyone could possibly think of, but this was the first time I'd
ever really felt like anyone actually hated me for who I was instead of who
they thought I was.

	Yeah, I'd been called a fag pretty much since my school year
figured out what a fag was but this was the first time since they all
"knew". Or, I guess I should really say knew without the quotes because
even though I was "outed" by doing something everyone else was doing I was
still gay so technically I was actually outed. For the first time people
weren't just calling me a fag because they didn't like me or because it was
the most hurtful thing they could think of, they were calling me a fag
because I WAS a fag. I never thought that would make that much of a
difference.

	But it did.

	Thankfully even the Bus Driver from Hell could only go so slow so
we got to school before any of the tears seeped out. Although part of me
just wanted to do it and get it over with so at least the worst thing that
could possibly happen today happened and the rest of the day could only get
better, a much bigger part knew that things could ALWAYS get worse so I was
glad we got there when we did.

	Standing up at the front had it's good points and the doors had
barely opened before I jumped off the bus and tried to get lost in the
crowd of kids streaming into the school.

	Blending into a crowd of school kids is an art, and I'm a fucking
artist. I'd spent pretty much my entire school "career" -as the teachers
like to call it for some reason- trying to avoid being noticed and I'd
gotten really, really good at it over the years. Dark, dull colors. No
slogans, pictures or large logos. Jeans or cargo pants, ALWAYS securely
held with a belt in case of pantsing attempts. Sneakers that don't squeak
on wet floors. Always keep your head down, avoid eye contact and move as
quickly as possible without actually running or running INTO anyone.

	It's boring and I was probably the least "expressive" teenager
ever, but it went a long way to keeping me safe and that was more important
than looking good.

	I did make a few concessions to being me though. The first was my
hair. It was long, about shoulder length, not exactly great for blending in
especially with how black and shiny it always was, but when I let it fall
in front of my face it was like a silky curtain separating me from the rest
of the world. It made me feel safe. I always retreated behind my hair when
I felt threatened or wanted to hide so, yeah, I spent a lot of time with my
face mostly covered with a wall of hair.

	The next were my shirts. They were ALWAYS long sleeve, even on the
hottest days of summer. It was another way to feel shielded. I felt safer
with my skin covered up. A little discomfort in hot weather was a small
price to pay for that.

	I got lost pretty quickly in the crowd. Even though I was probably
the biggest gossip topic today, in the mornings most people wanna empty out
their heavy bookbags and get to homeroom before sniffing out a loser to
make fun of, so no one was really looking for me. I was suddenly very
thankful that I had detention today. The two best ambush points for jocky
assholes to try and catch me were my locker and homeroom and because I had
to go straight to the detention room from the bus, I got to skip all
that. After about a minute of walking through the crowd without anyone
noticing me I relaxed slightly.

	My thoughts immediately turned to Owen.

	Was he here? He WAS on the high school radio station so he had to
go to my high school, there was a very real possibility that he could be
near me right now. My heart started to beat faster. Goddammit Andy! Get it
together! You can't do this, not today, not ever. Even if you found him,
what then? You'd never talk to him and even if you did he'd eventually find
out that you're THAT Andy and he'd never want anything to do with you ever
again. Hell, he'd probably join in on the Great Fag Beatdown and make a
whole bunch of new friends while he was at it.

	No. No he wouldn't.

	We hadn't talked long but it was enough for his personality to
break through YEARS of barriers and walls that I'd put up to protect myself
from emotional torment. That didn't happen because he was an asshole. And
it didn't happen because of my stupid crush either. The only way something
like that could have happened is if some part of me somehow KNEW without a
tiny bit of doubt that he was that most rarest of things, a genuinely nice
person.

	No! Don't even THINK about keeping that stupid grin on your face
Andy! Even if he's nice you'll still never have anything with him beyond a
caller and a radio host so don't even start. I bit my cheek and stared
resolutely ahead. Good. Now just walk to the detention hall and try to make
a plan for how you're gonna get out of here at the end of the day. I picked
up my pace.

	It didn't keep me from listening to the people talking around me as
I walked, but I was almost able to convince myself that I wasn't listening
for Owen's beautiful voice.

	"-last night! Can you believe it? Sarah told me-"

	"-all over the place, it was awesome! I've never SEEN anyone that
drunk-"

	"-need a trap card! A trap card! You can't just-"

	"-beat by Jarred in the showers. I always knew he was looking at
us, the little fag-"

	I hunched down on myself and started walking faster. When I got to
the detention room I was surprised and a little bit worried that instead of
feeling relief that I'd gotten there without anyone noticing me, all I felt
was disappointment that I didn't hear Owen.



***


	Detention is boring. I know, insight of the year, right?

	The detention room was just a fancy name for a classroom that was
too small to hold the usual 40 or so kids, so they put a few desks in it
for the troublemakers and one for the teacher unlucky enough to pull
detention duty for the day and, bam, instant jail. When I walked in I had
to go up to the jailer for the day, today it was Mr Collins my 9th grade
science teacher, and get all my classwork and homework for the day. Then he
pointed to a desk, I sat down, and started working.

	See? Boring.

	But as boring as it was I could have stayed there forever.

	Detention is probably the safest place you can be in
school. Talking isn't allowed so no one can insult you. The desks are all
really far apart, to keep us from passing notes and stuff like that, so no
one could reach over and hit me if the teacher wasn't looking. The teacher
NEVER left so there wasn't even any tense, locked in a room with
troublemakers moments to look forward to. Even now the few kids in there
with me, including one jock -guess he didn't have Jarred's special
immunity- who usually liked to give me crap, completely ignored me. It was
the closest I'd ever come to fitting in with a group.

	Which is all kinds of pathetic.

	The one bad thing about detention was actually supposed to be a
good thing. But, just like choosing your own partners for projects (I
always have to sit around awkwardly and wait to get paired with the other
kid who couldn't find anyone) and pizza parties (I hate pizza), what was
good for other people was bad for me. If you didn't bring your own lunch,
they let you go to the cafeteria at lunch time to buy something. For most
people, if they time it right, they can stretch their legs and get some
socializing time with their friends. For me, it was being ejected from my
safe fortress to desperately try and sneak into the one place where
literally everyone who wanted to get at me was gonna be.

	I was not looking forward to it.

	And, yeah, I know it's kinda my fault for not bringing a lunch but
I NEVER bring a lunch so I just don't think about it. There's just
something really gross about food sitting in a bag in your locker for half
the day. Totally freaks me out.

	I tried not to think about lunch, but instead of concentrating on
my work all I could think about was Owen. Did he have problems with math
too? Did he like history? Did he think English was boring? Has he ever had
detention? By the time lunch came around I'd pretty much perfected
multitasking, I could yell at myself for being an idiot about Owen while
thinking about how hot he probably looks concentrating on a hard math
problem.

	Then Mr Collins told us that we could go buy lunch. Before he even
finished the part about being back in twenty minutes or getting another day
added to our sentence I was out the door and running down the hall.

	I made it to the lunch room in record time and the only thing
anyone said to me was a "watch it, asshole!" shouted at my back as I ran
by.

	I didn't have as much luck when I got to the cafeteria.

	I managed to make it to the food line without being noticed by
anyone, but it turns out that waiting in line with a bunch of people isn't
the best way to stay hidden.

	"Hey," the annoyingly peppy blonde girl in front of me
said. "Aren't you that kid that tried to molest Jarred in the showers?"

	And that was all it took. Everyone within hearing distance stopped
talking and turned all their attention to me. I let my hair fall in front
of my face and tried really hard to pretend I didn't hear her. Maybe that'd
work this time. And, what do you know, it actually did. She didn't ask me
again.

	Unfortunately that was because someone else answered.

	"Yeah, that's him." My eyes darted to my left and I saw another
bright red jersey. That's all I needed, another fucking football
player. Dammit.

	"Oh. My. God!" the first blonde turned around and yelled. "Amanda!
This is the kid that tried to feel up your boyfriend!" she pointed at me.

	Ah, fuck.

	This was.....not gonna end well.

	Amanda Ritter was Jarred Walters with a vagina. Think of every
total bitch teen movie stereotype ever and then add about ten pounds of
makeup and you've got a pretty good idea of what she's like. Vain, mean,
totally obsessed with being loved by everyone and if that wasn't enough
reason to want nothing to do with her, she was dating Jarred again. Well,
this week anyway.

	And now she was standing in front of me with her arms crossed
glaring down at me. Did I mention how tall she was? I mean, she's only a
year older than me, I shouldn't have to look up that far.

	"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded. "Don't they expel
people for doing what you did?"

	More people were watching now and I felt my face heat up. I wanted
to say something, I wanted to SCREAM that I didn't try to blow Jarred or
whatever people were saying I did now, I wanted to yell that all I did was
look at the idiot who decided to play with his dick in the high school
showers and that if anyone did something gay in the locker room that it was
Jarred.....but all I did was stand there and soak up the stares and the
mocking giggles.

	"Well?" she shoved me and just to add even more humiliation to this
whole thing it was hard enough to make me stumble back a few
steps. Everyone laughed. "Who the hell let you back into school you little
freak?" Great, now everyone knows that even girls can push me around. I
clenched my eyes shut as tight as I could, thankful that my hair kept
people from seeing what I was doing. You will NOT cry Andy. You
will. Not. Fucking. CRY.

	"Oh my god." the jersey jock laughed. "What a pussy!"

	Everyone laughed again. Aren't there supposed to be teachers here?
There's a pretty big crowd holding up the lunch line, somebody should
really come check this out and then FUCKING SAVE ME!

	"Hey Andy." I jumped at the familiar voice that cut through the
laughter from right next to me. My eyes shot open and standing right next
to me wearing baggy jeans and a tight tanktop that showed off her leanly
muscled arms and the very bottom of her tight, ripply stomach was Cheryl. I
don't think I'd ever been happier to see her.

	"What do YOU want, dyke?" Amanda asked disdainfully, but I noticed
that she took a small step away when she noticed Cheryl. After a certain
incident last year that ended with three members of the varsity football
team bloody, and one of them sobbing like a two year old, no one was all
that interested in pissing Cheryl off. Normally it'd be a huge hit to my
barely there pride to hide behind her but with the way today was going I'd
fucking gladly play the little bitch if it got me the hell out of here
before I started crying or got my ass kicked by a girl.

	"Oh, hi Amanda!" Cheryl said cheerfully and took a step towards
her, smiling happily. Amanda practically jumped backwards and I had to
fight not to laugh. Most of the people around us stopped looking so
interested and a few even went back to their conversations, but mostly they
just tried to avoid getting noticed while still watching. Actually, they
were probably more interested now than they were before. Everyone had seen
me get my ass kicked before, so that wasn't really all that big a
deal. Almost no one had ever actually seen Cheryl fight. Mostly people just
see the part after the fight where the people stupid enough to start
something with her were carried off to the nurses office and, more often
than not, to the hospital right after. "I didn't see you there. How have
you been?"

	Amanda gave her a wary, confused look. She didn't seem like she had
any idea how to react to Cheryl's casual cheerfulness. "Fine." she said,
then scowled. "Whatever." she looked around and seemed to remember that she
was in a crowded room and took that to mean she was probably safe from
getting attacked. Her sneer returned. "Get the hell out of here." she
said. "This doesn't have anything to do with you."

	"You can flirt with Andy later." Cheryl said breezily, pushing a
few of the dark brown strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind
her ear. "I need him right now."

	That actually got a few chuckles from the crowd and I couldn't help
grinning for just a second at the two tiny pink spots that formed on
Amanda's cheeks.

	"I'm-" she started but Cheryl acted like she hadn't heard her.

	"By the way that's an awesome shirt." Cheryl said, nodding towards
the baby blue, um, girl shirt thing that Amanda was wearing. "It'd really
suck if you got blood all over it." The sweet smile on her lips was
completely at odds with the hard, threatening look in her eyes.

	Amanda's mouth froze open mid word and she looked like her brain
shorted out from trying to decide whether to be offended or scared. I never
got the chance to find out what she decided because almost as soon as the
words were out of her mouth Cheryl grabbed my wrist and pulled be after her
as she walked quickly towards the tables.

	"You're my hero." I said gravely after catching up with her.

	"I know." she said simply. We got to one of the small, empty, round
tables and she pointed at a chair. "Sit."

	I rolled my eyes, but sat down. I usually hated when she started
treating me like a pet but we'd been friends long enough for me to know to
pick my battles with her. "Seriously," I said as she sat down across from
me. "Thanks."

	She stared at me for a second, then sighed sadly. "Wow, they must
have really gotten to you if you're not even gonna yell at me for doing
that."

	I closed my eyes briefly. "I don't really wanna talk about it." I
said softly.

	"Alright." she said, just as soft. We were silent for a few seconds
before she let out a very un-girly but so very Cheryl snort. "And get your
hair out of your face. I wanna actually see my best friend instead of
looking at his hair and getting all jealous."

	I let out a tiny, annoyed laugh but brushed my hair back so it was
held behind my ears. My hair was one of those things that always came up
between us. She always went on about how completely unfair it was that I
washed with generic brand shampoo and had shiny, silky hair and she had to
spend a half hour every day just to keep hers from being frizzy, and I
hated the constant reminder that I was less than manly. "Happy?" I asked.

	She nodded. "Very. You're way too pretty to cover yourself up like
that." she said with a smirk.

	I flushed slightly and snapped. "Shut up."

	She must have sensed that she was getting really close to crossing
the "friendly teasing-insulting Andy" line because she gave me a small,
apologetic smile and pushed her bag of lunch towards me. "Here. Eat this."

	I stared at it for a second, a little bit grossed out, but then
sighed and moved it in front of me. Eating old locker food was a lot more
appealing than trying to wait in the lunch line again. "Thanks." I said.

	She gave me a brief, "no problem" smile then asked, "So when do you
have to get back?"

	I looked at the clock on the cafeteria wall. I only had another
seven minutes before I needed to get back to the detention room, but
sitting here with Cheryl was the first time since my run in with Simon that
I'd felt even a little bit good all day and I wasn't in any mood to give
that up. "Screw it." I said. "I'll just stay here."

	Cheryl cocked an eyebrow. "You sure?"

	I nodded and opened up her lunch bag. Inside was a tightly wrapped
ham and cheese sandwich, a small bag of chips and an even smaller bag of
cookies. Suddenly, I was very hungry. "Yeah." I said as I took the food
out. "Another day of detention is more of a reward than a punishment right
now anyway."

	"Andy..." she said sadly.

	I cut her off with a scowl. "Here." I said and shoved my lunch
money at her. "Buy something so you don't starve."

	She rolled her eyes and pushed the money back to me. "There was an
entire other half to that sandwich, I'm fine. Besides, you know I don't
like owin' you money."

	My heart suddenly skipped a beat. She said Owen. Well, ok, yeah,
she actually just left the "g" off "owing" but it sounded like Owen and now
I'm thinking about him again and I don't have anything to distract me! Is
he in the lunch room right now? What's he eating? Does he bring his own
food or buy his lunch? Would he think my hatred of bagged lunches is weird?
Cute? Stupid? Endearing? Would he talk while he ate or wait until he
swallowed? God I bet his voice would sound perfect even with a mouthful of
food.

	"What the hell is with that sappy, lovestruck smile?" Cheryl's
voice cut through my thoughts like a viciously serrated knife. Reality came
crashing back to my my absolute horror I could FEEL the smile on my
lips. My eyes widened and I blushed horribly.

	"I'm not in love!" I cried with more than a bit of panic. My eyes
widened and I clamped my hands over my mouth. Oh my god! Why did I say
that!? That sounds like I'm in denial. Which I'm not! Because I'm not in
love. Love is stupid and fake and doesn't exist and damn this stupid Owen
crush it's making me act like a damn girl!

	"Oh. My. God." Cheryl said with a grin that was half shock and half
delight. "Does my bitter, cynical Andy actually have a crush on someone?"

	"No!" I yelled and covered my mouth again. Goddammit Andy! What the
fuck!? Shut the hell up!

	"You do!" she accused. She leaned in closer to me and looked around
to make sure no one was around to overhear before going on. "What's his
name? Is he hot? Have you actually talked to him yet?" she asked eagerly.

	I was turning even redder so I covered my face with my hands and
shook my head.

	Cheryl laughed. "You are way too cute."

	I opened my fingers so my eyes were visible enough to glare at
her. She just rolled her eyes. "Oh come on. You can't just turn all red and
then hide behind your hands like that and expect me NOT to call you out on
how fucking adorable it is."

	"Shut up." I growled and kept up my glare.

	She sighed. "Fine. I'm not letting this go, but how about this?
I'll tell you who I like then you tell me who you like. Fair, right?"

	I groaned. "Cheryl, I-"

	"It's Brandon Carol." she said easily.

	"-don't want-" I froze, then blinked. I absently noticed my hands
slowly sliding away from my face as my brain tried to figure out if I heard
her right or if I was going insane. "What?" I asked stupidly.

	"What?" she asked back.

	I shook my head. "Brandon Carol?"

	She nodded. "Brandon Carol."

	I blinked again. "Cheryl." I said patiently. "He's the president of
the GSA." She arched an eyebrow as if to say 'yeah, so?' I rolled my
eyes. "Emphasis on the 'G'!"

	She shrugged. "So what? He'll still be mine."

	I gaped at her. I....literally have no idea how to respond to that.

	"Oh." Cheryl said with a frown. "Is he the guy you like?"

	"Hell no!" I yelled with a look of total disgust. "Not in a million
years!" I shuddered.

	If I was ever gonna feel anything for Brandon freaking Carol it
would be burning resentment followed by an intense need to throw something
heavy at his head. He was easily the most stereotypically gay boy in the
entire school district and, while that really doesn't bother me itself, the
fact that he's so obviously gay and has NEVER got even a fraction of the
abuse that I've gotten over the years just pisses me off every time I think
about it. That he has a group of friends that he fits in with just makes it
worse.

	"Then what's the problem?" she asked.

	I shook my head to clear all thoughts of anyone thinking that I
might like Brandon out of my head. "He's GAY, Cheryl. You can't date a gay
guy because you're a girl!"

	In the face of my overwhelming logic and common sense, she just
smirked. "We'll see." I opened my mouth but she cut me off. "But since I
told you, now it's your turn. Who do you like?"

	I was still reeling over the whole 'wanting to date a gay guy'
thing that the sudden change of subject, or I guess the sudden moving the
subject back to what it was, threw me. "I-what? No! I'm....no!"

	"Come on, Andyman!" she demanded. "Tell me."

	I groaned. "You're really bringing that one back?"

	"If you don't tell me, that's all I'm gonna call you." she
threatened.

	I narrowed my eyes. "Sure you wanna do that, Cher-bear?"

	She glared at me. "You promised!"

	"You promised too!"

	"What's his name!?"

	"Owen!"

	I blinked.

	Cheryl look surprised for a second, then crossed her arms and gave
me a satisfied smirk, all traces of anger gone.

	What.....what the hell just happened here?

	"I don't know anyone named Owen." she said thoughtfully. "Where'd
you meet him?"

	"I-I..." No, seriously, what the HELL just happened? And why do I
feel so trapped?

	She sighed. "You don't need to look all panicked, Andy. I'm not
gonna make fun of you for liking somebody or whatever's freaking you out so
much. It's just...I've never seen you even LOOK at someone who wasn't me or
our parents with anything other than wariness and suspicion and you looked
so....I dunno, blissful or something." She shrugged. "I just wanna know who
can put that look on your face." She looked me in the eye. "Besides you
already told me his name, you might as well tell me the rest."

	I noticed my breathing was rapid and panicked right about when it
started slowing down. Cheryl was right. Well, partly anyway. I knew she
wouldn't make fun of me for liking Owen, well not much anyway and not in a
mean way. But....ok as stupid as it sounds I don't wanna share him. This
whole stupid, bad idea crush was fragile enough already and it felt like if
I talked about it just the breath from my words would tear it apart.

	Oh god, did I really just say something that stupid and sappy? This
is even worse than I thought! It didn't even take a day for me to turn into
a melodramatic love song! This is what happens when you listen to music
that puts stupid ideas like true love and happily ever afters into your
head. You get all twisted up over a freaking VOICE of all things! Damn you
Taylor Swift what the hell have you done to me?!

	Still.....even knowing that, even KNOWING that this was gonna all
end in tears, I couldn't forget the way talking to him made me feel. I
couldn't forget that he was the only person besides Cheryl to see a
weakness in me and not use it to rip me apart. I couldn't forget his voice
and how every single word he said to me was burned into my brain.

	I couldn't forget the way he said my name.

	And, suddenly, I found that I actually kinda did wanna talk about
him. But I could at least try and tell myself it was only because I wanted
Cheryl to point out all the flaws that I was overlooking in
my....likestruck daze and bring me back to reality so I could get over this
and go back to the comfortable loneliness of not hoping.

	It wouldn't work, but I could try to tell myself that.

	"We-we didn't meet, really." I started haltingly. I grabbed
Cheryl's half drunk PowerAde and took a big gulp. "He was on the radio, on
the school station last night and he has a call in request show and, god,
he had the most amazing voice I'd ever heard. It was....I can't even
explain it. It was perfect." The sigh was out before I could stop it and I
blushed and looked down at the table, but pushed on. "Anyway I called in
and I was so scared I almost hung up but he sounded so sad that I wouldn't
talk that I just couldn't and, Jesus Cheryl he was SO nice. It's not even
REAL how nice he was. He talked to me and said my name and he liked Avril
and Taylor Swift and he didn't make fun of ME for liking them and, I fell
asleep happy." My voice lowered. "After everything that happened yesterday
I fell asleep happy just from a ten minute conversation."

	I took a deep breath and let it out as I waited for Cheryl to say
something. Reliving last night, talking about it, it was just....it made it
more real, somehow. That sounds so stupid, but it's true. And suddenly I
was terrified that Cheryl would do what I tried to convince myself I wanted
her to do and rip it all apart.

	After about a minute of silence where I felt like I was waiting for
someone to flip the switch on the electric chair I couldn't take it
anymore. I forced myself to tear my eyes away from the table and look at
Cheryl.

	She was staring at me, her mouth open in a perfect "O" of surprise,
looking more shocked than I'd EVER seen her. I started to get even more
scared. "Cheryl?" I asked tentatively.

	She blinked a few times, then finally broke the silence.

	"YOU called into a RADIO SHOW?" she gasped.

	I nodded.

	"YOU." she said again, no less shocked. "CALLED into a RADIO
SHOW. You?"

	I frowned. "THAT'S all you have to say?"

	"Jesus Andy!" She yelled, and I was thankful that we were far away
from everyone else. Being an outcast has it's good parts I guess. "You
almost fainted last year when you had to call that hotel that your dad was
staying at on his business trip. You used to screen calls from MY phone
just to make sure it was me. So, yeah, you calling into a radio show is a
pretty big deal."

	I let out a disgusted snort. "Aren't you gonna tell me how stupid
I'm being? That I should forget about him and live in the real world where
I don't get stupid crushes on radio voices?"

	Her surprised look quickly melted into her well practiced, "Andy
you're being an idiot" scowl and she reached across the table and slapped
the side of my head.

	"Ow!" I yelped, pulling back and rubbing my head.

	"Andy." she said sternly. "If you even THINK about not talking to
him again I'm gonna smack you even harder."

	I blinked, the pain completely pushed aside by the shock. "What?" I
said stupidly.

	She sighed. "You've had so much shit happen to you that you can't
even see something that could be great when it's right in front of you, so
I'm gonna be extra clear for the emotionally impaired." She fixed me with a
hard look. "If you let this go you'll regret it for the rest of your
life. Call him again."

	"What?" I was shaking my head before the word was even out of my
mouth. "No! I...no way!"

	"Why not?" she asked.

	"Because!" I said helplessly. "He...I...Dammit Cheryl! I...."

	"He makes you feel better." Cheryl said when it became clear I
couldn't put a thought together. "And right now you need that." she
sighed. "You're always so closed off to everyone but me, you've even gotten
distant with your dad-and I know why!" she rushed to finished when I tried
to defend myself. "You haven't had the best track record with people and
you're scared about what's gonna happen when your dad finds out your gay so
you close yourself off, I get it. But, you can't do that with everyone for
the rest of your life. This guy...he sounds nice and you obviously like
him." She gave me a small smile. "He could at least be a friend Andy. And
maybe more. But you'll never know unless you TALK to him! And if just
hearing his voice could get you over your phone thing maybe getting to know
him could fix the rest of you, too."

	See, this is the problem with opening up to people. With anyone
else I could have been able to block out the words and tell myself that it
was just more crap from someone who's screwing with me. But Cheryl? She was
already inside my walls. Hell, even if she wasn't she was there when they
were built so she knew all the secret ways to get by them. I had to listen
to her.

	But I didn't want to. I didn't want to hear her say the things that
I wouldn't even let myself hope for because, fine, I'm a big fucking pussy,
ok? I LIKE my walls. I LIKE being alone. I LIKE knowing exactly what to
expect from people, which is never anything good, because it's so much
better than getting my hopes up for nothing.

	 Except I don't like it, and it's not better, and ever since last
night it's getting harder and harder to pretend that it is.

	What is it about Owen that just shattered everything? I didn't even
know him and that was just beyond pathetic. The only way it could have been
worse is if I met him online. He didn't know me and I didn't know him so
there was no reason for him to make me feel the way I do. But no one else
knows me either and they automatically treat me like shit, so maybe that's
why. Maybe all I was looking for was somebody to meet me and just be NICE
to me for no other reason than that they thought I deserved being nice to.

	I didn't wanna think about this right then, or ever. But really not
after the day I'd had. So I just said the first thing that popped into my
head to keep Cheryl from saying anything else, which was probably a bad
idea. "I'm not broken." I said sullenly.

	"Yeah, you are." She said in her painfully direct Cheryl way. "And
I know other people broke you, but you can't put yourself back together,
and neither can I, but maybe radio boy can. Or maybe not. But it's a step
in the right direction. So call him again."

	"I can't!" I whined and, yeah it was a real whine and, yeah, it was
just as pathetic as you're probably imagining. But I couldn't help it. How
could I even START to explain how scary this was? How fucking easy it would
be to feel something for Owen beyond...whatever it is that I feel for him
now. How much it would just completely destroy me if it all went bad. I
couldn't. Not even to Cheryl. Not then. "Can we PLEASE just drop it for
now?" I begged, looking into her eyes. I knew she wouldn't forget about it
completely but I hoped she'd at least be able to leave it alone for a few
days. At least until the worst of the "get the fag!" crap was over with.

	She looked at me for a few seconds, then growled softly under her
breath. "Dammit! You know I can't say no to the big, brown puppy dog eyes!"
she huffed and crossed her arms, looking more like a little girl than she'd
ever looked. Even as a little girl. It almost made me smile. "But we're NOT
done with this." she added with a sharp glare. Yep. That was more my
Cheryl. Especially as a little girl. "Just, please think about it, ok?"

	"Kay." I said. It was an easy promise to give. It wasn't like I was
gonna be able to think of anything else for a while.

	"Ok." she said with a nod and an implied, 'I'll hold you to that'.

	Lunch was almost over but we spent the rest of the time mostly in
silence, eating Cheryl's chips and occasionally talking about unimportant
crap until the bell rang.

	"You want me to walk you back?" she asked as we were throwing her
garbage away.

	"No." I said with a tiny smile. "I'm good. Besides your next class
is nowhere near the detention room anyway. You'll be late."

	She snorted. "Yeah because I just love history so much." I shook my
head, but didn't say anything. "Call me after school, kay?"

	"I will." I said and with one last, small smile and a wave, I left.


***



	After spending lunch with Cheryl I was actually feeling....well,
not good really, that would have been a
Paula-Abdul-showing-up-to-the-X-Factor-sober type of miracle, but I was
feeling a lot better than I thought I would. So, of course, that's when I
had to run into Jarred.

	Literally.

	"Hey asshole, watch where you're go-" he stopped after shoving me
away and noticing just who'd run into him around that corner. His eyebrows
raised in surprise, then quickly settled into a scowl. "You." he said
menacingly.

	Oh.

	Shit.

	This is the LAST thing I needed right now! Fucking Jarred Walters
in all his 6"2', hard bodied, wavy brown haired, piercing blue eyed,
boyishly good looking glory standing in front of me looking at me like I
was a pile of dog crap he'd just stepped in. Not all that unusual. The look
I mean. But after the way today had gone I went from being mildly not
horrible to fucking terrified in less than a second, and I HATED that.

	Ok. Ok, Andy, just stay calm. Let him insult you, push you around,
whatever. Then he'll leave and you can go run back to detention and be
extra grateful that you've got an extra day now. There's still a lot of
people in the hall so he's not gonna do anything too terrible to you. Plus
he's alone, he's usually a lot less evil when he's alo-

	"Oh my god, is that faggot trying to feel you up again man?"

	Oh crap! That was Kyle and, yeah, there he is, coming around the
corner....shit, of course that's why I thought he was alone. Jarred always
leads the pack, which means Kyle might not be the only one following him
around that corner....

	Almost as soon as I thought it, it came true. Behind Kyle came
Simon and three other boys from the football team, all wearing their bright
red jerseys and all looking at me with a mix of amused delight and
impending malice. All except Jarred, he just looked pissed.

	It didn't take long before I was backed up against the nearest wall
with a semi-circle of jocks crowding me in. It was like being surrounded by
a wall of Axe body spray and ridiculously high self esteem. This was gonna
really, really suck.

	"He didn't feel me up." Jarred said, still glaring at me.

	Simon laughed and I wasn't all that surprised, but still a bit
grateful, that there was nothing of how he looked at me at the bus stop in
his mocking grin. "I bet he wanted to though."

	"Yeah." Kyle took up. "Jesus how pathetic is that? Can't even keep
his hands to himself in the middle of school. He must want you really bad
dude."

	I let my hair fall in front of my eyes, but it didn't make me feel
any more secure. They had me trapped and it looked like they were gearing
up for a pretty long stay so all I could do is just stand there and take it
and hope they didn't start beating on me if they didn't get bored and leave
by the time the bell rang and the halls cleared. Not that the people in the
halls now seemed to be all that eager to stop them if something
happened. Everyone was purposely looking the other way, ignoring what was
going on while they walked by. I saw Brandon and his group of GSA followers
coming down the hall. A few of them actually met my eyes and I must be
going insane because for a split second I thought that just maybe one of
them would say something, but one by one they all just looked away and
walked by.

	You were dead wrong on that one Cheryl.

	"He better keep his hands to himself." Jarred growled. "I don't
want some homo touching me." He leaned in closer to me. I tried to take a
panicked jump back but I was already against the wall and only managed to
bang my head a bit on the concrete. They all laughed, even Jarred, but his
cruel glare was quickly turned back on me. "Did you hear me, Brandy? Touch
me again and it'll be the last thing you ever do."

	God I hate this! I hate always being laughed at. I hate not being
big enough or strong enough to fight back. I hate that I was JUST starting
to feel like today maybe wasn't gonna be as horrible as I thought, that
MAYBE I could get through this and get home and not have to feel like I'm
so much less than everyone else. I HATE that Jarred fucking Walters gets to
stand there and make Saturday morning cartoon villain threats and there's
NOTHING I can do or say that won't just make everything a hundred times
worse! Most of all? I hate how fucking familiar this all is. I hate that
this isn't first or fifth or even the hundredth time something like this
has happened to me. I hate that it's always me. And...I hate that this had
to happen RIGHT after Cheryl messed my head up over the whole Owen thing
because that's the only explanation I have for what happened next.

	"You seemed pretty eager to touch me yesterday when you were all
naked and boned up, maybe I should be the one worrying about getting felt
up."

	Who....who the hell said that? I blinked. That sounded like
my....but it couldn't be because I'm not that stupid.....but they're all
looking at me like I.....

	Oh Andy, you idiot. What the hell did you do?

	I closed my eyes. I knew what was coming, and I definitely didn't
wanna see it. Yeah I'm a huge pussy remember, don't act so surprised.

	But you know what's kinda funny? Before the first punch hit me and
all I could think of was the best way to curl up into a ball, there was
only one thought in my head: That look on Jarred's face? That wide eyed,
surprised and slightly horrified look?

	So almost worth it.

-------------------------------------------

	Someday, I'll write a main character who's hair I'm not jealous
of....