“Why is it always like this…” Paul broke the silence.

Christopher jumped and looked at Paul. “What do you mean…?”

“Well… We always figure out things about each other at the most inconvenient of times. It gets annoying after a while. I found out that you have an anxiety disorder, and you found out that I’m living on my own.” Paul looked at Christopher, sitting up. “God my head hurts…” He groaned, holding his head.

“I-I can help with that…” Christopher said, then swallowed his words. No! Fuck! Wait-! God that sounded so bad. Christopher began to panic internally and he hid his face, hoping he wasn’t heard.

Paul laughed and Christopher looked up. “That sounded really bad.”

“Shut it. I realize that.”

“I thought you were too filled with hatred to really care about what you said.”

“That’s you, Paul. Not me.” Paul grinned, and Christopher’s mom came running in, hugging him.

“My poor baby!” She was a mess… “Oh, poor boy… You had another one of those--”

“Yes, Mom… I’m fine.” Christopher said, pulling on his sleeve wishing it could cover his shame.

“No, you’re coming home with me. I’ll pay the school to get you homeschooled if I have to.”

“Mom! No! I-I mean…” She smiled and practically dragged her son out of the nurse’s office. “Mom! I need my stuff!” Christopher quickly stated, and she let him go as he darted down the halls. A few moments later he had all his stuff, and headed back to his mom, looking down at the floor.

“Hey-!” Christopher fell, and a heavy figure landed on top of him as they crashed. Christophers backpack dug into his lower back, but it propped him up and the figure’s hands landed on Christopher’s arms, practically pinning him down. Their eyes met and widened. Paul. Paul quickly got up, walking off to class. Christopher picked up his stuff, and walked off fast, feeling his face redden in embarrassment. He found his mom at the front door out of the school, and she dragged him outside, putting him in the car.

On the way home, the conversation was as awkward as can be. “So, who’s he?”

“Who’s who, mom?” Christopher looked at her.

“The cute boy in the nurse’s office.” She grinned stupidly.

“Mom!” Christopher threw his arms up. “Why do you have to bring Paul into this?” And right into her hands, I play like a deck of cards that provide an instant win.

“Aww, that’s his name? It fits him.”

“Mom… Please…” She was right. It did fit him. Just as Christopher fit Christopher.

“You like him don’t you?”

“He bullies me! He chases me around the school! No, I don’t like him!” Christopher’s phone went off and he saw his phone being blown up with something that he was tagged in. He opened it up, seeing what had happened in the hallway. Oh. my. God. Christopher went red like Christmas lights and gasped sharply.

The video went on for several seconds before they got up and went their separate ways. They were both bright red embarrassed as hell. There was commentary too. “And here we see the wild unfortunate couple about to start making out in the hallway.” There were several quiet giggles, and he instantly knew who it was.

“What’s that?” Shit!

“Nothing mom. Nothing.” Christopher turned off his phone, but as he was about to, his phone began to “ping” with messages. “Ignore” was the name of the person. And he had a good reason to ignore this person.

Mom pulled into the driveway, and he jumped out, running into the house and into his room. He turned on his phone, seeing his phone blow up with messages from his ex-girlfriend. “i saw u with Paul.” “are u gay?!” “were u using me?!?!” “Christopher Allen Wilcher! answer me, rite now!”

Christopher felt his whole world fall. What the hell is her problem… I’m not even in her life anymore. Fuck off, Alandra. You aren’t in my life anymore. Even if I was gay, I wouldn’t want you to know. You can go fuck yourself.

Christopher put his phone down, and his phone beeped, which he picked it back up, agitated. It was a number he didn’t recognize that was texting him. Who are you?

Paul.

Christopher screamed and dropped his phone. Why the hell are you texting me?!

Christopher’s mom ran into the room, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing mom… I’m fine…” Yeah. Totally nothing…

“Okay...just...don’t...do that ever again. Understand? Unless there’s a huge spider or insect, don't scream.”

“Okay, mom.” Christopher felt like he was repeating himself over and over again. He picked up his phone, his hands shaking as if there was no tomorrow, and after this, Christopher wished that there wasn’t going to be one so that he wouldn’t have to face the embarrassment of his tumble with Paul.

Because dummy. I want to clear up that what happened wasn’t on purpose. It...was on accident… I wasn’t paying attention, and I knew I should have. Besides, that bitch Alandra recorded the damn thing and tagged us both in it.

Yeah. She’s just wanting to get back at me. Even though it’s near impossible to top what I did to her. After I found out about her.

Huh?

Oh… I uh...dated her at one point. It’s at the top of my regrets. I’m having a casual conversation...why...how… Christopher’s mind was messing with him.

Ha. I don’t have to deal with that shit. I’ve never dated anyone before. Can’t really find my type.

The halls are fluttering with hot girls. Besides, I expected your buddies to drug one of them to go out with you, and then their eternal hatred would shine brightly throughout the internet and you would be buried in your huge ego.

I would beat you to a pulp for saying that, but let’s save that for tomorrow. If I decide to.

Why?

My buddies might get to you first. When they do… it’s going to be a bloody mess.

~~Paul’s POV~~

Paul sighed, and Christopher responded, “Oh…”

Yeah. But… not my problem. He smirked, and Christopher stopped responding. He propped his feet up on his fold-down desk, looking up at the ceiling. “What is a guy like me to do? I could go violate a house…” Paul had decided to go home, but he knew why he passed out in class. “No… I’m not in the mood… What can I do? I could burn down that one house on Everson… That’s a pretty good house… But… AGH! Why can’t I think?!” He threw his hands up to his head, putting his feet flat down on the floor. One image popped into his head… Christopher. HE was messing with Paul’s mind. “WHY?!” Paul screamed, throwing his hands up as he got up.

I’ll kill him. No. No, I won’t. He has a reason to be someone. Why am I caring about him now? What-- Paul’s heart began to pound into his ears, deafening him. He covered his chest, feeling his heart pound and he was breathing unevenly. He sighed loudly, feeling everything inside of him go wrong. He felt the feeling he had when he first saw Christopher. He remembered feeling his whole body crash, and he felt how his heart pounded.

They had met in first grade, and Paul started bullying Christopher...for no direct reason it seemed. Except… Paul shook his head, “No.” He had had enough. He didn’t know how much more he could handle, and he wasn’t going to let himself get pulled into a spiral. But...he let his mind drift, despite his own feelings.

Paul remembered how small Christopher was when he first saw him, and...the look in those little blue eyes showed pure innocence mixed with excitement and worry. Paul tried to find something to get his mind off of his eyes, and he found that he resembled a small girl with short hair. So...that’s what he did. He found out his weaknesses and picked on him about that too. All the excitement was whisked from the little boy’s eyes, and to Paul...it hurt.

From then on, Christopher had no more excitement in his eyes. The innocence was washed away and replaced with fear, flooding both of their emotions. Paul cringed every time Christopher was punched by his own hand; he flinched every time Christopher fell to the floor; he cringed as every unsettling groan escaped his bloodied lips.

Paul felt his own world begin to fall apart as the first time he broke the once 3rd grader's wrist, bone poking the flesh that was as fragile and displaced as snow. He saw the look in Christopher’s eyes as he twisted and turned his wrist, cries echoing and screaming throughout the schoolyard. He couldn’t believe what he was doing, and when the principal finally split them, Christopher was bawling his eyes out, clenching his wrist as if he had the strength to snap it back into place.

Paul’s emotions swirled in his mind, and he was quickly taken away from the scene, suspended for three weeks. After that, they tried to keep him away, but nothing would work. Paul had become obsessed with madness, hoping to get Christopher away from him. Even then, he would draw himself to him, not wanting anyone to mess around with him but Paul himself.

When Paul had seen Christopher in his cast, he wanted to rush over and say he was sorry, not meaning to hurt him that bad. Deep inside, however, his inner demons found it adorable to see him in pain and wanted to see him in more of it. He felt guilty and didn’t do what he wanted. His demons wanted to rip his wrist out of socket again, maybe break all of his fingers one-by-one. Preferably with Christopher gagged and blindfolded so he couldn’t see the grin that Paul would have plastered on his face.

Paul shook off the thoughts and looked around at his wall. He took out the picture from his pocket and started drawing the cast that Christopher wore, with him blindfolded and gagged. Paul stashed it in a folder and threw it inside of his desk.

He was disgusted with himself, wondering why he would even consider doing such a thing… “Oh, I hate this…”

~~Christopher’s POV~~

Christopher threw his stuff on the floor in their designated spot, and flopped on his bed, allowing himself to bounce a few times before eventually deciding to lay on his side. He stared at the wall, his body shuddering as thoughts began to rush in. He remembered what Paul did to make him hurt… Christopher rubbed his wrist, still having phantom pains from so long ago. In 3rd grade, Paul had decided to break his wrist, causing him to cry in agony…

He tried his hardest not to cry now, but he had a loud knock on his bedroom door. “Honey… You have a visitor…” Christopher sat up, and his mom opened the door, a boy with dark brown hair and hazel eyes outside the room. Paul.

“No!” He picked up a pillow, and lifted it high above his head, about to chuck it. “Get him out of here!!! Do you have any idea what he’s put me through! Get him out of here! Now! Get out of here, Paul!” Christopher got up, glaring at him. He walked over, and as his mom backed off, he went to shove him, but Paul grabbed him slightly above the wrists, pulling him eerily close so that Paul’s arms were behind him, and Christopher’s were straight out. “Let go!”

“Christopher! Let him speak!” His mom looked at him, then at Paul.

“I-I… I want to… tell you that… I’m moving away soon… I-I know that… you don’t like me since I broke your wrist.” Paul let go of him, allowing Christopher to step back, but Christopher didn’t. He stared at him with confusion.

“A-are you… messing with me?” What… No… I-I… Christopher felt tears boil up. Why am I… why am I crying? I don’t… I don’t like him… So… why am I crying?

Christopher’s heart pounded in his ears, and he saw something in Paul’s eyes. He isn’t lying. “I promise that I’m not. I can’t really… lie to you. I-I li…” Paul shook his head and backed up. “I’m sorry, I need to go.” Without another word, he left.