TW: homophobia, f slur

Enjoy

John's POV

I ran out of the dorm, and into the building, stuffing the toast I grabbed into my mouth.

I jogged into the classroom, and sat down, sighing in relief as I made it just in time.

I looked around and saw a few students filing in the classroom, and caught sight of one student with sleek jet black hair swept to the side, one side of his head shaved.

His skin was pale, and his knuckles were pure white as he gripped his bag.

Charles fucking Lee.

I groaned softly, and turned to my desk, taking out some paper for notes.

Unfortunately for me, the black-haired bitch heard me, and waltzed on over to my desk, slamming his hands onto it.

Great, looks like I need some Clorox Wipes to wipe his disgusting germ-infested hands off.

"Looks like you didn't see the rules, faggot. No gay shits aloud in King's College." Lee snarled, his face twisted into a smug grin.

I scoffed, and looked away, tears pricking in my eyes.

I hated that word. Everyone but my family used it when they heard I was gay back home.

And he thought he had a right to start throwing that slur around like it was nothing.

I growled, and swallowed the lump in my throat, before firing back.

"But apparently this college still allows unnecessary ass-wipes in without a problem."

Lee's eyes widened, and he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, attempting to lift me up.

Since I was a tall ass, Lee only pulled me closer to him, his nose wrinkled in utter anger and disgust.

"Listen here, you useless excuse of space; snap back at me again, and your sexuality's not gonna be the only thing that'll be fucked up, bitch." Lee hissed loudly, tightening his grip on my shirt.

"Let him go, asshole."

I looked over Lee's shoulder to see a tall, well-built man with a dark skin tone walking over to us.

His hair was a giant black fluff, that looked like it was never combed. He wore white ripped skinny jeans, red checkered Vans, a grey shirt, with a black leather jacket, fabulous make-up, and amazingly sharp eyeliner that looked like it can stab a bitch.

He was a tall, attractive man, his eyes a cold amber glare, that was aimed directly at Lee.

I knew who this boy was immediately.

Thomas Jefferson; my old friend from South Carolina.

Thomas used to live in Virginia, but his family decided to move when he was 17. We both were nerds, and loved old video games. In senior year, he dropped the nerdy persona and became a sexy popular boy. He still was my friend through, and protected me from other asshole popular kids, as any friend should do.

Halfway through senior year, Thomas's family decided to head back to Virginia for a year, before going to live in France.

I hadn't seen him since high school; and yet here he was, standing up for me, like he did all those years ago.

Lee rolled his eyes, and pushed me back, releasing his grip on me.

I tumbled onto my desk, and sighed, sliding back into my seat.

"Enjoy you're gross gay life, wuss." Lee spat in my direction, and strutted off to a seat, smirking.

I sighed, and put my head into my hands, huffing with disappointment and anger.

"You okay? He's such an ass at you." Thomas growled, sitting beside me.

"I'm fine, thanks for standing up to him." I replied, smiling.

Thomas gave a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, yawning. "Don't mention it, Johnny."

"Knew you remembered me, Thom. It's been years since I last saw you."

"Same with you. I didn't know green looked so good on you."

I smiled, messing with the sleeve of my shirt, before grabbing my phone to exchange numbers with him, and added him to The Cult (TM).

"Welcome class, I'm your professor, Mr. Washington, and I'm here to teach you. Now, let's begin." A voice rumbled from the front of the class, and I looked over to see a bald man in a tie and blue polo with khakis standing in front of the class.

I smiled, and leaned back on my chair, smiling.

This is gonna be a good year.

A/N: I need to sleep goodnight fam