*Troye's POV*

I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating solely on the serenity of the silent moment. I wasn't sure if I'd get another moment of peace until the final bell rang, so I figured I'd better take advantage of it. Outside there were already people flooding everywhere, which sort of ruined my plan to get here early before the crowds got out of hand. By the looks of it my only other option was to be late, seeing as there was no way I was stepping foot in a gym full of the entire school. So instead, here I was, sitting in my car looking like I was having a panic attack as I waited for the time to pass. I had gotten the odd weird glance from passerby's but I tried to ignore it. I was doing a pretty good job too, until I heard a loud knock on the glass of my window. I furrowed my brow, opening my eyes curiously. I groaned aloud seeing Mrs. Smith standing outside, glaring in at me with her beady eyes. Great. 

"Please tell me you aren't intending to skip classes on the first day of school young man." I hadn't even bothered to roll down my window and I could still hear her obnoxiously loud voice clearly. I sighed, rolling it down a crack to reply.

"No, I'm just getting my thoughts together. I'll head inside in a moment." I said, giving her a curtly nod. She didn't seem convinced though, leaning forward to examine the entire car wordlessly. She didn't move, just her dark, nearly black, eyes. She was almost scary looking, like some sort of gargoyle vulture.

"You're not doing anything drug related, are you? You look a little out of it." She observed, curling her lip up in distaste. I discreetly rolled my eyes, just wishing she would leave me alone. So much for enjoying the calm before the storm. I flickered my eyes back to her, narrowing them slightly. 

"No, ma'am. I assure you I'm completely into it." I snapped, flashing a toothy smile. It wasn't like me to be so sassy or even really talk to people if I could avoid it, but the stress was beginning to get to my head. She clicked her tongue once, reaching into her pocket and grabbing a slip of paper. My heart dropped.

"You can look forward to detention after school, where I'm sure you'll have lots of time to get your thoughts together." She handed me the small note and I snatched it from her hands quietly, accepting defeat. That was about the second any and all of my hopes for a good day flooded out of my system. Just what I wanted, to tack on yet another hour to the time I had to spend in peril. Hopefully not many kids were stupid enough to get themselves stuck with detention on the first day. 

I looked up from the piece of paper, annoyed to see she was still standing there with a smug look on her face. I was about to make another short-tempered comment that would surely only lengthen the amount of time I had to spend in this horrible place, when a loud interruption saved me from myself.

"Watch out!" Someone screamed, their voice so high it felt like daggers piercing my ears. I careened my neck forward, trying to get a glimpse of what the hell was going on outside. Just as I seen the mop of brown hair charging Mrs. Smith let out a loud cry of shock. My eyebrows quirked, confused for a moment before realizing a goat had just headbutted her behind. What even is my life at this point? 

"Mrs. Smith! Are you alright?" A woman cried, likely the same one who'd shouted the warning considering her voice was the familiar high-pitched squeal. Mrs. Smith's face was completely horrified and I couldn't help but think detention was worth it just to see her like this. I watched as the other woman lunged, throwing her arms around the goat's neck before he could run off to wreak any more havoc. It let out a chorus of baa's before settling down, just glaring at her menacingly. My eyes slowly trailed back to Mrs. Smith, actually feeling a little guilty now, seeing that her expression still hadn't changed.

"Are you okay?" I asked, genuinely concerned. When she still didn't reply I opened the door, careful to keep it from hitting her, and hovered next to her worriedly.

"Should I go get help?" The woman holding the goat looked about as confused as I felt about the whole situation. Why was a fucking goat here at all? I glared at it angrily like it would just disappear. I then turned back to Mrs. Smith though, studying her eyes. I bit my lip, deciding talking to her obviously wasn't going to help if it hadn't already. I didn't know what else to try though, instinctively reaching out to grab her hand. A lot of things happened all at once. She snapped back to reality, slapping me, and a wave of thoughts flew through her mind. And, well, subsequently, my mind.

I hate this God forsaken place, stupid little brats. I just want this day to be over and to go home.

Home. It hardly feels like home without Henry there to welcome me back.

Why the hell is this kid staring at me like that? I swear he's on some sort of drug.

"Who's-" I cut myself off, my eyes going wide as I realized what I'd nearly done. I was about to ask her who Henry was. I was about to break rule number one in my book of survival. I'd only ever done that once before, and I'd regretted it every day of my life since. I shoved my hands in my pockets, warding off actual tears as my eyes lowered to the pavement.

"Well? What are you waiting for? You have a schedule to collect. Get going!" She said suddenly, swatting at me like I was some kind of annoying pest and not a human being. I gave a weak smile to the girl with the goat, turning on my heel and walking to the school. It amazed me that I hadn't even realized it was raining in the heat of the moment. I was soaked through to the bone now, but I didn't care. I had both a literal and metaphorical rain cloud looming over me as I headed toward the school, my thoughts in a completely different place.

"I just don't understand why! Why would you do this to me? I thought we were friends!" There were tears welling up in her big blue eyes despite her obvious efforts to keep from crying. She was blinking rapidly, her small hand coming up to wipe the saltwater off her cheek. Suddenly her expression sharpened, her eyes turning dark as they fixed on my face. "I hate you, Troye Sivan. I hope your stupid disorder ruins your life as much as it has mine. I hope you look back on today and hate yourself for it the rest of your life, freak!" 

I stumbled through the doors, desperately searching out the closest rest room. The halls were near empty, aside from a few stoners who thought it was funny to slack of from the very beginning of the school year. I knew that a few tears had escaped now, resting on my cheekbones. Thankfully, I was pretty sure the stoners were too out of it to truly care about or understand anything. My eyes lit up, seeing the familiar door adorned with a black stick-man. I charged into it and then into the last stall, crawling up to sit on the back part of the toilet. This wasn't exactly a new task, there were lots of times the atmosphere got to be too much for me and I ran off to hide in a stall like this. I wasn't always crying, I tried to avoid that at all costs to keep from people questioning my red eyes, but it was a little late for that now. I sniffled quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone who happened to actually be in the washroom to use it. Wouldn't want to make them uncomfortable or anything.

"Is someone crying in there?" I tensed up, flattening my back against the cold wall like I could turn invisible. The voice didn't sound judgmental though, and if I was going to be really hopeful I might even say they sounded concerned for me. 

"Yeah, probably just some pussy. Hey loser, quiet it down in there unless you want to add a swirlie to your list of things to cry about!" I jumped when he pounded harshly on the door of the stall, my heart rate increasingly drastically. God, wasn't this shaping up to be a lovely day? I did quiet myself though, biting down on my tongue harshly to keep from making any further noise. No noise came from outside of the stall now either though, worrying me. I wasn't leaving until I was certain they had. I didn't want them to be able to put a face on that crybaby in the last stall, I'd never hear the end of it. 

I was doing a pretty good job of silently trying to wait them out when the bell alerting me that first class had started rang out. I panicked, collecting my bag from the floor. Damn it! I still had to get my schedule before heading to class! I hopped down, unlocking and pushing open the door. I was relieved to find the room was empty, but also confused how they'd snuck out without me realizing. I walked over to the mirror, grimacing at my appearance. I looked utterly horrible between the soaked clothes and red puffy eyes. I turned to leave, before my eyes fell on the boy standing in the corner of the room watching me. 

"What do you want?" I asked harshly, cursing myself for being so blunt. I didn't really mesh with people well if you can't tell yet. The boys lips twitched, the corner turning up into a warm smile.

"Sorry, I just thought you might need a friend. I was here earlier, when you were crying."

"So you're the one that called me a pussy?" I asked warily, sizing him up with my eyes. He didn't seem that scary, I could take him if I had to. I crossed my arms, leaning back against the counter of the sink. I tried my best to seem confident, though that was pretty hard considering he'd overheard me crying like a bitch only moments ago.

"No! No, that was Caspar, sorry about him. He can be a bit... much." His eyes fell to the floor guiltily, as if he was ashamed of his friend's behavior. I sighed, deciding I could be a little bit more friendly toward him. Obviously he felt bad about the situation, and really all he was trying to do was reach a hand out to me. I'd never take it of course, but I could reject it politely at the very least. 

"I'll say. Where did he go?" I ask cautiously, subtly scanning to make sure none of the stalls were occupied. I really couldn't understand why I hadn't heard him leave, but maybe I'd zoned out again and missed the door closing. 

"He took off to find his popular friends. I'm always his second choice when they're around."

"Believe me, I know what that feels like." I mumbled, hoping he wouldn't ask me to elaborate. He didn't, thankfully, but he didn't reply either. A silence encompassed the room for a while, neither of us daring to look up from the tiled floor. Eventually the silence got to be too much and I was about to bluntly excuse myself, when his voice rang out again.

"I'm Alfie, by the way." He said, stepping toward me and outstretching a hand. I gave a weak smile, just nodding instead of taking it. Who knew it was more than a metaphor when I said I wouldn't take the hand he reached out to me. He chuckled awkwardly, wiping his sweaty palm on his jeans. So he was nervous. I wonder why. 

"Troye." I blurted suddenly, realizing I hadn't replied yet. He smiled happily, showing his big white teeth. 

"Okay, cool!" He said hurriedly, nervously fumbling with the hem of his shirt. Here comes the awkward part. Of course he was going to address my crying, I didn't have to be a mindreader to realize that. "Are you okay? I mean, if there's anything I can do to help then-"

"There's not." I interjected, straightening up gruffly. He looked a little hurt at first, though his cheery persona quickly returned. He swung his backpack off his shoulder, hugging it to his chest for a second as if he was still debating what to say next.

"Do you want to borrow a shirt?" He asked, giving a hopeful smile. God, did he ever stop smiling? I looked down to my chest, frowning at the way my already tight shirt had become nothing more than a skin-hugging drenched piece of fabric. This definitely wasn't going to be comfortable for the rest of the day and I doubted people would enjoy seeing the outline of my nipples. I sighed, realizing that only left me with two choices; look and feel like an idiot all day or actually accept his offer to help me.

"What's it look like?" I said finally, not showing any excitement in my voice. 

"Picky, are we?" He teased, rummaging around in the bag eagerly. A moment later he retrieved a dark blue shirt, holding it up for me to study. It was going to be big on me, that much was obvious even before he'd held it out. He was twice the size of me. Thankfully it looked like it was skintight on him, so it'd only be slightly baggy on me. 

"Fine." I decided aloud, after another few second of pondering. He held it out further and I grabbed it, balling it up in my hands. We just stared each other down for a moment before I let out an exasperated huff, deciding a thank-you was in order. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome, Troye. I really should get to class though, but we should talk again sometime! See you at lunch maybe?" He said hopefully, tilting his head to the side as he awaited my answer. He reminded me a lot of a dog, in the sense nothing you said or did could deter him, he just kept coming back. Loyal, I guess was the word for that. It'd been a long time since I met a loyal person though, so naturally it was hard to believe it. 

"Maybe." I answered meekly, knowing damn well there was no chance at all of him seeing me. I never ate my lunch in the cafeteria, ever. Too many people, gross food, and I never had any idea where to sit considering I had no friends. Instead I opted to eat basically anywhere else, including bleachers, my car, the bathroom, the stairwell, and down the street at the high-quality pizza place. I liked to switch things up, especially if I went to one place first and seen there were already other people there. God forbid I ever try to mingle. 

Thankfully he didn't see through my weak reply, just giving one final bright smile before turning and heading toward the door. As soon as it clicked shut behind him I let out a sigh of relief, glad to be in my own company yet again. I wasted no time yanking my shirt up, trying to free myself of it. That proved to be not as easy as I planned. It had been tight on me before, now it was constricting. I tugged restlessly, smacking my hip off the counter.

"Fuck." I cursed, managing to finally free myself. That had been a process. I tossed it to the floor, bending over to retrieve the replacement shirt. I snatched it off the floor, but not before my eyes noticed a pair of shoes a few feet away. I froze, my heart racing in my chest. Please don't let it be Caspar. Please don't let it be Caspar. I wanted to straighten up and address whoever it was, but I was frozen in spot. 

"Do you have shirt mishaps every day or is this just a coincidence?" My eyes went wide and I immediately stood up straight, my eyes locking with the same boy from yesterday. He was leaning against the wall slightly, his feet turned in like some sort of penguin or something. My eyes trailed up to his face then, an overwhelming wave of relief seeing he had a huge smile painted on his features. Okay, so I guess he wasn't here to make fun of me. He had every reason to though. He could snap a picture of me right now and the whole school would have it in a minute. Wasn't this Tyler Oakley? Didn't he live off of other people's embarrassment? 

He quirked an eyebrow, bringing me back to Earth with the simple movement. I had been standing there gaping at him for likely a minute now. I felt the blush creeping across my entire body, just now remembering half of it was still exposed. I scrambled to pull the shirt over my head, glad it was baggy and easy to get into. I looked up afterward, surprised to see him still standing there staring.

"Can I help you?"

"Probably not."

"Then piss off." I immediately regretted it when I seen him wince, like my harsh words had genuinely affected him. Surely that couldn't be the case though, he was the most popular guy in school. He said way worse things to people on a daily basis, it'd only be hypocritical of him to get upset when people gave him the same treatment back. Still, I felt the overwhelming urge to apologize and fix things. I never felt that way. I didn't regret ruining potential relationships, eventually they were going to do it anyway. 

"Sorry, I've just been having a stressful first day. Detention slips and rabid goats are not a good mixture." Was I trying to be funny? Oh no, what am I doing? Why did  I speak any more at all? He let out a bubbly giggle though, crushing my regrets easily, running his hand through his hair casually. 

"I can see where that could go sour, yeah." He chuckled quietly at the end, giving an adorable dimpled grin. I gave one back, though I had a feeling it was a lot more awkward than his. That's where things really got awkward. Neither of us spoke, instead just opting to stand there staring blankly at each other. It was times like these I really wished I had a better handle on the mind-reading. I cursed myself silently for even thinking of it in a positive light at all. People aren't supposed to be able to peek into other people's minds. It's unnatural. If I wanted to know what he was thinking I should have to figure it out the old-fashioned way, by asking. But like hell I was ever going to muster the courage to do that. 

"Okay, well, I do have a class to get to. I don't really fancy the idea of being scolded twice in the first hour of my first day back." I mumbled, gathering my belongings off the floor. He nodded as I stood back up, walking across the room to look in the mirror and play with his hair absentmindedly. I couldn't help but smirk a little. He may not be living up to his fearful bully reputation, but he did a pretty good job living up to his vain one. 

"Understandable. See ya." He mumbled, concentrating on a rogue piece of hair that wanted to lay flat on his forehead. I felt a sudden urge to offer him the can of hairspray I had in my bag, though that idea was shot down as soon as it sparked. Like Tyler Oakley would want to use my hairspray.

I turned around, dragging my feet slightly as I headed for the door. Why did I feel so reluctant to leave? Maybe because I'd had more positive interactions in this bathroom in the last twenty minutes than during the last ten years of my life? That's actually insanely sad of me. I gripped the door handle forlornly, before one final conversation idea sparked in my mind. I turned around, a bit disappointed to see he was still looking in the mirror instead of watching me leave. Priorities, I guess.

"Don't... Don't you have class?" I stuttered, suddenly remembering once again just how irrelevant I was to him. Of course he wasn't watching me leave. Ugh, why did that bother me so much to begin with?

"Yeah." He said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he turned back to me. He hopped up on the counter, angling away from the spilled soap as if instinctively. He was good. 

"Then what are you doing?" I asked blatantly, my feet stepping toward him as if they had a mind of their own. I didn't stop until I was standing right beside him, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. What the hell had gotten into me? Both trying to carry on a conversation and purposely ignoring my 'three feet away from people at all times' rule? 

He leaned forward suddenly, a hint of mirth in his eyes. He moved dangerously close to my face, raising a single finger over his lips as if to say 'hush, hush'. 

"Skipping." He whispered, gasping afterward like it was the most scandalous thing he'd ever said. I rolled my eyes at his obvious sarcasm, though I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. So he really was no better than the rest of the football goons, looking at school as a game instead of an actual place to learn. I knew I should drop it at that and leave, but for some reason I wanted to press further. 

"The first class of the first day? Are you stupid?" I accused, locking eyes with him. His widened considerably, caught off guard by my forwardness. He sat up straight again, regaining his composure and his usual pokerface.

"No, actually, I have a 98% grade average... I just don't like Mrs. Smith." He mumbled the last sentence, his eyes darkening with anger. I couldn't help it when a laugh escaped my throat at this. I could definitely relate. He cocked his head to the side, obviously confused by his ability to make me laugh but happy about it.

"Equally as understandable." I said, flashing a toothy smile. He furrowed his brow in reaction though, obviously thinking about something. I glanced toward the clock hanging on the wall sadly, knowing my time with him was running short. I didn't know what was up with him right now, but I knew I'd never get the chance to talk with him so freely again. The second his friends were in the room I was nothing more than a face in the sea of irrelevants. 

"I meant to ask yesterday! What's your name?" I looked up at him quizzically, my eyebrows knitting together. He wanted to know my name? He cared?

"Troye, with an e." 

"I'm Tyler." He replied cheerily, extending a hand to me. Since when do people actually shake hands? Great, now I have to think of some semi-normal excuse not to accept it. Though the longer I spent trying to think of a reason not to, the more I wanted to. Would it really be such a bad thing to get one little sneak-peek? I wasn't good with people, I needed this. Besides, maybe that was all it'd take for my weird little obsession to subside and I'd be back to my normal hating-everyone self. I focused my eyes on his hand again, taking a deep breath before my self-discipline plummeted. 

"I know." I mumbled, just before the familiar zing shot up my arm.

Troye, with an e. That's so cute, I've got to remember that. 

Okay, so it hadn't been nearly as juicy or insightful as I'd secretly been hoping for, but a thought of Tyler Oakley's was a thought of Tyler Oakley's. This was the first time in my life I remembered purposely reading someone's mind. I'd never done it with even my family. I hated my ability. It was a curse, not a gift. Though it was suddenly a lot easier to appreciate when it meant getting to know Tyler easier. 

"You should go to class, don't let me be the one to corrupt you." I sighed, knowing he was right. But I still couldn't bring myself to move, my feet suddenly regaining that mind of their own. I had to go though, or there would definitely be a call to my parents. Maybe they didn't bother Tyler's, but everyone in town was friends with at least one member of my family, they would definitely feel the need to tell them their family member was skipping class. 

"Yeah, alright. Bye." I mumbled, sounding a lot more disappointed than I'd planned. I turned to leave, but not before an unexpected thought popped into my mind.

Damn it, I should have asked him to skip with me. What else am I supposed to do for the next half an hour? 

And with that I suddenly felt very content with our exchange. I wasn't sure if it meant anything to him, but I was quite proud of it. Maybe it was only a one time thing because he had nothing better to do, but for just a little while, the most popular guy in school had wanted to talk to me. Me. Troye Mellet. The name that I'd only ever had to tell teachers because no students cared enough to ask. He cared enough to ask. I walked out into the hallway with a dubious smile on my face, only to be grabbed by the collar of my shirt.

"Well, well, well, are you the crybaby from earlier? Guess what? I just got sent to the principal's office, and I really want to take my anger out on someone. You don't mind, do you?" My blood ran cold as I slowly looked up at Caspar. I felt weak, almost like I was about to pass out. He was so tall and so intimidating. I felt my hands shaking nervously at my sides, trying desperately to think of a way out of this situation. 

And as if on cue, my way walked out of the bathroom with a comb in his hands. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he seen us, jumping forward to shove Caspar. I dropped to the ground happily, immediately looking around in a panic. Where do I run to? I decided on the left, considering that meant not darting around Caspar. I started speed-walking down the hallway, glancing over my shoulder only to catch a glimpse of Tyler tugging Caspar back into the bathroom by the scruff of his shirt. I felt a surge of pride suddenly, so powerful I stopped walking. 

He stood up for me.

Why?

A/n: I was iffy about having so much Troyler interaction so soon into the book, but my lovely reviewer, Emmy, has assured me it's fine so I'm hoping you all agree. Don't worry, I'm not going to rush their actual relationship. Troye is a piece of work, as he said so himself, it's gonna take a while before THAT aspect appears. (Though it'll be totally worth it I promise) (Funfact: I was brainstorming ahead and imagining all the ways mindreading could incorporate into smut and I am more excited than I should be) 
OKAY COMMENT AND VOTE :) :) TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF THE TROYLER INTERACTION LEVELS. TOO MUCH? TOO LITTLE?