Jaren's POV

"John stop!" I whine, knocking his shoulder when he tried to steal my pencil.

"Dude, I need to write down the answer too." He complains, sitting up on my bed.

"Yeah well, me first." I reply, continuing to write answers down as I go.

"You got question five wrong, dummy." John says, pointing to my mistake. "It's spelt s-u-p-p-r-e-s-s-i-o-n, not s-u-p-r-e-s-s-i-o-n." John correct me, causing me to scoff.

"Ok Mr. Great at spelling." I retort, making him laugh.

"Maybe I should write down the answers and you should copy them." John says, pulling the pencil from my grip.

John came over after school because he wanted to talk and do homework.

He told me that he told Cameron and the guys to give it up with me, and he told them that he was gonna hang with me.

He pretty much told them to go fuck themselves.

Two days of school and I've already drifted through two friend groups.

Now it's just me and John against the world.

But surprisingly, I feel safe.

When I'm with John, I feel my worries melt away and I feel my fear dissipate.

I feel at peace with myself, and I feel like I'm near someone who is able to understand me.

He can literally read my mind, it's kind of cool.

I still have my doubts though, but me and John have been talking about the two groups I've sort of hung out with.

"It all started freshmen year. We were all the popular kids, all in one big group. Cameron and Jonathan got into an argument one day, Jonathan kicked him out of the group." John says, twirling the pencil around his fingers.

"And everyone let him do that?" I ask, doubting that the whole friend group would abandon him like that.

"Toby hung out with him a lot, but he was still apart of the main group." John explains, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And then what happened?" I ask, leaning forwards on my elbows.

"Jonathan and Luke started fighting with some of the others, kicking people out weekly. Eventually Matt, Eric, Ezra, Toby And Mason were cast out." John replies, looking down at me.

"What about you and Griz?" I question, watching as he lets out a nervous chuckle.

"Well, at the time, Griz wasn't at our school. He came in Junior year. As for me, I was best friends with Tyler and Craig. Luke, Jonathan and I were cool." John says, smiling slightly at the memory.

He looks somewhat guilty at the moment.

"But then one night I got drunk. Me and Craig got into an argument and I beat the shit out of him. Tyler attacked me after that, and then two days later, I was out." John mumbles, rubbing his arm.

"But you were drunk." I state, not really understanding why they'd kick him out for a drunken fight.

"Yeah, but none of them were. They started calling me a bad guy, an alcoholic, a druggie. So I started acting like one." He replies, looking out my window. "I started sleeping around, going to parties, coming to school drunk or high, sometimes both." He adds, looking over at me.

"Is that why all of you like stringing new kids on?" I ask, not sure if I'm fully understanding everything.

"That's probably a big part of it. I sleep around with people because it's fun, I drink so that I can forget my issues and have a moments peace, and I get high because I like the feeling." He explains, sounding so sure of himself.

He's so broken.

"What do your parents say about all of this?" I question, doubting his parents would be that laid back.

I notice my mistake very quick.

He tenses up, and a look of pure disgust and anger shows up on his face.

He turns to me, and I doubt I'll ever forget what he said to me right then;

"My parents are one of the reasons I'm like this."

That hit me hard, brought back those memories and those feelings.

I visibly shivered at the thought of my parents, and I stared him dead in the eyes.

"Something we both have in common." I state, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Your parents seem pretty cool." John points out, leaning back on his hands.

"Those are my adoptive parents." I reply, looking up at him. He nods his head slowly, as if putting the pieces together in his head.

"What were your real parents like?" He asks in a quiet voice, watching me and reading my expressions.

"Disgusting human beings." I reply, looking away from him and trying not to relive those moments again.

Not two days in a row Jaren.

Come on.

"I hear you." He grumbles. "My dads an alcoholic twat who likes to beat me and my moms a whore." John hisses, and I see the fire in his eyes.

He hates them.

"He beats you?" I ask, putting all my thoughts onto his well being.

He lifts up his shirt and I wince at the sight.

A large purple bruise sits on his side, and the amount of scars littering his body remind me of my own.

"Why are you telling and showing me this?" I ask quietly, dropping my eyes to my bed.

"Because I trust you and I want you to trust me. We have the same sense of humour, we like the same vape juice, we both have inner demons that want to come out and rip us apart. We're more alike than we realise, and I want to have someone who knows what I've been through, who understands me." John rants, staring at me with furrowed brows.

I didn't realise that this is what I needed too. I need someone who understands the pain I've been through, or at least has a basic understanding.

I hate to say it, but kids get beat by their parents all the time. It's not uncommon.

But for some reason, I feel like his scars run deeper than that, I feel like his scars are similar to mine.

And that scares me, but it also makes me feel for him.

If he's been through something as bad as I have, then I can't shut him out and I can't be afraid to talk to him.

I can't turn my back on another broken toy.

"I'm going to trust you, John. If you make me regret this, I won't be very happy." I mumble, sitting up.

"I'm trying here, dude." John replies, leaning back against my pillows again.

"I can see that. Mind telling me more?" I ask, moving to lay down beside him, English book be damned.

"Alright, but I've gotta know something first." He replies, turning his head to stare at me.

"What?" I question, furrowing my brows together at the look of amusement on his face.

"Would you ever let me fuck you?" He asks, the tense mood shattering completely.

"Oh, sure." I reply, obviously being sarcastic.

"Great, say an hour from now?" He asks in an overly stereotypical gay voice as he wiggles his eyebrows at me.

I laugh slightly and shake my head.

"I can never take you seriously and I've known you for less than 24 hours." I state, staring up at my ceiling with a goofy grin.

"I have that effect on people." He replies, poking my cheek. "So, what do you want to know?" He asks, still gazing at me.

"Are you ok?" I mumble out, turning my head to look at him.

"Mentally? No. Physically? No. Emotionally? No." He replies, checking them off with his fingers.

I nod my head solemnly at that, glancing down at his covered torso and remembering the bruise there.

"How badz that?" I question, lifting his shirt up slightly.

"Probably a broken rib, but I'm fine." He says, laughing slightly at the face I pulled. "It happens quite often." He adds, smiling sadly.

Broken ribs do not feel nice. Trust me, I'd know.

"What's the worst thing he's done to you?" I ask, watching him to make sure this question doesn't make him upset or uncomfortable.

"I'd prefer not to answer that one." He mumbles, staring up at my ceiling.

"Understandable." I reply, staring up at the ceiling with him.

We sit in silence for a few minutes before his phone goes off.

"It's Cameron." He tells me, answering the phone after that. "Yeah, what's up? How bad? Shit, alright. Yeah, be there soon."

"What's wrong?" I ask, sitting up as he climbs off my bed.

"Apparently Marcel, Luke and Tyler jumped Mason and Eric. Eric's hurt pretty bad, Mason got punched a few times. I'm going to go find Luke and beat the shit out of him." John replies, that same fire in his eyes like from before.

"Wait, don't do that." I call out, standing up and grabbing his arm.

"That son of a bitch deserves it. I've let him off the past two times. Not a third." John grumbles, looking back at me.

I bite my tongue, not sure on what to do— do I defend Luke?

Do I let John go and beat up the principals son?

He'd get expelled for sure!

"Look, just think this through, ok? Don't beat him up, find evidence on all the bad shit they're doing and turn it into the school. Get them suspended, expelled, pulled from games— don't go and get yourself into trouble." I reason, tightening my grip on his arm.

"That's a pussy move though." John points out, turning to face me.

"But it's better than you getting expelled for beating up the principals son!" I hiss, letting go of his arm to cross mine over each other.

"Fine, but I'm still beating the shit out of Marcel and Tyler." He states.

I just sigh and nod my head at that.

"Just not at school." I grumble out. He nods his head and turns to the door again.

This time I let him leave and instead I turn to the mess on my bed.

I smile softly at the mess and clean it up, throwing the wrappers of our chocolates away and closing the homework book.

First two days and I've already got a shit ton of homework to do.

Stupid teachers and their stupid homework.

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