Tom's POV
The next morning, I moved quickly, paddling my bike through the streets and into the school parking lot. I kept the bike hidden in the bushes near the entrance, far away from Tyler's asshole eyes—just in case he decided to show his face early today. I slipped into the school building, shoulders tense, avoiding eye contact with anyone. My routine was simple: head straight to my locker, shove my bag inside, and grab my small gym bag. No fuss. No interactions. Just quick and quiet.
I made my way to the guys' changing room, slipping into a quiet corner where I could change without drawing attention. I moved fast, yanking off my hoodie and pulling on my gym clothes, trying to avoid any unnecessary bullshit from the other guys. Most of them—hell, all of them—were assholes to me, especially Tyler. But not all of the guys were like that. I knew that much. Still, I didn't bother trying to get along with most of them. The ones I didn't know? They looked at me the same way Tyler did—like I was worth less. And I didn't really care enough to find out if they were assholes or not. I wasn't interested in wasting my time trying to figure out who was decent and who wasn't.
Most of the time, I kept to myself, avoiding the drama and bullshit. It was easier that way—less headache. Less bullshit to deal with. I didn't have the patience or the energy for any of it.
Gym class, first period. Who the hell was the deranged lunatic who decided PE was part of the school curriculum? Honestly, it's just a bunch of people sweating their asses off for some stupid grade. How the fuck does that prepare me for the outside world? Dodgeball? Really? How does dodging balls help me deal with real life?
I left the locker room and went straight to the school gym, my mind already annoyed at the stupidity of it all. Who's the maniac at school who decided that gym class should be first thing in the morning? Now, all the jocks are probably walking around smelling like a fucking locker room, because gym is the only class they take seriously.
And of course, they don't give a shit about anyone else. They just want to show off, get sweaty, and act like they're the shit. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to get through it, wishing I was anywhere else but stuck in this pointless routine.
I sank onto the bench, realizing I was early—surprisingly early for once. I started slipping on my sneakers, relaxing into the seat as I took a moment to breathe. Fuck, I hate this school. I hated the pointless routines, the bullshit every day threw at me, and this stupid class right now was just another reminder of how much I wanted to be anywhere else.
Suddenly, I felt someone sit beside me. I glanced over, noticing a pair of legs and a shoe being placed down as the guy prepared to put his own sneakers on. I looked at him, but I didn't recognize his face or his voice. Honestly, I couldn't seriously expect myself to recognize the voice of every guy at Millwood High.
But then again, he was in my gym class. I should know him. I should remember who he was. Still, I hadn't looked up yet, just kept tying my shoes, pretending I didn't notice him. "Hi," he greeted casually. I hesitated, then responded quietly, "Hello," as I continued to tie my laces, pretending to be focused on that. "I'm Luke. I just transferred here," he said, his voice a little hesitant but friendly enough. I finally looked up to meet his gaze. He was new—definitely one of those guys who hadn't met most of the school yet. That explained why he was sitting here, trying to make small talk. "I'm Tom," I replied, giving a short nod.
We sat in awkward silence for a moment—neither of us quite sure what to say next. Then, he broke it, voice awkward but sincere: "Tom, would you mind showing me around the school after gym class?" It was obvious he was trying to put his pride aside, asking for help in a way that was almost embarrassing for him. I hesitated for a beat, then shrugged. "Alright," I said simply, not really expecting anything else.