They hadn’t been late to the corner once. Not once, in the couple of months that they had been attending high school, had they found themself running to catch up with their group of friends, who had grown restless while waiting by the side of the gate for them and decided to head home. Today wasn’t an exception on the latter part, only the former, but they wished it was.

“Jey, where the fuck’ve you been?” Delicately-tongued as ever, the tallest of their friends began the questioning, as the other three shuffled and moved about to make room for them in their small circle of people. “You been jacking off in the toilets, or some shit like that? Smells like it, geez.”

“Can we go?” Exhaustion had grown in their bones like a disease, until they were unable to feel anything else - save a healthy amount of dread for the half hour walk home.

“You’re gonna want concealer on that, unless you want Denn chasing you down the corridor in the morning.” A gentler sound came from the girl to their left; her voice was as gentle as the tapping of her finely-manicured fingernails on their face, dancing across the reddened skin blossoming on their cheek. “Need to borrow some?”

“You been fighting or something? Without me?” The mock-hurt coated over his words couldn’t take away the undertone of concern, as he took a step forwards to inspect their face more closely. Huffing, they ducked away, covering the injured cheek with one hand. “Jey? Do I need to murder someone?”

“I just want to go home.” Keeping their voice to a monotone, they looked off down the street, their eyes stopping on the last few cars rushing past, occupied by late parents hurrying to collect their most probably annoyed and tired children from the dregs of the once-swarming crowd of kids left by the school gates.

“You’re shaking.” Her soft voice was accompanied by softer touches on their arm, even as they pulled away. “You won’t make it all the way to your house.”

“They can stop at mine.” He sounded so decided, as if he actually believed that they were going anywhere but home. If one more person tried to make them - or made them - do anything, they were actually going to hurt someone. “Can’t you, Jey? It’s only half the walk, so-”

“Not going to yours. Going home.”

Without another word - peculiar for him - the tallest swatted her curious fingers away from them and grabbed them by the arm, hauling them down the pavement with a death-stare sent behind them telling the group to disband and go home. Quickly realising that struggling was futile, they stared down at the concrete, watching each thin line between the flagstones and chewing the inside of their cheek to stop any errant emotion flooding their eyes. After a thousand inner turmoils over the near-spilling of said emotion, he finally let go of their arm, and they felt an inner self rounding on him and arguing over their treatment. Their outer self didn’t move an inch.

“Now, are you gonna cut the bullshit and tell me what’s going on?”