I started to shiver just as the twilight was fading. “I have to go,” I told him. When I stood up I felt a spike of pain in my head. I sighed. All day I felt like I was going to break down into tears. I didn’t think I’d actually do it. I felt a little embarrassed about crying in front of him.

Well, that’s if he really is looking down on me - which I always prayed on.

I grabbed my backpack, watching as everything fell out and onto the hard snow. “Damn it.” I hissed, quickly getting my textbooks and notebooks before they could suffer any significant water damage. 

The winds of the winter evening were beginning to pick up. I got to my feet, carefully holding onto my broken backpack. “Goodbye, Lucas.” I waved and turned around to walk back up the stone path.

I got on the first bus that got to the stop. As usual, during the rush hour, it was packed to the brim. I squeezed passed a rather obese older man in order to get away from the doors which slide shut. The bus hissed as it started driving. Most of the patrons were dressed in work attire, though there was a ragged looking woman standing in the very corner of the bus with a screaming baby and two fighting children. The flow of people began to move in an effort to get away from the noise, pushing me further towards the back.

“Christ all mighty.” A very angry man complained, reaching his hands out to push me so he could get passed. I lost my footing and fell, smacking into the person beside me. And spilling all my shit again.

“Ugh. Sorry.” I got up and turned to help the person I’d knocked over, then I stopped. “Oh. You.”

He grinned at me. “Did you see Lucas?”

I glared at him, sensing the impending insinuated gay remarks. “I’m on the bus, Keith, I could have been anywhere.” I decided not to help him and just instead collected my schoolwork.

“What’s wrong with your bag?” He asked, sitting up to help me.

“Broke. Obviously.”

He handed me my textbook with an added frown on his face. “So… you didn't go to his grave?”

I glanced at him. “I went.”

“Is that why your eyes are red?”

I flinched and moved my hand to my face to block his view. “It’s cold out.”

He nodded. “Are you still upset about it? It’s been two or three years, right?”

“I’m still upset.”

He held onto one of my textbooks. “I never picked on him.”

I scoffed. We both knew he was lying. “That’s not why he killed himself.”

“But I never bullied him or anything.” He glanced to the left. "I mean... we fought but-"

“I don’t really care.” I reached for my book, but he pulled it away from me. “What?”

“Did you know he was gay?”

I didn’t answer him. “Give me back my book.”

“Was he gay? I reached for it again, but he reached his hand out to push me back. “I wanna know. Did you know?”

“Why? So you can slander him more? He’s already dead, can’t you stop?”

“But did you know.”

I snatched my book from him. “Back off.” I got to my feet and tried to leave, but the bus was too crowded. Instead, I did my best to ignore him, catching his eye in the reflection of the window.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” He said, suddenly. “I was just curious.”

“You didn't even like him, so why ask?”

“Because of me…” He paused. “I'd told him… Pete, did you really love him? What I mean is -”

“I don’t really feel like talking.” The pain in my head was only getting worse the longer he stood behind me. That wasn't even considering the annoying ping in my chest that seemed to grow again.

He sighed, finally backing off. “Okay. Sorry.”

I leaned against the window, watching as we once again passed by the amusement park. By now the lights of the bar were on and it was getting ready to open. I looked down at my phone for the time but noticed an unread text from my father.

Dad: I don’t give a shit what your mother said. Get your ass home. Now.

It was sent at three fifty-six. I’d ignored him for about two hours.

Very slowly the patrons of the bus began leaving. It only got silent when that mother with the three children was gone, though. Then came my stop.

“Getting off?” Keith asked, also moving for the exit.

“Yeah.” I kept walking and didn’t pay him much attention.

He walked further behind me on the streetlit walkway. I kept wondering why he was on that bus in the first place. It was usually the one I took home and I’d never seen him on it. Then he passed me. “See ya later.” He said and turned the corner.

I frowned. I made my way down one of the alleyways towards my neighborhood. Usually, Milwaukee got a bad rap, but it was mostly safe. As long as you knew where you were and where not to go, you’d survive a night in the city. Not that it was much of night so much as it was just winter in Wisconsin.

I turned down my alley and over three garages towards mine. I opened the back door, took my shoes off, and entered into the kitchen.

The counter had a few pizza boxes and about three different flavors of liter soda. The TV was blaring sound in the distance with my family laughing occasionally. Its times like these, when they’re doing things together without me, that I wonder. Would they be the same if I were dead? I wondered what Lucas’ mother was doing. How his little brother and sister were doing.

“What are you doing?” Natalie asked disgustedly.

I looked up at her. At some point, I’d sat against the wall in the kitchen. “Nothing.”

“Whatever.” She passed me for the counter. “Dad’s pissed off at you.”

“I went to see Lucas.”

“He’s dead.”

“I went to see his grave.”

She turned to me. “I know your friend died, but everyone at school is going to think you two really were gay for each other. Especially after that note.”

“So what if he was gay?”

“He had a crush on you.” She scoffed and nearly rejected her pizza with that thought. “You two had sleepovers, changed in the locker rooms together. If anything, you should be the one mad at him.” She paused. “Unless… that really doesn’t bother you?”

I got to my feet. “You’re kind of a bitch.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh my God. I bet you were in love with him, too. Bet it just kills you he thought you didn’t love him ba-” I didn’t think. My hand swung back all on its own and whipped her across her face.

She turned her head, eyes wide. And, honestly, so were mine.

Her hand went to the red mark swelling her cheek. “What the fuck!”

Before I had the chance to say anything in my defense, she lunged towards me. I smacked my face against the red tile of our kitchen floor. Instinctively I moved my arms up to defend my face. Meanwhile, she continued throwing punch after punch until her small hand slipped through and clocked me right in the nose. I pushed her off of me and she hit her head against one of the stools. My hand reached for my nose, feeling the thick, red liquid drip from my face.