Break here was very different to the public school. Well it isn’t. A gathering of people surrounded me, lead by the kid which I now knew was called Clint. I stood up to face him.
“Do you have a thing for Natasha?” He asked. One thing just came to my head. I was new here. And so I said.
“Who is Natasha?” I asked. It was an innocent enough question.
“Who is- Who is Natasha?!” He asked. “Are you serious? She’s the cute red head who saved you from getting spit balled in class.”
“Oh. She was nice. Not really my type though.” I scratched my head. He then grabbed me by my collar and pinned me to the wall. He didn’t scare me. He wasn’t that strong.
“You have to be joking. She is everyones type. Unless you’re gay. Oh my God. You’re a gay fag aren’t you?”
“I’m not gay. I am taken though. I have a girlfriend. She’s called Pepper.” I said. He let go. I had just lied. I aren’t with Pepper. She’s just one of my best friends. He was right… I am gay. Not that I want these idiots to know though
“Let’s see this Pepper then.” He said. I pulled out my phone. Luckily, she was a good friend of mine so I had photos of her and me together. It was convincing for now. I would have to tell her later that we were fake dating though, and pray that she accepted it and stuck by me for this.
“Okay Clint, leave him alone now.” A male said. I turned my head to him. He was like a God. His hair was like gold. His eyes were like the ocean. And don’t get me started on his muscles. I knew I probably shouldn’t get mixed up with him. He probably had tonnes of ladies lining up ready to date him. He had to be a popular lad.
Behind him was another muscular man. He wasn’t as built as the blonde though. He had dark hair and dark eyes. He scared me, just a little bit.
“Alright, Steve.” Clint said. He walked away. I don’t understand school anymore.
The blond male came over to me. He took my hand and then checked me over for injuries. I stayed quiet.
“I don’t need your help” I said. I pulled my hand away from him.
“Really? Because you looked like you were about to get a beating.”
“I can handle a beating.” I said. Why was I pushing this man away? He was trying to help me.