Five

Walking into school the next day, I knew I was going to get an earful of Buddy. I did text him when I got home. I should have called, but after dinner, I was too tired to want to talk about what happened. I knew he was going to interrogate me when he saw me in person, making sure Devon didn't try anything inappropriate or hostile, so I texted him I was fine and told him everything before class.

Watching my peers stare at me seemed different today. I always was a sly comment away from being ostracized, but it seemed everyone stared at me in utter horror. I didn't do anything different to my face or attire. Same heavy eyelines. Same violet lipstick. Same black tee with black skinny jeans. I wore a scarlet cardigan to add some color, but I didn't think that was what scared everyone the most.

Then I heard the whispers. "I always knew she was a freak." "Hooking up with Devon." "She must get turned on whenever he beats up some random bystander." "Freaks of a flock fly together." Some comments were creative, I had to admit. Some were funny, and others were downright mean, but I never let their idiocy get to me. A few rumors over Devon would not scare anyone away. They'd just scare Buddy.

The moment he saw me approach his locker, he slammed it shut and ran up to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Please tell me you are alright!"

"I'm fine," I exclaimed, exhausted. "Nothing happened. He was a gentleman."

"Gentleman?" Darcy questioned. She used to be one of Buddy's admirers back when we were freshman. She joined the Clubhouse as a fellow musician, shredding guitar to the point where her audience waited on the edge of their seats for her to play the next chord. We grew close as musicians, so it never seemed like she liked me just because of Buddy.

Over summer break before sophomore year, she realized she was only attracted to Buddy because all the other girls liked him. The emotional connection she felt was completely platonic, and she only enjoyed hanging out with him because he treated her like a good friend. When the school year started, she crushed on a girl in our gym class. The girl moved away before she could figure out her feelings, but Darcy realized quickly that she was more interested in dating girls than boys.

It was a little rough for Buddy to hear the news, but only because he actually formed feelings for her. However, he remained Darcy's ally and helped her transition out of the closet and not get harassed by any homophobic bullies. That caused his admirers to fall for him all over again and prompted Darcy and I to roll our eyes on the sidelines.

"Yes, gentleman." Leaning against the lockers, I lolled my head to Darcy and showed off my hand. "He saw my bloody bandages and changed them for me."

"Gentleman," she smirked, and nodded.

"He changed your bandages? In his house?" Buddy slowly asked.

"Yes. I went in his house. He changed my bandages. I gave him his homework. I left for the Clubhouse. I drummed to my heart's content, and then I went home. Nothing out of the ordinary happened."

"He changed your bandages," he whispered as he stared at my hands.

"Ignore him. He's in shock," Darcy quipped. "Weren't you guys friends at one point?"

"Not really. The closest we ever got was being partnered up for group projects. He was as much a gentleman then as he was yesterday."

"It's so weird to know that we're using gentleman to describe Devon Quid."

I glared at her.

"I'm not saying he's not a gentleman or anything, but you've heard the rumors. You've seen the damage. Jett has a fake tooth now because of him. Gentlemen don't exactly have those sorts of things tied to their name."

"No, but Buddy is classified as a gentleman, and he's an idiot."

"Hey," he whined, finally focusing on us.

"Oh, look. He's back," I smirked. He smiled mockingly at me before reopening his locker to grab the books he forgot for his next class. "I know you were being a big ole worry wart for valid reasons, but you have to remember that I have valid reasons for believing he wouldn't try anything. I think he's just awkward and shy."

"Awkward and shy?" Buddy asked.

"How so?" Darcy questioned, leaning in close.

"You should have seen him yesterday. He was super sweet to his sister. Seems to be very protective of her. And he was actually happy to see me. He remembered me and was incredibly concerned about what happened to my hands. You should have seen his face when he thought Jeanie purposefully tried to hurt me." I snickered. "And let's not forget the fact that he knew what he did was wrong. He wasn't saying anything positive about what he did. I think he's scared to come back and be under all the scrutiny. He got by before just by intimidating people, but he never did anything unwarranted. Now he's punched the quarterback, and he knows all hell is going to break lose or whatever. He might not want to deal with that, and I find that to be completely understandable."

"So you don't think he should come back?"

"I think he should get an education. Whether it's from here or somewhere that helps him get his GED, he needs an education. It's the only way to get by in life."

"Look at you being all sweet towards him," she smirked. "Are you sure he's not your friend?"

"He's not."

"If he asked, would you be?"

"No offense, but why would he ask to be my friend?" I chortled. "I'm just the loser who gets paired up with him for every group project because he's as unpopular as me. I doubt he'd think of me as his friend. Friendly perhaps, but not an actual friend."

"I don't know," she smirked. "If he was happy to see you yesterday, I would think he would classify you as a friend."

"Perhaps. But I'm never going to see him again unless he comes back to school or Mrs. Bustier asks me to bring him his homework again."

"Would you do it?" Buddy suddenly asked.

"Two words: Extra. Credit." I patted his cheek as the warning bell rang. Darcy waved goodbye as she headed for her morning choir class, and Buddy and I dragged our feet to English.

"The next time the you have to go over there, I want to come with you."

"Why? Can't you trust my judgement?"

"I do trust you, but what if he's just playing nice because he has an ulterior motive?"

"You mean sex?" I deadpanned.

"You're incredibly attractive, Mel."

"To who?"

"I find you attractive."

"You might want to call a doctor. I think your eyes are broken," I teased. He didn't laugh. "Come on! It's a joke."

"It wasn't a funny one."

"You can't actually be that serious over a measly joke."

"I don't want you to put yourself down."

"I'm a self-depreciator. It's my one job in life."

"Mel-"

"Blah, blah."

He stood in front of me, blocking me from looking anywhere but into his eyes. "I mean it, Mel. You're incredibly attractive. Anyone with good judgement would agree. Devon would be a fool not to find you beautiful, but as your best friend, I have a reason to be concerned. He may want to do things to you, you wouldn't notice at first glance, and that's why I want to be there. I don't want him to hurt you so bad you never want to be with another person."

There was the passion I'd seen in him before. Buddy was passionate about a lot of things, many of them involving me. He was passionate about my wellbeing. Passionate about making sure I felt safe from ridicule in the halls. Passionate about supporting my dreams of becoming a famous drummer. He was a good man who cared.

But the passion in Buddy's eyes differed from the usual passions he had. His eyes were intense, beading down on me in a pleading glare. Begging for me to understand that he cared about me and didn't want to hear me drone on in negativity. Once you say it enough times, you believe it. He didn't want for me to believe anything negative about me. He only wanted me to see the positives he saw. But if I couldn't see the negatives, how else would the positives become so prominent?

"I understand." For peace of his own mind, I would let him come with me. It wasn't as though I had any intentions to go back there. Devon may have said he'd have his work done for me, but there was no way he'd get a month's worth of work done in twenty-four hours. Not unless he was a super genius. Even then, he could just turn in the work himself. If he was willing to get it all done, he'd have to be willing to go back to school.

But that day, he didn't come back.