25 | No One Would Riot for Less

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"Wake, Baby, wake but leave that blanket around you there is no where as safe" - No One Would Riot for Less

"Does that hurt?" Ethan questioned, pressing a finger into my arm.

I hissed sharply, pulling away from his touch. "Is the sky blue?" I snapped, giving him my worst glare.

Ethan's face turned thoughtful. "You know, actually it's not. We only think-"

I shoved him away with my uninjured arm, giving him a pointed look. Ethan chuckled and held up his hands in surrender.

"I'm just trying to educate you on something that I actually know about. Unlike this. I have no idea what I'm doing. You should really go to the hospital." Ethan sighed, mostly to himself, as he wrapped my shoulder tight with gauze.

I gripped his hand tight in my hand, making him meet my gaze.

"I'm sure you know what you're doing precisely," I assured him, without an ounce of doubt in me. "Besides I hate the hospital, and I refuse to go back there."

My faith in Ethan's abilities as a medical professional wasn't that strong; he was a bigger fan of numbers than science. It was more about me not wanting to return to the land of sharp needles and the choking smell of antiseptic. I'd even let Chris patch me up himself before considering to go back there.

The look in Ethan's eye told me he didn't believe it either, but he went back to his work. When he finished with my shoulder, he stepped back with calculating eyes.

"You're lucky he didn't break it because, through hell or high water, I would've gotten you to that hospital. Your shirt hides the gauze. I'll come and change it after school every day. As for the bruises..." Ethan trailed off, walking over to the bathroom cabinet. He came back a few moments later with a jar of concealer.

I rose an eyebrow at him while he rubbed the makeup into my forearm.

"Ethan, why do you have concealer?" I asked slowly and then watched his face explode a telling shade of red.

"It's my moms." He muttered dismissively without looking up from my arm. I took another glance around the disorderly bathroom and then looked back down at him.

"Your mom keeps her makeup in your bathroom?" I asked with disbelief clear in my tone, so Ethan knew I wasn't buying it.

Ethan groaned quietly and pulled away from me to lean against the counter. He kept his gaze straight on the wall in front of us, refusing to look anywhere in my direction. There was silence as his leg nervously jittered in place.

"You can't tell anyone. Really. Not even Sophia." He insisted with a pleading look in his eyes. There wasn't an ounce of joking in his tone. He sounded like telling me this secret would be the same as committing espionage.

"If there's one thing I'm good at, it's keeping a secret from Sophia." I joked, but then sobered my expression. "I can tell this is important to you Ethan. I'm not going to say anything Ethan."

He took his lip between his teeth and began rolling it back and forth. The abuse continued until he took a deep inhale.

"I'm gay. I've known I am for a while. Years in fact." He began hesitantly, glancing over at me. I did my best to keep my face neutral so that it wouldn't mimic the explosion of emotions going on in my head right now.

Ethan looked as if he still had more to say, so I stayed quiet.

"And I've been seeing this guy Wyatt for a while. Sometimes he leaves hickeys because he thinks he's funny so I have to cover them up with makeup." He admitted, his confession turning into an embarrassed flurry of words towards the end.

My initial response to the new information was to frown; if Ethan has a boyfriend, my plan to get him and Drake together has to be put on hold. But given the fact that Ethan had just bared his soul to me and came out, frowning didn't seem like the best idea.

"And I know that I should tell my brother and Drake, but I just haven't-"

"No," I spoke up before he could devolve into a ramble. "You're not obligated to tell anyone that. Tell them when you're ready. Don't force yourself to do something you don't want to."

Ethan turned to me with a grateful smile and bumped out shoulders together gently.

"But I expect to meet this boyfriend soon," I teased and then watched him conquer the impossible by becoming even more flustered.

"Well, you see here. Wyatt isn't actually my boyfriend. We kind of just..." He trailed off suggestively with a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

My mouth fell into a surprised 'O' shape before curving itself into a smirk. All of the secrets falling out of Ethan today may just be too much for my most likely concussed brain to handle. I

I opened my mouth to pursue further explanation, but Ethan waved me off before I could even begin.

"I've revealed enough life-changing secrets for the day. Let's get back to focusing on you." Ethan dismissed, turning back to me with the jar in his hands.

He worked his way down my arm, making sure that the makeup wasn't coated on so thick it looked fake. Eventually, he reached my forearm not only where the bruising was worst, but the layers of healed over cuts had created a mountain range of ragged scars.

Ethan's hands stilled there. His thumb ghosted over the area, and his calculating eyes told me that, for once, he didn't know what to do next.

"Does Sophia know?" He finally asked, his eyes not meeting mine.

My eyebrows scrunched up at the question. It was a random thing to ask. The answer to the question was easy; no. No matter who's name replaced Sophia's, the answer would still be no. But it was discombobulatingly puzzling that he asked about Sophia before my brother or parents.

"These are old scars, Avery." He explained in a whisper. "And I'm sure that the bullying was one of the reasons why, but Sophia played a part too didn't she? You hurt yourself because you felt guilty for liking her? Because you thought you weren't good enough?"

Then I was speechless for another reason. Because there wasn't a word wrong with what Ethan said. There was the creeping feeling of exposure and vulnerability. Could the whole world see my years of trauma and deepest insecurities that clear on my face?

The fact that everyone at school could see the damage somehow made it worst. The teachers and faculty, could all see me literally fighting for my life, yet they never did anything about it. They were just as bad as the people who watched me limp down the hallway and Chris' friends that held me against the lockers.

The angrier I became, the more every bystander looked just like Chris.

Ethan's hand squeezed mine. Not painfully, but as if he were pulling me away from the store that was forming inside my skull. It made me look up at him, and somehow remind me who I was talking to.

Ethan was the wallflower of the group. You wouldn't know by just looking at us because he was also the person to laugh the loudest and be the second most dramatic (behind his lovely twin brother). But Ethan never offered anything about himself. His jokes were never about him. They were always the funniest though because Ethan spent so much time observing that person, that the jokes were never anything but spot on.

So the swirling tornado I had formed stilled because I realized it was only Ethan. Only he could read me that way, and the rest of the world was still oblivious to the fact that I've been pounded into lockers too many times to count. And that shouldn't have been comforting, but the realization fell over me like a blanket.

"You should tell her. She'd want to know." Ethan spoke with a comforting smile, before working to cover my scars.

As good as Ethan's advice was, I feel like this secret is the least of Sophia's problems.

"All done," Ethan concluded, taking a step back to admire his work. "Now all we have to do is figure out what to tell Sophia when she asks why you left school early."

A low groan rumbled in my throat. "Don't remind me. Why don't we just ask Seth? I'm sure he's a better liar than the both of us combined." I suggested in a dramatic sigh.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Seth will probably end up getting offended, no matter how right you are." Ethan shot down after chuckling to himself. "What about telling her you had a doctor's appointment."

I shook my head. "Zach would've picked me up for that, so that wouldn't explain how I ended up here," I explained with a pout, and then watched Ethan's pointer finger tap on his chin.

"What's wrong with just telling her that you didn't feel well. It's definitely not a lie, and she won't think twice about Seth looking for an excuse to leave school." Ethan offered.

I gave him a dull look but vocally made no move to argue with him. Keeping the lies to Sophia at a minimum was the goal, and I won't even have to fake not feeling well; I can barely move. "I don't feel well" was definitely the lamest excuse in the book, especially coming from a master liar, and I made sure my eyes told Ethan just that.

Nevertheless, 30 minutes later Seth was caught up on the plan, and Ethan had triple and quadruple checked that there wasn't a bruise in sight. Turns out that Seth was offended that he didn't get asked for help on the lie, so Ethan and I were doomed from the beginning.

There was still the problem that Sophia may see me not feeling well as a reason to take me to the hospital, which was the absolute last thing that I wanted to do. Ethan and I decided to tell her that I had a headache. Not even Sophia was crazy enough to take someone to the hospital for something like that. Depending on the day anyway.

There was also the fact that if Sophia so much as hugged me the wrong way, I'd be screaming in pain. We tried to remedy the problem, by putting me at the end of the couch and stacking every throw pillow in the house on my other side.

It all seemed pretty useless to me. Sophia gets what she wants, and no amount of throw pillows is going to stand in her way.

"Don't mess this up, Avery. If you get in trouble, then we all get in trouble." Seth threatened, mostly in fear as we watched Drake's car pull into the driveway.

If anything Seth is the one who's going to give us away. The way the sweat is beading off his forehead and his uncharacteristic jittering was going to tell her everything as soon as she opened the door.

"Seth, why don't you go wait in the kitchen?" I suggested gently from my spot on the couch. Ethan hurried over to his brother and pulled him in the direction of the hallway as he muttered something about his final will. Seconds later Sophia came bursting through the door.

"Avery!" She bellowed, her head whipping back and forth to search the room.

"Right here, Sophia," I answered. "No need to wake up the entire neighborhood."

Sophia glared at me at first, but it didn't take long for it to melt into relief. She hurried over to me and threw her arms around me, followed by her entire body.

Blinding pain flashed through me, and a forceful grunt punched its way through my body. Luckily Sophia thought nothing of it; she most likely assumed it was out of surprise.

I had never been happier to have Sophia pull away from me. She kept her hands on my shoulder, but the grip from before was non-existent. It gave me a chance to exhale my pained whimpers as quiet air and compose the most okay smile for Sophia.

"I was so worried about you," Sophia lamented with a head tilt. "Drake told me that you weren't feeling good. Do you need to go back to the hospital?"

"Not feeling well" was the understatement of the year, but not a lie. One out of two isn't so bad.

"I'm okay Sophia. There's no need for us to go to the hospital. " I assured her, stretching my arm out so that it rested behind her head comfortably.

Sophia's eyes were still distrusting when she nodded her head.

"If you say so." She muttered, leaning back against the couch.

"I say so," I confirmed staring into the empty space ahead of me.

We sat there for a few moments, letting our thoughts swirl in the silence until Sophia spoke up again.

"Could we go and meet Marisol this weekend instead?" She asked quietly, hesitancy underlying her tone.

Ever since Sophia found out about Marisol, we had been throwing some ideas around on when the two would meet. Marisol's schedule was finally cleared for the next few weeks, so we decided to get together in two weeks.

I tilted my head, turning to face her. "I'm sure we could, but what's the rush?" I asked.

I watched Sophia's face turn a deep shade of red and turn her head in a way that made it hard for me to see her face.

"I have plans for us that weekend." She mumbled, almost incoherently. My confusion grew at the vagueness, and I twisted in my spot the best I could to completely face her.

"Sophia," I spoke gently, getting her to turn to face me again. "What kind of plans?"

Sophia grumbled to herself for a moment before finally taking in a deep inhale.

"Iwanttotakeyououtonadate." She answered so quickly and jumbled that I couldn't make out a single word she said.

I gave her a look that told her to try again, and she rolled her eyes at me over her shoulder before shifting to face me completely.

"I, Sophia Helms, am asking you, Avery Leon, if you would like to go on a date with me in two weeks." She spoke, this time without a hint of the nervousness her voice was littered with before.

"Yes," I said immediately, not even needing to think about it.

Sophia laughed breathlessly. "Are you sure? Because-"

"Yes," I said again, this time with a firm nod.

Sophia's laugh became more and more bubbly, and soon she was nodding along with me.

"Wow. That was a lot easier than I thought it would be." She breathed quietly, leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

As if I would ever make it anything else for her. 

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