@ahomegirlslives
The past few weeks had been hell for them. Ever since Peter had told him he was leaving, he had spent every waking, and sleeping hour with him. Clinging to him and hoping he would never let go, that it was all just a dream he never had to wake up from. He would be moving right before their first day, he told him earlier that summer, and he wouldn’t be coming back. The first month was the worst of them, when people would look at him in the halls and know, look at him with sympathy, as though Peter had died. He hadn’t. He just left. He wanted to shout this at everyone who stared at him, whose eyes were filled with pity.Â
The heartbreak didn’t stop them from wearing the clothes they wanted to, or talking to people like he had before, but there were certainly moments when he would get lost in his head. When he would leave for a while and wish he was somewhere else. Through the weeks he was alone, there was a constant, dull ache in his side. Something to help with the bad feelings, Peter always told him. Something to release it. But this time it didn’t help, it only made things worse, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He had no one to talk to anymore. Sure, a lot of people knew him, a lot of people wanted him around, but he never actually got to know anyone. No one knew him. And he was alone.Â
He was sitting at his friend group’s usual table, looking down and doodling in their journal, waiting for everyone else to come, when Finn sat in front of him. Someone he had never been allowed to talk to before, but who was dating one of their friends. He thought, now that Peter was gone, maybe he could have one or two male friends. Maybe it would be good for him. He looked up and smiled. No one else had come to sit down yet. “Hey. Finn, right?”
