#studentau

The next day, only hours after finally tearing his eyes away from his tumblr messages, Phil was awoken by his alarm clock bleeping madly from his bedside; it was 7am, an hour before he would have to leave for school. He rolled onto his side and tried to prise his eyes open, sneezing as he caught sight of the sunlight flooding into his room. Phil didn't tend to close his curtains at night; his room was on the 3rd floor so it wasn't as though his neighbours could peer in, and the awakening with sunshine each day helped to regulate his circadian rhythm. He wasn’t a morning person, and he’d once read that allowing yourself to wake up naturally to sunlight was a gentle way to start your day. Phil wasn’t convinced there was any ‘gentle’ way to drag yourself out from underneath the blankety warmth of your bed, but he would take any help he could get.

 As he considered this, he began to pick up the scent of bacon wafting into his room from the hall; Denise, an employee of his parents, was cooking breakfast. Denise had worked for the Lesters for as long as Phil could remember. She had very little family of her own, therefore rarely took annual leave. In a way, Phil was like a son to her; she had taken care of him almost every single day of his life. Mr and Mrs Lester were rarely home; they ran a very successful business and spent most days at their office in Leeds. Since it was so far away, they tended to stay there on weekdays whenever they were particularly busy, which was most of the time. Phil wasn't even entirely sure what they did exactly; he'd never asked, and they'd never told him.

 Phil pulled his blankets from his body, curling up further as he was exposed to the cold air, then swivelled around to rest his feet on the floor. He noticed his new uniform was folded neatly on his chest of drawers and he made a note to thank Denise when he made his way down for breakfast.

 As he padded along to the main bathroom, he tied his dressing gown around him and brushed his fringe from his eyes. He could barely see a thing without his glasses, and along with the tiredness, this caused him to stumble over the cat and bump into a doorframe.

"Phil!" Denise called from downstairs, hearing his footsteps shuffling along the hall. “Breakfast!” "Won't be long!" Phil shouted back, his voice croaking with tiredness. He quickly brushed his teeth, preferring to do this before breakfast, then brushed his hair smooth, fixing it into place with hairspray. Running down the stairs, he paid little attention to his footing, and missed the bottom step. He laughed to himself as he thought about how clumsy he was. When he had been a toddler, he had had a house rabbit named Holly; he had always distinctly remembered the time she had gone missing, only to turn up when Phil was playing on his trike in the garden. He had swerved, only to land in a thorn bush, much to his mother's despair. Another time, he'd fearlessly climbed an apple tree in search of the poisonous spiders and venomous snakes he'd been learning about at school, when he missed a branch and fell, breaking his arm. His mother had screamed at him about how she didn't have time for such childish behaviour, which had confused Phil, because he was a child. His father had shouted when Phil began to cry, telling him not to be such a baby, and Phil hadn't understood what he'd meant either, because his arm was hurting and it made it better to cry. Denise had scooped him up into her arms and he'd buried himself into her warmth, his tears slowing down as she soothed him, offering to drive him to the hospital rather than his mother. Denise had claimed she didn't want the Lesters to be interrupted from their work, but really she couldn't stand the thought of Phil being stuck with his cold parents in an unfamiliar environment, crying with pain. Sometimes she wished Phil was her own. He deserved better.

 "Morning!" smiled Denise cheerily. "Hi," Phil yawned. "Are Mum and Dad at work?" He knew the answer already. Denise was cheerful and relaxed, cooking unhealthy amounts of bacon; his parents couldn't possibly be home. Denise nodded. "It's just us. I made bacon this morning. How many sandwiches do you want? Two? Three? You're a growing boy…I'll dish you up three, but don't tell your mother." Phil laughed, though knew what they were both thinking; he didn't see his mother often enough to say very much to her at all.

 --- 

 On the other side of town, Dan was only just beginning to stir. It was 7.30; he would have to miss breakfast, but in his opinion, a bowl of coco pops was a small sacrifice for an extra half an hour in bed. "DAN!" a voice shouted from the hallway. "DAN! MUM TOLD ME TO WAKE YOU UP, YOU LAZY SHIT" "ANDREW! That is not what your Mum told you to say. LESS OF THE LANGUAGE," shouted Mr Howell from downstairs. Dan heard Andrew laugh from the hallway as he replied, "SORRY DAD!" Andrew shuffled along to Dan's door and pushed it open. Dan was always shouting at his brother for invading his privacy, but Andrew didn’t care about privacy. "Get up! It's 8am! You’re totally going to be late." "WHAT?!" Dan shouted, rolling out of bed and landing on the floor with a thud. "My clock says 7.30!"

Andrew shook his head, his face serious. "Definitely 8." "Andrew, stop winding your brother up," Mrs Howell scolded as she walked into the room with a pile of newly washed clothes. "Here Dan, I had to wash your uniform from yesterday because I haven't gotten round to buying more sweatshirts yet. You'll have to wait until payday." "Thanks," Dan mumbled, standing up and racing his brother to the bathroom. He got there first, and shut the door, sliding the lock in place. Glancing at the clock on the bathroom wall, Dan sighed. It was definitely 7.30am.

 --- 

 "Hey! Phil!" Dan shouted as he spotted Phil's tufty black hair and bright yellow backpack. He broke into a run, trying to catch up with him. Despite having parted to walk in different directions, it seemed that they walked the same way to school and Dan wondered if there was a quicker way for him to get home that he didn’t yet know about. He figured he’d use google maps, too nervous to ask.

Phil abruptly stopped and turned around, initially fearful. When he spotted the origin of the voice, he allowed a slight smile to creep across his face as he waited for Dan to catch up. "Hey," Dan gasped, panting as he tried to regain his breath. "I'm really no good at this running stuff." Phil's heart began to race as though he were the one who’d just been running, and noticing this, he broke out in a sweat. He refused to acknowledge the emotions coursing through him and took a deep breath. "Me neither."

Together, they walked the rest of the way to school, chatting mindlessly about music and YouTube. It was mostly Dan who did the majority of the talking, though Phil was grateful; he didn't find conversation easy, but if Dan felt uncomfortable with Phil's quietness, he didn't show it.

 Dan didn't know how, but he was going to tease Phil out of his shell and instil confidence in him. Seeing how comfortable he was in front of his 60,000 viewers, Dan just knew that if he kept going - kept proving to Phil that he wasn't going to make fun of him, it was very possible that Phil would gain more confidence and find his voice. Hell, he might even express an opinion or two. His voice was like music to Dan's ears, and he felt rage burn up inside of him that anyone had ever made Phil feel inadequate.

 Throughout the day, Dan continued to sit next to Phil in every lesson, despite the disapproving eyes of the other students. Dan didn't mind - he was just thankful he hadn't been subjected to another day in isolation. He knew by sitting with Phil, he was practically welcoming the bullying, but he didn’t care one bit. This time, it would be worth it. Phil learnt that Dan was incredibly intelligent, and began to doubt that his new friend had needed help with his homework the previous night after all, but the thought of Dan pretending just to coax Phil into friendship only made Phil grow fonder. 

 That Lunchtime, Dan followed Phil down to the canteen like a little lost puppy. He felt a bit awkward and slightly worried that Phil would find him irritating but he had nobody else to sit with and he kind of hoped that Phil was his friend now. "Can I-" "You can sit with me if you have to," Phil smirked as he set down his bag on a table. He stayed standing as he waited for Dan to respond. Dan felt the butterflies in his stomach go crazy. He smiled and pretended to sigh. "Phil, your presence is as dazzling as a sky full of a stars, and it would be an honour to be in your company.”

Phil laughed; a genuine, heartfelt laugh.

Unfortunately, as the laws of luck dictate, a group of year 10's were passing at that very moment, and they never failed to disappoint. "There's the freaks," one of them sniggered as he pointed at them. "Let's go sit with them!" The group of students laughed maliciously, and began to crowd around the table, circling like vultures. Dan grabbed Phil's elbow, guiding him away from the group, casting an angry stare at them as he walked away. Although he tried really hard not to show it, Phil shut down whenever they were nearby; his mind stopped ticking and his tongue turned to stone. He took it all in; he heard everything they said, and he listened to it, stockpiling their taunts into the file of 'Reasons Phil Hates Himself'. His confidence and self-worth were shot to pieces, crumbling away further each time they opened their mouths.

"That's right! You protect your boyfriend from the big boys!" another jeered. Dan fought hard with the urge to turn around and punch him right in the face. He'd had good practise at his old school, and his aim was exceptional, but he knew all too well who'd end up with the blame. Nevertheless, he wanted them to feel all the pain that Phil felt internally when they mocked him. Phil said it didn't bother him but Dan knew better.

 Phil pointed to the field as they exited the hall. "Yeah," Dan agreed, "How about we eat over in the corner where that tree is? It'll be quite shaded and it looks quiet." Shade was still very much important despite it being September already. It rarely cooled below 20 degrees Celsius, and for Britain, that was pretty warm. Once they had sat down, Phil began to talk again as though nothing had happened. Dan pretended not to notice the sudden shift. "Where do you usually sit?" Dan asked curiously as he began to unwrap a sandwich that his Mum had made for him that morning. "Here," Phil replied, motioning to the patch of grass they were sitting on. "And they don't bother you here?" "Not really. They play football, and I just read. Sometimes I sneak out through the hole in the fence back there. I don't think they know about it, and nobody ever realises I'm gone." Phil told Dan with a grin, pointing to a part of the fence that had a missing fencepost, leaving a slightly wider gap. Dan grinned. "Maybe you could show me some time…"

Phil adjusted his fringe whilst staring into the blank screen of his phone. Dan couldn't control the thoughts of utter adoration that he was feeling for his classmate at that moment. His hair was amazing. It was the kind of hair that Dan had hoped for when he took a trip to the hairdressers a few weeks ago, but if he wanted anything that didn't resemble hobbit hair, he had to straighten it for at least half an hour. Despite his hatred for his natural curls, he preferred to have extra sleep in the mornings as opposed to waking up earlier to do anything about it. His brother, blessed with poker straight hair teased him terribly whenever he used straighteners and his Dad just sighed and told him real men didn't play around with their hair. His Mum said he looked handsome; that the girls would be fighting over him, and that was even more embarrassing than going to school with curls - partly because she didn't know he wasn't interested in girls quite the same way as boys, but also because the only time anyone ever spoke to him was to make fun of him. In retrospect, he was quite surprised it never got back to his Mum that he liked boys. After all, Andrew was only a couple of years below him, meaning he surely knew of the rumours, and yet he never mentioned it. Dan wondered if he was disgusted, or perhaps that he was sticking to some unspoken brotherly rule that forbade him from telling their parents; what happens at school stays at school...

"Is your hair naturally that wavy?" Phil asked Dan, breaking him away from his distracted mind-wandering. "Uh-huh, although I really wish it was naturally straight like yours." "Are you kidding me? My hair looks permanently greasy because it just flops over my head. I have to put tonnes of hairspray on it to make it look half okay!" Phil exclaimed, fluffing his fringe up. Dan laughed. "No way, your hair is awesome!" "Well I wish we could like, have a hair transplant or something, because I prefer yours," Phil joked.

Dan decided to take a wild leap into the unknown; summon his courage and ask what he'd been trying to build the courage to ask all morning... "Are you doing anything after school?" "No," Phil answered, his heart flipping over, praying that Dan was going to be on tumblr. "Fancy hanging out?" Dan asked, feeling his cheeks turn red with embarrassment. He hoped it wasn't too obvious. "That'd be- um, that'd be okay," Phil told him, averting his eyes and trying to play it cool. "I mean, I'm not doing anything else…"

 Later that day, Dan and Phil walked down toward the park again, partly because it was quieter than walking in the other direction with the throng of students, and partly because Phil wanted to show Dan the music store a couple of streets down from the town centre. Phil talked non-stop the whole way there and Dan couldn't help but smile to himself because 24 hours ago, Phil had barely uttered a single sentence and now he couldn't shut him up! He didn't mind though; in fact, he revelled in the success of his mission to befriend the boy. He loved Phil's little nervous giggle, and the way his tongue poked out of his mouth as he laughed. Dan was in awe of the music store. It still sold CDs and records, along with the merchandise of every relevant band or singer from old timers like Queen and David Bowie, to Muse, to Justin Bieber (not so appealing to Dan), to K-Pop. Dan spent his £5 'bus money' that his Mum gave him in case of rain on a Muse sticker set with the intention of adding them to his mural of random stickers on his laptop. Phil didn't buy anything, and Dan wondered if it was because he couldn't afford to, though Phil insisted he owned most of the shop's merch having lived there so long. Dan struggled to believe him, because it seemed a pretty far fetched excuse, but he let it slide.

 A few hours later, Phil told Dan that he best head home since his parents were due back earlier tonight. He explained that he wasn't actually meant to socialise on school nights; that he'd have to sneak in before they noticed he was gone. "So is it usually just you at home?" Dan questioned Phil. "No…Denise is always there. She's the housekeeper." Phil replied nervously before he could change his mind. He didn't know how Dan would react to this information. Usually, people would accuse him of bragging or call him names. But not Dan. Dan didn't seem to care at all. In fact, he didn't even mention it, but instead began to tell Phil about how annoying Andrew was when they were both alone. Apparently, he loved to wind Dan up and his favourite trick was turning the internet modem off randomly, then laughing when his brother appeared downstairs to investigate.