Love, Lance - 5. Umbrella (1/2)

Bobby Petrović. Bobby. Ahh. Bobby. The thoughts swirled ceaselessly around in his head, and he couldn't make them go away - not that he wanted to. Bobby Petrović. He was basically the perfect gay. He came out at fourteen to modern, supportive parents. He was masculine and suave, a young James Bond, with handsome Serbian features - dark eyes and darker hair. Handsome and charismatic. Everybody loved Bobby. He was one of the brightest kids in his year, he stole the show in athletics and extra-curricular activities and he made sure he was seen doing it. It was all so flawless, wasn't it? How bloody frustrating.

Lance wasn't in the same league. Not even close. He never had a chance to come out - he wasn't someone with the ability to hide who he was, after all. Nicky had been telling the world that his little brother liked to dress like a girl and put on makeup since Lance could barely walk, so the stigma had been following him since long before he knew what gay even was. Everyone who saw Lance knew what he was - if they even thought he was male at all. He was awkward and shy in spite of his loud, bold appearance. Confidence was never his strong suit - after all, why bother when people, even his own brother and sister, would go out of their way to tear him down when he felt good about himself?

I'm a loser. Bobby can't seriously like me. Bollocks.

Janey nudged him, and Lance squeaked as his attention was suddenly brought right back to the phys ed class. Mr Bell was leering at him with that stern frown and his arms folded. He was a mild-mannered and jolly man most of the time, but students not paying attention to him was his pet peeve. Lance didn't like it when he frowned. He had such a gorgeous smile.

"Am I keeping you up, Lance?" Mr Bell asked.

"Keeping his cock up," someone, likely Michael Meade or his pack of prats, had to shout out, and most of the class of twenty-seven laughed at Lance's expense.

Lance shook his head, turning pink. Janey gently rubbed his back, and his other friends shot Meade a filthy look, but none of them said anything. None of them shot back. Lance was grateful for that. When they antagonised the nastier of the chavs, the violet-haired boy was invariably the one who caught the backlash. He wasn't without allies or support - but it never felt good to be so drastically outnumbered.

"Care to repeat that, Michael?" Mr Bell snapped right to the mean-spirited boy, still chuckling at his own puerile joke.

"What? I didn't say nothin'," Michael lied with a smirk on his lips. "Must've been an echo, right?"

When Mr Bell glowered even more intensely, Lance let a small grin widen his lips. Oops. Pushed your luck, didn't you Mikey? He never does know when to shut his big mouth.

"I'm giving you one chance to apologise for that remark," the teacher's voice was low and dangerous, and Lance knew he'd won this exchange, because no way in a billion years would Michael Meade ever apologise to anyone, especially his favourite punching bag.

"Sorry Lance," Michael looked at him with a shit-eating smirk, and Lance was surprised that word was even in his vocabulary. "That you're a hoof," he added in a loud whisper, and again, the pack of prats erupted in giggles.

"Go back inside and get changed," Mr Bell pointed towards the gym, and it was Janey's turn to start laughing. "You're not competing in the cross country this year."

That got the bully's attention - and his friends.

Hah. You bellend. Suddenly you're not so cocky now, are you? You're the star athlete of the Year Ten boys, after all. Imagine what your parents will say when they hear that you balls'ed it up thanks to a bad attitude. Bye Felicia.

"What?" Michael laughed nervously, looking between Lance and Mr Bell with disbelief on his face. "You're not serious?"

"Get changed. You're not running this year, and while you're missing out, you can write a one-thousand-word essay to your parents explaining why," Mr Bell decided. "I've had enough of you picking on other students. I don't tolerate bullying, and neither should any of you. Shame on any of you who thought that was appropriate or funny."

"I win every year! I make it to nationals every year!" Michael argued, the fury evident in his voice. Being the pride and joy of this tacky little school, representing them even in the national cross country competitions, he obviously thought he was above the rules.

"Actually, you didn't win two years ago, remember?" Jane piped up. "Lance did."

She wrapped her arms around her friend, who turned pink and looked at the grass underneath his purple running shoes, wishing she would shut up. Michael stormed off in a fury, and Lance wasn't looking forward to the repercussions of that one. It was true, though. Michael was the best at bloody well everything sports related, except one event - a five-kilometre run. Lance, a dancer since he was old enough to learn, had better stamina than the athlete and beat him by twenty-one seconds in 2008 - the first time Michael ever lost! It qualified him for the interschool challenge. However, he did not get to compete, as Michael's adult friends gave him a fairly savage beating the day before, and Michael took his place. In 2009, Lance opted for a close second instead, even though he could have easily snatched another win. It just wasn't worth it. This year, he had no obstacles in his way. None of the other boys would be able to keep up with him. Hmm. What would Bobby do? He'd give it his best, wouldn't he? Then I should do the same.

"Alright, you guys are up in a few minutes. Do your stretches and get ready. Lance? Can we have a quick chat?" Mr Bell surprised him by beckoning with a shake of his head, and the boy obediently strolled up to the teacher as he tied up his violet hair into a ponytail so it wouldn't stick to his sweaty face.

"Is this about me zoning out earlier?" Lance asked nervously, and Mr Bell looked at him with... pity?

"Oh. No," Mr Bell shook his head. "This is about Michael. I'm sorry you have to hear things like that. It's completely unacceptable and from now on, I'm going to come down on him like a ton of bricks."

"That's nice?" Lance shrugged, looking away guiltily. "I guess?"

"You don't seem very convinced," Mr Bell pointed out the obvious, and he put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I just mean... there's nothing you can do, right?" Lance explained, having the courage to look up at Mr Bell's brown eyes. "He's not going to stop. So please don't bother on my account."

"Don't bother?" Mr Bell was alarmed. "Of course I'm bothering! You have the right to feel safe in your environment, and I won't tolerate anybody making you feel otherwise. I won't have any students bullying others - not at any time for any reason. If Michael doesn't apologise, then I'll come down on him heavier until he does."

"That's terrific," Lance was unable to keep the bitterness and resignation from his shaky voice and he threw the teacher's hand off of him. "So he makes fun of me during school. That's nothing. What happens when I leave after the final bell and walk home? Are you going to protect me?"

"... What are you talking about?" Mr Bell's stance quickly changed from cool and authoritative to uncertain and concerned. "Are you in danger?"

"What do you reckon, Batman?" Lance fearfully ran his hand over his face. "Just... don't! You don't get how this works, so I'll spell it out for you. He's gonna be mad. He's gonna blame me for this. It doesn't matter if I run to the cops or the principal or the bloody Queen herself, because he has an army of friends who make sport out of bashing queer boys! Do you understand what you did? You sold me up shit creek! None of you deal with the consequences! I do! It's always me! For fuck's sake Mr Bell, I have a modelling job in two weeks' time, and they won't shoot me if I've been slapped around all because you thought you were doing the right thing! It might be my only chance to get my foot in the door, and thanks to you, I'm probably gonna lose it now. When you see him treating me like shit, I don't want you to get involved. I want you to fuck right off!"

"Lance...!" Mr Bell gaped like a fish, stunned by the sudden tirade of the boy he was supposed to be sticking up for. "I... I didn't..."

"I appreciate the thought," Lance, painfully aware that outbursts of emotion always lead to nothing but trouble, swallowed his fury and attempted to smooth things out. "I do. But you can't do anything. Please just look the other way. If I play my cards right, I can get the fuck out of here the moment I turn sixteen. Don't ruin that for me, Mr Bell."

He was expecting a reprimand for disrespecting a member of staff, but Mr Bell did not attempt to do so. He looked with sorrow, pity and guilt in his lovely eyes as Lance turned away and returned to the starting line. He felt bad, but he needed to make certain that the man understood that he could only do more harm than good. Maybe things should have been different, but this wasn't a pricey academy or something. This was a low-end public school. Problem children from problem families ran rife through this neck of the woods, and the staff were impotent when it came to the school's severe bullying issues. Lance was not the only one who copped a lot of abuse.

"Everything okay, doll?" Janey asked him immediately, and he shrugged.

"Ahhh don't worry," he reassured her, biting his lip. "I'll probably have to beg Nicky to walk home with me for a while. Fat chance of that."

"I'll walk you home. And I'll make that arsehole brother of yours come with us," Janey offered, and he smiled at her.

During the stretches, Janey swung her leg up high and rested her calf on Lance's shoulder, and that drew some attention from the male chavs. What irony, Lance thought, that I routinely get closer to a vagina than any of those macho straighties. He winked at someone who stared, and he and Janey began to giggle together. Shortly after, Lance stretched his leg the same way on Jane's shoulder, and his display of flexibility drew attention all over again. The pair didn't mind. There was no awkwardness between them. In many ways, Janey was the sibling Lance always wished he had. Not like Lola and Nicky. He wanted someone to play, laugh, cry, gossip and argue with. What he got was an idiot brother who was disgusted by him and a bitch sister who despised him. Janey was his best ally. The wind beneath his sails. But she couldn't stay with him forever, whereas Lola and Nicky were always there to bring him down.

The run began how it usually did. Most of the lads started off at a sprint, the dimwits. Lance and Jane knew how to pace themselves, and they set a solid pace. It wasn't long before the main mob began to trickle stragglers, and the pair overtook all of them. Some were unfit, others were fit but blew their load too early, and the rest just didn't give a toss. Lance did, though. He always liked to give his all. He and Jane left most of their classmates behind with little effort, running happily together in the warm sun along the grass. There were three sports ovals laid out in an L shape, and the track winded around all of them. One full circuit was a little more than one kilometre, so eventually they began to overlap the slowest and the laziest. All the while, they shared an earphone each as Janey's killer playlist kept them focused and motivated!

You have my heart, and we'll never be worlds apart
Maybe in magazines, but you'll still be my star
Baby, 'cause in the dark you can't see shiny cars
And that's when you need me there
With you I'll always share
Because when the sun shines, we shine together
Told you I'll be here forever
Said I'll always be your friend
Took an oath that I'm a stick it out 'til the end
Now that it's raining more than ever
Know that we still have each other
You can stand under my umbrella!

On the fourth lap, the two of them sharing pole position for so long without Michael Meade throwing his weight around, Janey finally began to slow down, and she plucked the earphone from her friend's ear.

"I'm knackered!" She gasped, slowing to a brisk walking pace as she regained her breath. "Run, queen!"

Who was he to refuse? He blew her a kiss and ran on ahead. It was lovely. His body was exhausted and his legs were jelly, his muscles burning, but he did not care. He had more in the tank, and he pushed through the pain. On one of the crisscrosses between ovals, Lance noticed Luke Blackney, a beefcake friend of Michael Meade, eyeing him off and slowing down so that the two would likely cross paths. Sure enough, when Lance got close, Luke attempted to hip and shoulder him, but the dancer stopped just short of Luke's charge, and the boy went sprawling across the grass like the bloody fool he was. Lance couldn't help but burst into laughter at the idiot's mistake and continued running forward. Nice try, twat-features. He was ready to pass out when he finally finished the race and put his hand on the gym teacher's timekeeping table.

"Well done babes," Janey looked a right mess as she slumped down next to him six minutes later and made exaggerated sounds of agony. "I don't know... how you do it!"

"It's not brain surgery babydoll," he leaned over and grinned at her. Oh Gaga, I hope I don't look as bad she does. "One leg in front of the other."

"You look tragic," she giggled, confirming his fears.

"I knew it!" He wailed, hiding his sweaty face behind his hands. "I'm supposed to go on my date with Bobby tonight, too! I'm a mess! Fix me!"

"You're a drama queen," she gave him a gentle punch in the chest. "You know I'm gonna make sure you look hashtag flawless. You could just use a shower in the meantime. I didn't know you could smell this bad."

The day progressed without incident, which was a relief to Lance, who had been expecting reprisals from Michael Meade and company. Maybe I was too rough on Mr Bell, he thought guiltily. I don't have many allies, and he went out of his way to make things easier for me, even if he doesn't understand how things work. Before he and Jane left to get him all dolled up and ready for the most perfect boy in existence, he decided to explain himself properly to the concerned teacher. Mr Bell always waited until fifteen minutes past three to leave the homeroom just in case any students needed to talk about anything. Nobody ever did. Sure enough, he was there alone, reading something on his phone.

"Hey... um..." Lance spoke from the door, one hand playing with his violet locks, startling the teacher. Hehe. "Do you have a moment?"

"I have quite a few moments," Mr Bell looked up and smiled at him, beckoning him inside. "I was hoping to see you."

"Little old me?" Lance asked with a provocative smile as he approached, and then he immediately remembered himself. Uhhh this your teacher. Not a friend, and certainly not a potential boyfriend! You stop that. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I know you were only trying to help. I was... I don't know. It's a sensitive subject."

"You really scared me, Lance," Mr Bell admitted as Lance leaned back and sat on one of the front desks. "I've never seen that side of you before."

"I'm okay," the teenager faked a smile as he had learned to do. A nice, happy smile to hide the turmoil that tore him apart on the inside. There was no reason anyone else needed to know he was struggling.

"The things you said to me earlier tell me that you are far from okay."

"I was just upset. It's nothing."

"You're unhappy and you're terrified," Mr Bell corrected him. His brown eyes were glistening with sorrow and sympathy. "Nobody is supposed to go through life like this, Lance. These teenage years are supposed to be about discovering yourself. Not being punished for it. I'll give you credit, though. You do a fantastic job of pretending you're coping, but it's an act, isn't it? A bloody convincing one, mind. You will definitely be a star in the entertainment industry, let me tell you that right now. You've got the look, the charisma and the talent. But at the end of the day, it is all a facade."

Nobody ever called Lance on his bullshit. Only Jane. But then, so few people were able to see beyond the surface. Lance had a look unlike anyone else in town. He had a reputation and a... unique personality. People didn't bother to look for layers below. Not even his mother and father - not really. They wanted to pretend he was happy. They went along with his act because it was easier. Jane was the only one he let in. Not his other friends. Not Nicky and Lola, or Sue and Garth. Only Jane. In truth, he hated everything. He hated himself for being born such a... freak. He hated London for being the worst place to grow up. He hated his parents for letting his brother and sister walk all over him. He hated the whole fucking world because the Michael Meades got away with everything. And he hated Mr Bell for sussing him out. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone?

"Fake it til you make it," he uttered a weak chuckle, but his downtrodden expression conveyed his true feelings. Fake it til you make it. That's what I have to do. That's my only chance.

"High School is never going to be fun for you," Mr Bell spoke again after a pause. "It's going to suck so hard. I won't lie. But you need to trust me on this, okay? Eventually, it's going to end. It will. It always does. All of this? It's just temporary. You graduate and you never, ever have to deal with any of these people again. All of it's behind you and you're free to be you. And you're a great person, Lance. You're conscientious, kind-hearted and full of spirit, mate. Don't ever lose that. Don't ever let them take that from you. I'm on your side, okay? I'm always here if you need help."

"Mr Bell... I'm just here to apologise," Lance wasn't okay with hearing the man's supportive words. They threatened to make him break down into tears, and he couldn't do that. Not now! Not today! Not while he had a date with Bobby! Everything needed to be perfect, and no ally was going to mess that up with their good intentions. "I need to go."

"Can I offer you a lift home?" Mr Bell asked as the boy stood and turned away.

"Do you want me to be lynched instead of bashed?" He replied, forcing himself to shove the emotions back down where they belonged. "Thank you, but no."

"Wait!" The teacher got up and sidled through the desks to reach his student. He handed him a small piece of paper. "This is my contact number. If you need help, whether it's only a chat or if you're in trouble, I want you to call me. Any time."

Lance exhaled deeply and looked at the number scribbled on the small piece of paper Mr Bell had torn from an exercise book. Maybe I will keep this. What harm could it do?

"Thank you again," Lance's eyes, hidden by violet contacts to match his hair, were full of gratitude as he smiled. "I'll see you on Monday."

The words spoken by Mr Bell stuck with Lance after he left and went in search for his beloved friend for his escort home. Nobody is supposed to go through life like this. I'm on your side. You are far from okay. It's all temporary. You're conscientious, kind-hearted and full of spirit. Don't let them take that from you.

Jane was at her locker, and true to her word, she'd managed to seize Nicky and force him to wait for them. The seventeen-year-old didn't look so happy about it, but Jane always did have a bit of a hold over both him and Lola. Nicky wanted to get in Jane's pants, and Lola saw her as a role model - ironically hating her brother because he was so much like the red-headed girl.

"You got yourself in the shit again?" Nicky asked gruffly, and Jane slapped him on the arm. "What? Why can't he just keep his head down?"

"Dunno, Nicky! People just can't seem to leave me alone," Lance purred in response, hoisting his back up over his shoulders properly. "I won cross country today. Thanks for asking."

"Shit," Nicky palmed his face. "Why would you do that? Are you wonky in the head? Are you trying to get slapped?"

"Because I actually feel like succeeding once in a while. Maybe you could try it?" Lance snapped back.

"Shut up both of you," Janey stood between them, not in any mood to listen to them quarrel. "We're gonna all walk to Sue's kitchen together every school day til Lance finishes up his modelling shoot, and fuck listening to you go on like a pair of girls with PMS the whole time."

"What's in it for me? He doesn't want me around," Nicky pointed at his little brother, who sneered at him in response. After all, he wasn't wrong exactly.

"If Lance doesn't get his head kicked in for two weeks, I'll let you have a go on my bristols," Jane promised, and Lance nearly burst out laughing.

She would never let Nicky do that, but that was enough to motivate him. The walk home took about fifteen minutes, and the whole time, Lance was nervously looking over his shoulder and eyeing off anybody who might have been scouting him. He'd been jumped and chased so many times. It might have been Michael deciding to choose a far less obvious time and place to exact retribution or it might have been Nicky's presence, but they made it all the way home without any incident.

"Can I at least have a look?" Nicky asked Jane cheekily as the boys kicked their shoes off by the door.

Jane shrugged and briefly lifted up her shirt to expose her fitness bra - it wasn't a sexy piece of attire, but she certainly did fill it out, and Nicky's eyes lit up hungrily. What a bloody pillock, Lance thought. So easily moved by the potential promise of boobs! After getting squeezed and kissed and congratulated for his efforts in the cross country by his mother, Lance was ready to prepare for the big date with his best friend's help!

Hey if you can read his you're gay awesome and I love you ❤️ Thank you!
This chapter was supposed to include Lance's date, but it was running pretty long so I cut it in half. The date will be Ch6.