For You

Zacky knew he was in for it when the English teacher paired him with Matt for a short term project.

He knew he'd end up doing all the work and that he'd have to spend today trying to convince Matt they couldn't go to his house. His dad didn't have work today and he was, under no circumstances, allowed to have anyone over.

So he was seated next to Matt who was glumly looking through the paper. Matt would have just made Zacky do this by himself, but Mrs. Elliot liked sending parents the list of assignments they had completed every month. His mom would wonder why he never did this project and he'd have to lie and then she'd go to the teacher who'd tell her that he was with Zacky and then he'd get in trouble. Ugh.

"We're going to your house."

Zacky looked up, panicked. "N-no! P-please, Mattie-- I mean M-Matt.. C-Can't we go to yours.. Please..?"

Matt narrowed his eyes. "Why the fuck do you think I would let you in my house?"

"Mr. Sanders! Language!"

He rolled his eyes and shifted his attention back to Zacky, questioning him with his eyes.

Zacky gulped. "W-We just can't go to my house.. They're, uh, renovating things." he lied.

The taller boy just snorted. "Since when did you get enough money to renovate your house? Last I checked, you were the poorest kid in school." Zacky turned red as the students who heard started to snicker. He blinked away his tears and begged one last time to just not do the project at his house.

"Whatever, fine." Matt mumbled after several minutes. "I don't know what your problem is, but if we get a good grade I might let you go for annoying the hell outta me."

Sighing in relief, Zacky nodded gratefully and already felt a little better. Honestly, he knew Matt would back off today so his mom wouldn't see Zacky in a bad state. So he was safe for today, and it was Friday, which meant there was no school tomorrow, which meant he could go three whole days without worry.

Unless his dad got angry or something. But Zacky would just the door to his room locked and he would be relatively safe.

For the rest of the day, Matt was forced to tell people to not pick on Zacky. And Zacky being Zacky, used his imagination to pretend that Matt was defending him, like old times. And he was in this dreamlike state until the end of school, where he was snapped out of his thoughts by Matt yelling at him to hurry the fuck up.

Feeling rushed, Zacky hurriedly grabbed the books he would need and scurried to follow Matt, who was already heading outside. Matt grumbled to himself in annoyance as he unlocked his car door and the two of them got in. It was an awkward ride and worsened the taller boy's mood. He had to fake being friends with the fag in front of his mom for the next few days and he had no idea how long he would be able to last.

Zacky nervously shifted in his seat and stared at only the floor. He held his bag close to his chest and couldn't relax. He thought of all the possible outcomes from this project.. And couldn't think of any good ones.

"Listen up." Matt ordered, keeping his eyes on the road. "You're going to fucking pretend that we're friends and act happy, okay? My mom thinks you're my best friend- only god knows why- and I don't need any trouble from this, especially 'cause of you. Got it?"

Gulping, Zacky nodded and slid down a bit in his seat. It couldn't be that hard to pretend right? Maybe in front of Matt's mom things would almost seem normal again.. Even if it were for a few minutes.

As Matt pulled into his driveway, Zacky got out and felt a decade's worth of memories come back to him in full force. He didn't have time to stop and think, though, since Matt roughly grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him to the front door.

Zacky suddenly got more anxious, hoping he didn't look too shabby. He wanted to look good for Mrs. Sanders- it had been so long. As Matt dug through his pockets for his keys and then opened the door, Zacky saw that a lot had changed since he had last visited. Well.. It's been ten years..

"Matt, dear, is that you-- Oh! Zacky!"

He smiled and gave her a shy wave. "Hi, Mrs. Sanders.."

"It's been so long, honey! Come on in, both of you! Why haven't you been coming over, Zacky?"

At least Mrs. Sanders hadn't changed much. True, she looked older, but only a little bit. She was still the bright, happy woman Zacky had always known. It brought him some comfort, knowing some things were still the same. He was glad he didn't have any visible bruises; he didn't want her to worry about him.

Matt cleared his throat. "Mom, we've both been really busy, Zacky's been studying a lot past few years. And we were put together for a project, so if you'll excuse us--"

"Oh, sure Matt." she said. "I'll let you two go off and do your project. Why don't you stay for dinner, Zack?"

"I-um--"

"It's settled then! I'll make dinner for four. Matt, your father should be home in an hour or so. I'm sure he'd love to see Zacky, too."

They made small talk for a few minutes before Mrs. Sanders finally let Matt and Zacky go upstairs. While entering Matt's room, Zacky mumbled a 'sorry' only to be ignored. He was, of course, apologizing because he felt like such an interference and inconvenience for Matt. It sure was a horrible feeling, but it was nothing new, either.

Matt tossed his bag next to his bed and settled down comfortably on his chair. He motioned for Zacky to sit on his bed and said, "Well, you know what to do. Start."

Unable to say anything, Zacky nodded and pulled out the materials he would need. It was just an essay- couldn't be that bad. He just hoped to god he wouldn't fail, though he probably would. He didn't exactly get the whole chapter. Or the ones before it.

Half and hour had gone by when Zacky saw he had made no progress whatsoever. He needed help.

"Hey, um.. M-Matt?"

Matt, who was chatting with his friends online, sighed in annoyance and turned around to face Zacky. "What?"

"C-could you.. um.. Well--"

"You don't get the lesson."

Zacky swallowed and nodded. It was true Matt couldn't beat up on him right now, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to pay for it later.

Rolling his eyes, Matt took his own notebook out from his bag and threw to it Zacky, who hastily caught it. "Check the notes." He turned his attention back to his computer without another thought.

Well, no wonder he's an A student.. Zacky thought while he flipped through the book. Matt sure didn't look like the type, but he was pretty well organized and took good notes. His handwriting wasn't so bad, either. Zacky was sure he could raise his grade by a whole letter if he had notes like this.

The essay wasn't as hard as he had thought it would be. Mainly because Matt's notes were so helpful. He would have to just type it up at home, send it to himself, and print it out at school. He didn't have his own laptop or a printer at home, and the fact always made everything much more harder, considering a majority of his homeworks needed to be typed.

Honestly, even though Zacky was writing the essay and all, he was copying what Matt had word for word. So in a way, he wasn't really doing all the work..

Dinner time came around, and Zacky still hadn't finished. That meant he would have to stay for a bit longer. It was nice because it meant he didn't have to go home to his dad, but it also sucked because Matt made his feelings completely obvious when they were alone together. At least Zacky could pretend to be happy while dinner lasted, right? It'd be nice to have some good homemade food, too...

"Where the hell have you been all this time, boy?" Matt's father said jokingly.

Zacky smiled. "S-sorry, sir.. It's been so hectic.."

Mr. Sanders laughed. "The two of you just have fun outside of the house now, huh? I remember when both of you were still in diapers. It still seems like yesterday.."

Zacky and Matt forced themselves to chuckle as Mrs. Sanders brought in the food. After saying grace, they began to eat, and Zacky felt like he was in heaven. For the time being anyway.

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The essay had gone over well, and it was the first time Zacky had received a 95 in anything in a long time. Matt seemed pretty content with it, too. But it's not like that made a difference. What was about to come would almost drive him crazy.

He should have been more careful, though. He should have known better.

"You disgusting little fag." Matt said, kicking Zacky, who was already on the floor, in the gut.

One of his friends laughed. "Aww, Mattie was such a cutie!"

They held up Zacky's precious picture tauntingly as he tried to get back up and retrieve it, only to be pushed back down.

Zacky had been feeling particularly bad and decided to sneak a look on the photograph. He was caught, though, and this was punishment.

"Why the fuck do you carry this around?" one of them sneered. Matt glared at the photograph and snatched it from the person who was holding it.

"Let's rip it up."

In a split second, Zacky scrambled back up and tried to snatch the picture back. Matt, though, was a lot faster, and pulled it out of his reach. Zacky was punched and kicked at until he could barely move.

"Matt come on.. please.." he begged weakly, from the ground. "I-I promise I won't bring it to school.. You'll never see it again.."

All he got was an eye roll in response. And with one quick movement, his picture was torn in two.

Zacky just watched helplessly as they practically shredded apart his photo. Tears streamed down his face as he looked on. When they were finished, they just left, calling him names, and shouting threats.

Whimpering, he moved as quickly as he could in his state to gather the pieces before the wind blew them away. They crumbled in his hand as he snatched him off the ground and shoved them into his pocket. He couldn't lose the picture. It was all he had.

Rubbing his eyes with his palm, Zacky slowly got back up to limp home. Today was shit and he certainly wasn't looking forward to tomorrow, either.

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At two in the morning, after hiding from his father, Zacky worked meticulously under a dull lamp light and taped his picture back together piece by piece.

The end result was crude, but the photograph was still recognizable. Smiling, Zacky wiped away the remainder of his tears and hid the picture in the way bottom of his desk drawer. There was no way he would ever bring it out again. It would only be for his view, in the safety of his own room.