Bi The Way

Vol 3, Chapter 8: And



Derek scrolled through his messages as he walked up to the doors of SDCI, the morning sun tingeing his sandy hair with gold. He didn't even notice Madison sitting on the benches, knees drawn up, still looking worried.

"Derek!"

"Madison," Derek looked over to her, before making his way to the benches. "How are you doing?"

Madison gave him a weak smile, her voice tinged with worry. "Rodney hasn't shown up yet. I've been texting him, but nothing."

"Yeah, I talked to Marcy last night. She says he is really sick," Derek relayed, noticing how Madison's fingers twisted at the hem of her sleeve. "So he is going to stay home today. Probably just needs some rest."

A wave of relief seemed to wash over Madison as she straightened up on the bench. "Ok, hopefully he feels better soon..."

"Come on," Derek motioned toward the school doors, offering her a gentle smile. "Let me buy you a breakfast burrito. They say it's the cure for worrying."

With a soft chuckle, Madison rose, and together they ventured into the buzz of the cafeteria where Matt was already scanning the room for them.

"Any news?" Matt asked immediately as he raced over to them.

"Rodney's okay, just under the weather. He's staying home today," Derek shared, watching Matt's shoulders visibly relax.

"Man, I was freaking out all weekend," Matt admitted, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Thought something bad happened after Friday."

"His mom's taking him to a doctor," Derek added, hoping to ease their worries. "Just to make sure everything's alright."

"Do you really think he is sick?," Matt asked, "I mean maybe he's just trying to avoid us after everything that's happened,"

"We can worry about that later, for now, breakfast is on me, guys." Derek gestured toward the counter. "You both take a seat."

"Sounds good," Madison replied leading Matt over to their usual table.

As Derek waited in line, Luke sauntered over to Madison and Matt, eating a far too large gummy bear. He wrapped it and stuffed it in his bag before he produced a compact flashlight from his jacket pocket and held it out to Madison.

"Think you dropped this the other night," Luke said.

"Thanks, Luke," Madison responded, warmth spreading across her cheeks as her fingers grazed his in the exchange. Her blush didn't go unnoticed by Matt, whose eyes narrowed slightly as he observed their exchange.

"Alright, what's the story here?" Matt prodded, leaning forward with curiosity burning in his gaze. "What exactly happened when you two were searching for Rodney?"

"Nothing worth retelling, man," Luke deflected smoothly, a grin flashing across his face.

"Oh come on, it's obvious something happened," Matt insisted, only to be met with laughter from Madison.

"Nothing happened," she explained, keeping her voice level. "We just searched the park and a few other places, and got a little lost,"

"Ugh, you guys are no fun." Matt playfully rolled his eyes before rising to his feet. "Guess I'll go bug Derek so you two can do whatever it is you do."

Once Matt left, Luke leaned in closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Thanks for not mentioning my little...moment of terror I had that night."

"Hey, it's fine," Madison reassured him, the corners of her mouth twitching with amusement. "Anyone might mistake a bunny for a mugger in the dark."

Their laughter mingled in the air, a light and easy sound. After a moment, Luke's expression changed, he seemed almost nervous.

"Would you want to hang out after school today?" he asked, not making direct eye contact with her.

Madison's eyes met his as she answered, "Yeah, I'd like that."

---

Rodney's bedsheets were twisted and knotted around him like vines. The room was silent except for the occasional hum of a car passing by and he stared blankly at his ceiling. He'd been lying there in the dark, replaying everything he said to his friends, every look of hurt he caused. They must hate him for what he did, he knew he hated himself for it.

"Idiot," he muttered to himself, tears spilling down his cheeks. His self-loathing had taken over, whispering constantly that he'd gone too far this time. Rodney could almost hear his friends rejecting his apology—no one would forgive him.

He took everything he had to roll out of bed, his movements sluggish, disconnected from any real purpose. There was a fog around everything like he was looking through thick glasses. Nothing touched him; not the soft comfort of his bed, not the familiar surroundings of his room, not even the comforting warmth of his mother's concerned gaze as she let him skip school today.

"Fresh air," he thought, reaching for his coat with numb fingers. It hung loosely on his frame, the fabric cold against his skin. His shoes were only half-on, the laces untied, but it didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

The streets of Strathroy were dressed in the dregs of autumn, leaves scattered across the pavement, the air crisp with the promise of winter. Rodney barely noticed, each step mechanical as he wandered without intent until the park loomed into view, the preparations for the winter festival unfolding before him.

"Shouldn't you be at school," a voice said, breaking through his fog.

Rodney looked up to find Tara, Ally's mom, standing by a booth draped in festive garlands. Her eyes were wide with surprise, not unkind, just curious.

"Hey, Mrs. Matthews," Rodney greeted, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.

"Rodney," She tilted her head, regarding him. "You don't look so good, should you be out right now?"

"Just... needed air," he replied, shuffling his feet, avoiding her gaze.

"Ah," she nodded, a knowing look crossing her face. "Taking a mental health day, then?"

"Something like that." Rodney forced a half-smile, trying to make it appear he was ok.

"I see, does this have anything to do with that falling out you and Ally had?" Tara ventured gently, moving to stack some pamphlets on a nearby table. "You know some things feel so big when you are in high school. When you look back on them later, you feel a little silly about them."

"It's not about Ally," Rodney exhaled, the word heavy with regret. "I said some awful things to people I really care about."

"Oh, and now you regret it," Tara said, pausing to give him a maternal glance. "We all say things we don't mean from time to time. The only thing you can do is apologize to them. Hopefully, they understand, they are your friends after all."

"But what if they don't?" Rodney murmured, knowing he wouldn't forgive someone for saying what he said. "What if—"

"Life is full of what ifs," Tara interrupted softly, her eyes reflecting an old, fond memory. "You can't control how people will feel or act but you can control what you do. I know you, I watched you grow up, I know you will do the right thing."

"So I just need to apologize and accept whatever the outcome is," Rodney admitted. "I can do that. Thanks, Mrs. Matthews."

"Anytime, Rodney," she smiled, turning back to her work. "Would you do me a favour before you go? I could use some help setting up."

With a nod, Rodney made his way into the booth. Tara handed him some decorations to hang up for her and watched him slowly work away at his task.

---

Ally's key turned in the lock with a familiar click, the door swinging open to the quiet of her home. She slung her backpack off with a relieved sigh, letting it thump into the closet. The house was too still, the usual hum of her mom's presence missing. "Mom?" she called out, peeking into the kitchen before making her way through the living room and out to the back porch. No sign of her.

"Right, she's probably setting up her booth for the festival," Ally mused aloud, thumbing her phone to life as she dialled her dad, knowing her mom never seemed to pick up her phone.

"Hey, sweetie. Sorry, I'm not home, a client called about getting their lawn set up for Christmas."

"That's ok Dad. Love you," Ally replied, ending the call. She wanted to talk to her mom about the mean comments posted to her accounts by someone she had never heard of before. She huffed wondering if she should just wait until her mom got home but as the minutes ticked away she made up her mind.

"Guess I'm heading to the park," Ally decided, grabbing her jacket.

The crisp air outside painted her cheeks pink as she made her way towards Victoria Park. The festival had filled the space with laughter and music that drifted across the bridge, where she stood. She could already spot the tops of tents and the Ferris wheel spinning lazily against the sky.

"Mom's booth is around here somewhere," she whispered to herself, stepping onto the bridge. She crossed into the festival to start her search.

That's when she saw him—Rodney, unmistakable with his unkept brown curls. He was working on the booth with her mother, of all people. A flare of anger surged within her; after everything he had done, he dared to talk to her mom.

"Mom!" Ally called out without thinking, her mom looked over at her. Rodney glanced up, startled, his eyes meeting hers for a split second before he muttered a goodbye and quickly walked away.

Tara waved at her daughter, a soft smile breaking through her concern. "Ally, honey, what brings you—"

"Why was Rodney here? What were you two doing?" Ally cut in, her tone more accusatory than intended.

"Rodney is going through something," Tara explained calmly. "I offered a bit of advice, that's all."

"Advice?" Ally's hands balled into fists at her sides. "He's the one that started that horrible rumour about, I just know it,"

"Ally, that is quite the accusation," Tara's brows knitted together. "You know Rodney would never do something like that,"

"You don't know the real Rodney." Ally spun on her heel, eyes scanning the dispersing crowd for Rodney. "You don't know anything!"

"Allison, don't you dare speak to me that way," Tara started but Ally had already taken off, spotting Rodney by the exit.

"Rodney!" She caught up to him, blocking his path. "Leave me and my family alone, haven't you done enough damage already? We don't want anything to do with you!"

"Ally, I swear, I was just out for a walk. Your mom talked to me, believe me, I am staying away from you," Rodney pleaded, trying to step around her.

"Like I can believe anything you say after what you did to try and break Matt and me up." Ally's glare was icy. "We're not friends anymore. You come anywhere near me or my family again and I will post the photos of you and Hunter, I don't care if people hate me for it."

Rodney paled, a wounded look crossing his features. "You won't see me again," he said quietly, looking like he was on the verge of tears.

"Good. This is the last time I ever want to speak to you," Without another word, Ally turned and strode back towards her mother, leaving Rodney to wander back to his house alone in the cold.

---

The warm aroma of freshly baked pastries filled the air as Derek pushed open the door to the Portuguese Bakery. His friends, already huddled around a corner table, beckoned him over with a mix of sombre smiles and half-hearted waves.

"Hey," he greeted, sliding into the vacant chair next to Madison. "Has Rodney replied to any of you?"

Madison shook her head solemnly, her chocolate curls bouncing slightly. "Nope. He hasn't responded to anything I've sent him."

"Maybe we should go over to his place?" Matt suggested, his voice tinged with concern.

Derek sighed, resting his elbows on the table. "I don't know. Maybe giving him space is better. I just... I feel like I failed him, you know? All summer, he was off, and I just let it slide. And then I really pushed him about that rumour..." He trailed off, not sure how to finish his thoughts.

"Stop that," Madison interjected firmly, reaching across the table to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. "We all saw Rodney struggling. We just didn't know how bad it was."

"Exactly," Jordan chimed in, his brown eyes serious. "Rodney needs more help than we can give."

"Still," Matt persisted, "we should've told his mom sooner."

"Agreed," Derek nodded, grateful for the support but unable to shake the feeling of responsibility. "But what now? Just wait?"

"I mean there isn't much we can do," Madison slumped back into her chair.

"He'll be fine, he's probably just embarrassed about what he said and figuring out how to apologize," Luke added quietly, not sure if he was a part of this or not.

"That's what I would do," Steven agreed, taking Jordan's hand.

With a collective exhale, the group stood up, leaving behind crumbs and unfinished coffees as they prepared to tackle their homework and wait for Rodney to reach out.

"See you guys later," Madison waved as she left with the others, leaving only Steven and Jordan at the table.

"Hey, want to grab a sandwich before we go?" Steven asked, eyeing the glass display.

"Sure," Jordan replied with a smile.

As Steven returned with their order, Jordan leaned in, they had an idea. "You know, I saw something we could do together the other day. Holly's Kitchen is doing a cooking class,"

"Really?" Steven raised an eyebrow but couldn't help smiling at Jordan's excitement. "That could actually could be fun."

"Right? Plus we'll be heading to college soon, so learning to cook will come in handy." Jordan's eyes sparkled with visions of the future.

"Okay, I'm in," Steven agreed, biting into his sandwich.

Jordan smiled widely. "Awesome, just think about it, we could share a dorm room and then we'll get married and then start a family..."

"Whoa, slow down, future planner," Steven chuckled, cutting him off gently, clearly uncomfortable. "We still have another year of high school to go, we shouldn't be talking about starting a family yet."

"Sorry, got carried away," Jordan laughed, shaking his head at himself.

Steven leaned in, planting a soft kiss on Jordan's lips. "It's okay. I love that about you." The pair returned to their sandwiches.

---

Rodney lay curled up on his bed, the covers bunched around his waist, his gaze fixed on a crack in the ceiling that resembled an accusing finger. Every harsh word Ally had hurled at him echoed in his head, branding him as worthless. A tear trailed down his cheek, carving a path through the dullness that seemed to consume him.

"Stupid," he muttered to himself, the word barely more than a breath. "You're so stupid."

His phone vibrated against the nightstand, a sudden intrusion into his spiral of self-loathing. Rodney's heart skipped as he saw Parker's name flash across the screen. They hadn't talked in months, since Parker started seeing someone. Excited to hear from someone who didn't hate him, he swiped to accept the call.

"Hello? Parker?" His voice was hopeful, he could really use a voice to tell him he's not the worst.

But the silence was the only response, followed by muffled laughter and fragments of a conversation he wasn't a part of. The stark realization hit him—it was just a pocket dial.

"Of course," Rodney said, his voice laced with bitterness. "Why would it be anything else?"

He set the phone down, feeling the sting of disappointment sear his chest. How could he have thought Parker, who hadn't reached out in months, would suddenly call? Rodney berated himself for clinging to a friendship that had clearly faded away.

"Great job, Rodney." He whispered. "You should have known better,"

As the sounds of Parker's distant life continued to play from the phone, Rodney wanted to cry, to release the pain in some way. But the tears wouldn't come; they were trapped behind a wall of numbness. With a heavy sigh, Rodney hung up the call and placed the phone back on the nightstand.

"Sleep," he murmured, pulling the covers over his shoulder. "You need to sleep,"

And as sleep began to claim him, Rodney could feel the voices in his head softening, and finally felt the peace that he was desperate for.

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