No one ever teaches you how to deal with a traumatic situation. No parent ever sits their child down and says, 'here's what to do if you're the victim of a violent crime,' they just don't. Everyone likes to assume that bad things can never happen to them, they live in a world of blissful ignorance where everything is sunshine and rainbows. Then, when tragedy strikes, we are stuck trying to figure out how to pick up the pieces of our now broken lives. How do you pick up the pieces of a life so shattered? And how do you begin to put them back together? My life felt like a million-piece puzzle, and I had no glue to hold it all together. Just when I managed to put some of it back together, someone came and shoved the puzzle off the table.

That's what it felt like going back to school on Monday. My therapy session with Dr. Meyer had actually helped, some of my pieces were put back into place. The minute Trent and I walked into school on Monday, those pieces were shattered on the floor, into tinier pieces than they were before. I could feel every eye in that building trained on me, the whispers may as well have been screams they rang so loud. I got halfway down the hallway when I broke my hand loose from Trent's grip and ran into the bathroom, locking myself in a stall. I heard Trent's frantic footsteps behind me and his desperate pleas for me to come back, but I ignored him. That didn't stop him from following me into the bathroom, where he sat himself down on the opposite side of the door I was locked behind.

"Gray, come on," he begged. I sniffled and wiped my runny nose with my sleeve.

"I c-can't go out there," I cried.

"Grayson, they don't know what really happened, they're just spreading rumors."

"It was in e-every paper, o-on every news b-broadcast."

"Your name was never mentioned."

"It d-didn't have to be! Enough p-people recognized my h-house on the news."

"All they know is that Adam was arrested on sexual assault charges, they don't know who he assaulted, they don't know shit. They're making up rumors and drawing conclusions and at the end of the day all it does is say how shitty they are as people, it doesn't affect you, only if you let it." Does he even realize who he's dating? "I know, it's real rich coming from me. But you can do this babe, you can go out there, and you can face them. Just hold your head high, and don't let them see you cry." I shook with sobs, there was no way I could face everyone.

"I c-can't," I cried. "Every t-time I hear a whisper, or s-see them stare I'm going to h-have a panic attack."

"Every time they whisper or stare, just think about something that makes you happy, that makes you feel like you can take on the world. Their words can't hurt you as long as you have that thing or that person." I opened the bathroom door and turned to face Trent.

"You kn-know that's you, right?" A small smile spread across his face.

"And you know you make me happy too, right?" My turn to smile. "Grayson you are so strong, you have faced so much more than asshole high school kids. And you will always have me. I promise if I hear anyone talking about you today, I'll kick the shit out of them. We're going to get through all of this, together."

"I trust you," I sighed, locking eyes with Trent and smiling as I got lost in his emerald eyes.

"Come on, let's get you to bio." He stood up and held out his hand for mine, helping to pull me up as I put my hand in his. We walked through the halls hand in hand, and I still couldn't help but notice everyone's stares. The weight on my chest had returned, and I was finding it harder and harder to breathe. When I noticed Kyle stomping his way toward us, I began to feel lightheaded.

"Hey homos! I heard your parents were harboring a pedophile last week?" Trent's grip on my hand tightened as he no doubt fought off the urge to rip Kyle's face off.

"Fuck off, Kyle. You really, really do not want to fuck with me today." Kyle and his cronies just laughed as I cowered in fear behind Trent, my hand still tightly in his, reminding me that as long as he was next to me, I would be okay.

"Is that why you're a fag, Gayson?" Kyle mocked, emphasizing that he took the "r" out of my name as if he was clever.

"Shut up!" I shouted as loud as I possibly could, surprising everyone, including myself. It was an involuntary reflex, a remnant of a time where I really believed that Adam was responsible for my sexuality. No matter how much I had learned, I would still always be insecure about it. I was still well aware of the myths and the stereotypes, and how well my story fit into them. I knew the conclusions that people like Kyle would always draw. Part of me would always be put on the defensive when it was brought up.

"Well... fuck," was all Kyle could say in response. His expression shifted from one of twisted satisfaction to that of confusion and... concern? Maybe regret? It was like in that moment shit just got a little too real for him, as he came to the realization that he had struck a nerve, uncovered the truth.

That was the thing about people like Kyle, and all kinds of bullies. Most of them have some dark past or hidden shame of their own, and they take it out on others, project their insecurities and vulnerabilities onto others. I'm not saying that Kyle is gay himself, that's another myth that I don't want to perpetuate. But I truly think that Kyle has been raised with a toxic standard of masculinity to live up to, and so that leads him to pick on people like me, people who aren't masculine and who are okay with that. So, he's fine to emasculate me, call me a fag and a sissy, throw me into the locker and beat me until I cry, taunt all of my more feminine qualities, it's all so he can prove he is the alpha male. I think my abuse hit a little too close for him, though. He didn't think I was actually abused by Adam; he was just trying to tear me down some more, humiliate me, perpetuate that queer people are dangerous and a threat to masculinity.

"Let's go guys," Kyle mumbled as he turned and walked down the hallway. Trent and I stood in shock as they retreated, and then Trent turned to me, concern in his eyes. I tried to look all over the hallway except for at Trent. If I met his eyes I might crack, the whole school, well, the whole hallway anyway, now knew what happened. It was a matter of time before it spread through the school like wildfire and I didn't know if I could handle my biggest secret being the talk of the school.

"Grayson, it's okay. I'm sure no one heard." As I glanced around the hallway, I thought maybe he was right. Everyone seemed to be going about their morning, rushing to classes meeting up with friends, no one was giving me a second glance anymore. I took a few deep breaths, I thought back to my session with Dr. Meyer and pointed out five things in the hallway. There was the one grey floor tile amidst all of the white ones, the locker that Kyle shoved my head into last week, the rich girl with her Louis Vuitton tote bag and custom rhinestone Starbucks cup, the flyers about buying a yearbook, and last I noticed the pride flag advertising the schools Gay Straight Alliance. By the time I got to the fifth item I felt calmer, I didn't want to cry anymore at least.

"I really, really do not want to be here," I sighed as we continued to walk to class. I grabbed the rubber band around my wrist and snapped it against it repeatedly. Trent reached out for my hand and laced it with his, keeping me from hurting myself further.

"I know baby, but you can get through it." We paused outside of my biology class. For the first time since Kyle harassed us, I looked up to meet Trent's emerald eyes. He smiled and I melted, feeling instantly calmer. I wondered how he was coping with all of this, with being with me. This is definitely not what he signed up for, or anything that he thought he was getting himself involved in. I felt guilty. It seemed that I was always taking more than I was giving him. I didn't like to feel like a burden, it's why I never told anyone about all of this before.

"I'll see you at lunch," I mumbled flatly before heading into biology. Trent tried to call after me, but I didn't turn around, my guilt was almost too much to bear and if I looked back at him if would crush me.

Ms. Reynolds tried to ask if I was okay, and I simply refused to respond. She started her lesson on miosis or DNA or whatever the fuck. I couldn't be bothered to pay attention today. My attention was consumed by trying to calm my nerves. Every time a student glanced back in my direction my chest tightened. Adam's arrest had been the breaking news all weekend. Everyone was shocked that our quaint suburban town had a pedophile in its midst. All weekend there were strangers driving by our house, taking pictures and gawking at the site where the monster was arrested. Pictures of police escorting Adam out of our house made every front page, our local news anchors had it as breaking news at the top of the hour. Reporters relentlessly rang our doorbell for days trying to get someone to make a comment. I don't know exactly how reporters found out, I imagine that they were listening to the police radio, or someone inside the police station tipped them off. But there was nothing the media loved more than a story that was sure to get people riled up. And what better to catch the attention of suburban white moms like a pedophile? It's great for the image of the police department too, it'll really get the "all lives matter" crew worked up. I was disgusted at what my abuse had been turned into by the media. I just wanted privacy to recover, instead I couldn't turn on the tv without being reminded of Adam.

Thankfully my name is left out of all of these articles, I'm a minor and journalists have some standards. But given that every news segment is filmed outside of my house, and the pictures of Adam's arrest were taken on my front lawn, everyone had it figured out. I was forever going to be a victim in everyone's eyes. The thought of sympathetic looks and sad smiles for the rest of my life made me want to walk myself into traffic. I couldn't be pitied forever, I just couldn't.

I managed to make it through the morning without having a full-on breakdown. I mostly put my head down and slept through all of my classes. My teachers couldn't bring themselves to wake me, even they took pity on me. I was dreading lunch, dreading facing Trent now that the guilt had set it. He saw me before I even noticed him. As I walked through the cafeteria, I felt his eyes on me before I could bring mine to meet his. When I did his smile instantly fell, he could sense there was something wrong.

"Grayson?" Trent asked as I pushed food around my tray. "Are you okay?"

"F-fine," I stuttered.

"Gray, please talk to me," he pleaded.

"You're already d-dealing with s-so much."

"Is that what this is about? Babe, I want you to talk to me about this stuff. Don't be afraid of putting too much on me. Whatever I've got going on is nothing compared to what's going on with you. I don't want you to go through this alone," he took my hand in his and gently stroked the back of my hand.

"B-but it's st-still a lot to d-deal with, that you didn't s-sign up for."

"Gray, I might not have known all of this when I first met you, but there is nothing that could make me change my mind about you. I want you to talk to me, I want to know how you're feeling, what you're going through. I want to help you."

"I don't know if it's possible to help me," I laughed.

"Don't say that," Trent said sternly.

"Sorry, h-habit."

"Grayson, please don't ever feel like you're going to burden me."

"Th-then promise me s-something?"

"Anything."

"If i-it's too much... tell me? If you c-can't handle it, let me know?"

"I promise." He smiled as his thumb gently stroked the back of my hand. "Now, how are you?"

"Tired, even th-though I slept through m-most of the day," I laughed.

"Grayson Daniels slept through his classes? I'm shocked!"

"One perk of being the victim, n-no one can t-tell me no."

"I think you deserve to be cut some slack. I'm really proud of you for sticking it out today," Trent smiled at me. I just returned a weak smile and forced myself to eat some of my lunch. As I glanced around the cafeteria it seemed to be business as usual. No one was looking at me, there were no points or whispers, it seemed like I was yesterday's news at this point in the day.

My story quickly became yesterday's news actually. It was the second or third day back when I realized no one gave a shit anymore. Much like no one is ever taught how to deal with their own trauma, no one knows how to deal with other's trauma. It was spectacle for a few days, and then everyone became cognizant of the fact that they were discussing sexual abuse. No one likes to talk about the darker parts of life for too long. In this case it worked out well for me, because I could go back to being invisible and struggle in peace.