"You don't sound like a guy." His sweaty, meaty hand cupped my groin and gently squeezed. "And you certainly don't feel like a guy!" he slurred, dropl...ts of spit landing in my flowing, yet scraggily red hair. He bent over and met me eye to eye, stunning emerald green to drunken bloodshot. It was now his turn to whisper, "I wonder how you taste?" I stood stoically, my face streaked with tears. "Oh, the big man is crying, is he?" Gathering all my confidence, I said in a firm voice, "Leave me. He'd come along and invaded my life and then made me hate him. It was obvious that the most beautiful boy I'd ever met hated me, his behaviour to that point was inexcusable. Eight days later he had still only said twelve words to me. Every time he saw me he scowled. I saw him at lunch chatting and joking with the sports boys, but if he caught sight of me his eyes went black and hard as flint.Avoiding him wasn't an option, and after the second time he barged past me in the art room, knocking my. More

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