I stared at the red bench biting my lip softly. The words of the superintendent of the school district coming to mind.
     "Although this bench is meant only for elementary kids, we are setting up benches in every school, regardless of age. So the middle and high schools will also be getting at least one bench to promote a more inclusive student body."

     I took a deep breath as I continued to stare. I'd watched a couple people go onto that bench over the past couple of weeks, but I knew their circumstances were different.
     They weren't getting severally bullied and beat up by the populars and jocks.
     And I hadn't told anybody.

     I felt guilty about it too! I knew I should have talked to someone... but they all kept threatening me.

     But I couldn't take this anymore. I needed to do something. It was getting harder to handle the abuse on my own.

     So, taking a deep breath, I stood up with my bag and walked over to the bench. Some people glanced at me when I plopped myself down on the red material.
     I saw looks of surprise. After all I was someone constantly seen around since my outfits were... not exactly manly. And I guess some of the people didn't realize that the jocks and preps constantly surrounding me weren't my friends, after all I was on the cheer squad.
     Not because of the popularity! It was because I genuinely liked the sport. I had done gymnastics since a young age after all and adored it.

I sat on the bench for about a minute before one of my well known bullies walked over. I shrunk into my seat. "H-hey," I greeted and they simply stared down at me.
     "You really think this stupid bench will help you make any friends?" He sneered and I bit my lip to keep the trembling down.
     "W-well some other people have been," I responded softly and he laughed loudly.
     "Yeah other people," he shrugs as he crosses his arms. "The difference is you're fucking pathetic!" He spits at me and I flinch. He roughly grips my hair and tilts my head up.
     "You should just go and fucking kill yourself," he snarled before throwing my head down onto the bench and stomping away.

     After a second I hesitantly lifted my head and sat back up. I felt the blood trickling down my nose and grabbed a tissue out of my backpack. Letting my fluffy pink hair fall into my face. I started crying softly, trying to keep myself quiet.

     But I just couldn't.

     My body became wracked with sobs as I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my long red cardigan around myself.
     Some of the girls who had been picking on me with their boyfriends came over to me and echoed the message of me being worthless, a pathetic waste of space, and how I should just kill myself.
     "You're so fucking fake," one says with an audible eye roll. "Such a fucking loser," she says before I feel gum being stuck in my hair. Whimpering softly they howl with laughter and prance off.

     No one came to my aid. They just stared at me before walking away. I felt utterly hopeless sitting their like a little kid.
     And for the half an hour left of lunch nobody came to help me

     The bell rang, signaling to go back to classes, which is when I heard the usual chatter of the punk gang entering the courtyard.
     But instead of scurrying away with the rest of the students I stayed. Sitting on the red buddy bench and staring at the ground like the pathetic loser I was.

     "Who- Wait... Max?" A pair of familiar combat boots with yellow laces appeared on the brick ground beneath me. Those shoes belonged to one man and one man alone. Tyrell Clark, one of the most known punks at the school.
     His pitch black hair, ruby red lips, and eyes so brown they seemed black very fitting for his character. A sharp jaw line complimented his angular features and tall frame. Exclusively he wore band t's, black jackets covered in patches, and tight fitting jeans of the ripped variety. He usually stuck to monochromatic colors with dashes of red. And he always wore the same pair of boots and spiked cuffs around his wrists.
     He was cold hearted and snobby to outsiders, but seemed deeply loyal to his close friends. He wasn't someone to be messed with, which made me worried about why he walked up.

     "Holy fuck..." a deep voice muttered and a pair of battered checkered converse came into view. Black and white doodles all over the sides. Of course, Saint Jimmy. It was a nickname of course, but the name everyone called him. He was another leader of the rebellious types. Muscular and strong, his striking electric blue eyes and sharp teeth matched, a boxy tipped nose and smooth jawline bringing an unknown softness to his look. His clothes being a bit more eccentric compared to Tyrell. He had more colors for sure, but otherwise a rather similar style.

     "Why's he here? And what happened to him?" The more logical one of the leading trio asked as I spotted his shiny pair of boots. Sharp and quick witted was last but certainly not least, Pierce. His first name was Adrien, but his last name was so much more fitting for his personality and devastating tongue that he roasted his inferiors with. He sported button up shirts, ties with various prints, and tight jeans.

     I sniffle softly and reach a hand up to rub at my eyes. Mentally I was preparing myself for the onslaught of hate comments. Surely now that I was vulnerable and alone more people would gladly pick on me.

     But they didn't.
     Instead, Tyrell got down on one knee in front of me. "Hey... why are you crying Max?" He asks softly and more tears fall as I whimper. Tyrell's eyebrows furrowed as he inspects my face. His eyes widened as he abruptly stood up, making me flinch thinking he was gonna shove me over.

     "He's bleeding. His cheek is cut and his nose has crusted blood on it," Tyrel says and Jimmy gasps.
     "What?! Are you serious?" He shouts and I tear up again, pressing my back into the maroon plastic behind me. I didn't mean to but I whimpered and started shaking.
     "Jimmy calm down, you're scaring him," Pierce points out as he kneels down in front of me like Tyrel did. "Max?" He whispers calmly, "Can you look up for me? I just wanna check the injuries."

     I don't know why... but I listened. Looking up my hair hung in front of my red eyes- literally, my iris's are red. It's a extremely rare genetics thing- my bottom lip trembling as I scratched at my knees. I could feel the cut on my cheek bleeding from a girl who scratched me with her dagger like nails. My nose not broken, but blood crusted above my lip from the nostrils.

     "I'm gonna kill whoever did this," Tyrel growls and I start shaking more.
     "Don't hurt me, please don't hurt me," I begged in a choked voice as I started panicking. I couldn't take any more beatings. No more. I just wanted it to stop.
      "Maxie we're not gonna hurt you," Jimmy says sitting down beside me. "In fact I'm more confused about why anyone would hurt you," he says and I start balling again.
     "I'm a freak! No one likes me and- and all I ever was to- to my so called friends was a toy!" I cry out as I scratch more feverishly at my legs.
     "Woah woah calm down," Tyrel says grabbing my hands and pulling them back from my now bleeding legs.
     I could tell I was breathing far to heavily, making myself dizzy from the fast intake of air.

     "We need to get him out of here and to somewhere safe. Now," Pierce says and the other two nod.
     Before I know what's happening I see Tyrell pick up my bag and sling it over his shoulder. I squeak when I feel hands on my shoulders and try to get away.
    "It's okay. It's just me," Jimmy says and I stop struggling. "Can I pick you up? You seem to shaky to walk," he points out and I nod softly. Slowly realizing they were here to help me.

Tearing up at this I cling onto Jimmy and cry into his shoulder as he held me like a koala or small child. He whispered reassuring words into my ear and I cried all the more. Spilling out my feelings from the past year or so.

     The three boys walked to the front office and waltzed in.
     "Hello boys what can I do... for," the receptionist spotted me and my belongings in the hands of the punks. "What happened to Max? He's okay right?" She asks like it was the most obvious question in the world. She regularly saw me because I would come in early to help around the office, and occasionally I asked for bandaids for "practice accidents".

     "I'm afraid he's not Mrs. Logan. We found Max crying on the buddy bench with several wounds. We do not yet know who inflicted these upon him, but we are concerned both with his physical and mental safety," Pierce says as I glance at him before burying my face back in Jimmy's shoulder. "So we'll just be signing him out and going home to take care of him," he says.
     Mrs. Logan nods. "Alright, but I'll have to call his parents to check-"

    "NO!" I shout in alarm. "Please, please don't call them. I-I don't want them to know. I don't want them to worry," I stutter as I feel panic overtake me and cause my vision to go spotty.
     Tyrel whirled around and gently rubbed my back. "Ssshhh shh sh. It's okay, you're safe," he says and I shake my head rapidly.
     "M-m-my p-parents will be worried! I-I can't do that to them! They'll blame themselves and-and it's not their fault!" I cry and Jimmy effortlessly shifts me into Tyrell's arms as I sob again. "J-Jared's gonna hurt me if he finds out. And-and Gene and Scott and Frederick," I list off worriedly, not noticing Mrs.Logan writing down the names.
     "Oh god and Sarah and her cronies. They already tried to shove me down the stairs," I say as I shake from head to toe. "And Tiffany might take Jenny and the girls side over mine and then I'll be kicked off the team and I-I-"

     "You can go," Mrs.Logan cuts in. "Just keep him safe, and contact his parents when you can," she says to the other two and I'm quickly carried out.
     "Maxie it's okay, we're gonna keep you safe," Tyrell whispers to me as I grip onto his shirt for dear life as I have my panic attack. Feeling embarrassed as I shook like a leaf and mumbled under my breath.

     Saint Jimmy, Tyrell, and Pierce rush me out to their car and set me down in the middle. Pierce gets in the drivers seat while the other two buckle me in and sit beside me. With their encouraging words I slowly calmed down. My tears slowly coming to a stop.

     "Wh-why are you guys helping me? I'm just some stupid cheerleader," I ask and they all reply with strong answers.
     "Don't you dare call yourself stupid," Tyrell growls wrapping his arms around my waist.
     "You're incredibly kind and smart," Jimmy coos holding my hand and squeezing it.
     "Correct. Regardless of your labels you are kindhearted and sweet," Pierce says glancing back at me. "And for that I admire you."

     Blushing at all the praise I feel Tyrell's arms pull away to grab a first aid kit. He opened it and got out some anti septic spray. "Close your eyes and mouth," he orders and I do so, he sprays it on my cheek and nose making me wince in pain. He dabs with a cloth before putting some cream on my cheek and putting a bandaid over it. Tyrell took more time cleaning my nose with a cotton swab and I stayed still.
     Jimmy slipped his hands around my wrist and rested his chin on my shoulder. "Feeling better?" He asks and I nod a little. "Good," he says holding me comfortingly.

     Pierce continued to drive as Tyrell tended to my cuts. "We'll have to wait til we get home to get the gum out of your hair," he tells me and I nod.
     "Why..." I murmur softly before speaking louder. "Why are you guys helping me?"
     "Well we- this is gonna sound creepy but, we've all liked you for a long time," Jimmy says and I glance over my shoulder him.
     "O-oh?"
     "But most importantly we think you're sweet, and we didn't like you hanging around the jocks and stupid populars. If we had know you were being bullied..." Tyrell trailed off as he started getting angrier. He clenched his fists. "I'm gonna fucking beat up anyone who's touched you," he growls.
     "Ty we need to focus on protecting Max, not starting problems that could worsen the situation," Pierce said before smirking softly. "Although I would like nothing more than to gut those fuckers who hurt our poor baby."

     Blushing bright red I shift nervously in my seat. "S-so... are you guys just wanting sex?" I ask sounding a bit dejected.
     "No no of course not!" Jimmy says quickly. "Baby has someone been using you like that?" He whispers worriedly and I nod as I tear up.
     "Y-yeah... the guys on the football team make me... do stuff a lot," I say shyly and Tyrell growls again.
     "Fucking nasty rapists," he mutters and I look down at my feet. My shoes red and black checkered to go with the black jean shorts and Daddy's Little Monster jersey I had on under the red cardigan.

     "When was the last time they touched you?" Pierce asks and my eyes dart to his figure in the front seat.
     "Th-this morning," I whisper softly in shame. "They made me... two of them made me suck them off... only one of them fucked me today," I say as Tyrell gets tenser and growls.
     "Please don't be mad at me," I say under my breath and Tyrell quickly relaxes.
     "Baby I'm not mad at you. It's those stupid jocks fault for abusing you like a bunch of senseless animals."
     I nod softly before leaning into Jimmy's touch.

     "Ah shit. I forgot about your leg," Tyrell says as he reopens the first aid. "Can you set your leg here for me Maxie?" He coos and I nod softly before effortlessly stretching my leg out. My shorts creeping up my thighs.
     But none of them creepily stare like the jocks did. It was a rather refreshing feeling not to be eye fucked for my attire.

     Feeling safe I relax in Jimmy's hold and rest my head against his chest. He hums softly and I look up at him. His gorgeous blue eyes staring back at me. I blink before feeling myself get sleepy and shift a little so I can doze off in his arms.

(Time Skip wears the same outfit and makes POV blush furiously)

Max's POV:

     I woke up in my bed. Confused I lift my head and run my fingers through my hair. It was fluffy as usual. Panicking I look down at my clothes to see I was still in the same outfit I had gone to school in.
     Hearing faint voices downstairs I stand up to investigate. My feet softly padded across the wood flooring as I stepped into the kitchen.

     "And no one knew?" My father asked and I see Pierce nod.
     "From what we've gathered he was trying to reach out for help by sitting on the buddy bench... He was looking for a friend," Jimmy says and my mom tears up.
     "My poor baby," she says grabbing a tissue.

     I took another step forward and the floor creaked giving me away.
     "Max, you're awake," Tyrell says standing up. "You should be sleeping still," he says coming over to me and holding my hands
      "I'm- I'm fine," I murmur softly.

      "Honey how come you never told us you went to school with our friends kids?" My mom asks and my eyebrows furrowed before I gasped. "Mr.Pierce! Oh my gosh of course. And-and you must be Maddie's son," I say looking up at Tyrell. "And Jimmy's parents are Parsley and Jasmine!" I say and the three boys look extremely surprised.
     "Wait- how do you know that?" Pierce asks and my dad grins before going to get his favorite photo album off the shelf.
     "You think you're the first generation of punks?" He remarks before flipping the book open to a high school photo of him, mom, and their best friends who still came over to visit. They all looked edgy and cool. Eccentric and fun.

     "Woah," Jimmy says as he looks at the photo before dashing over to me. "This is so perfect!" He says hugging me close. I groan in pain and he quickly let's go. "Sorry. I forgot about the injuries," he apologizes quickly
     I shook my head. "It's okay," I say rubbing my stomach.

     "Right... Max why didn't you come to us?" My mom asks and I hang my head in shame.
     "I-I didn't want to make you guys worry. And I love cheerleading s-so I didn't want to complain," I stutter and Pierce comes over to comfortingly rub my back.
     "Well... I hope now that you get these lovely boys with you, you won't hang around those awful jocks," My mom groans. "Seemed like fuckin pedophiles anyway," she groans and Tyrell throws his hands into the air.
     "Exactly! They're so gross," he says shivering at the thought.
     "Ugh tell me about it!" My mom says tilting her chair back for a moment. "I remember most of their nasty parents, same disgusting lot," she says and my mouth hung open in surprise.

     "Mom! I didn't know you hated jocks so much," I say and my dad lets out a snort.
     "God and the populars. Christ so many sluts tried to get me to hook up with them and leave your mother," he huffs and my mom pecks his cheek.
     "They just thought you were a punk to look cool," she says with her eyebrows furrowing. "Nasties."

     I was so shocked by this overwhelming information that I didn't notice my phone ringing.
     Jimmy dashed upstairs and came back down with my phone. "Tiffany's calling?" He said with a curious look and my eyes widened.
     "Oh no!" I look at the time and squeak as I quickly answer the phone. "Tif I'm so sorry! Please don't be mad-"
"Maxie why the hell didn't you tell me about the bullying?!" She shouts over the phone with a concerned voice. "Jenny and Sarah were whispering about what they did to you during lunch and I just gave them an earful."

     "S-so I'm not off the team?" I stutter and she gasps.
     "Maxie of course not! You're our shining star and so kind! I don't know why the hell these BITCHES can't put their own petty egos aside!" she shouts over her shoulder before talking to me again. "Take as much time as you need. And don't even think about coming to practice today!"

     Pierce's head snapped over to my phone when he heard that last sentence he growled and I stiffened up. "P-Pierce it's okay! Tiffany's just telling me to take a break," I say to try and soothe him and Tiffany gasps.
     "Pierce?! Oh my gosh so the trio did rescue you! I wasn't sure if I could believe that last part," she says and my eyes widen. "Wait- how many people know about what happened?" I ask worriedly.
     "Oh everyone knows. There's currently a man hunt out right now for the jocks who've been terrorizing you. Half the students are pissed you've been getting hurt," she says and I tear up.
     "They... they care?" I whisper softly.
     Tiffany sighs softly, "oh Maxie, a lot of people care about you. The coaches are fucking pissed, so are the teachers and staff. The superintendent especially!"
     "I... I'll try and be back to school in a few days," I say and Tiffany hums.
      "Take you're time!" She ended the call.

     My hand dropped to my side as I started crying. I buried my face in Tyrell's chest. "They care!" I cry happily  with a mixture of sadness.
"Of course they care. Any decent person would care about you," he says softly as Pierce and Jimmy wrap their arms around me.

     As I stood there and cried I couldn't help feeling content. All of them holding me so close, so lovingly, just felt... right.

(Hit me up if you wanna part 2. I figured it's better to post a half chapter than revisit this over the course of several months)