Mistakes and Decisions (Part 2)
Title: Mistakes and Decisions
Chapter: 1 2
Fandom: Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda/Love, Simon
Pairing: Leah Burke x reader, platonic!Simon Spier x reader
Description: After the Halloween party, you look to start anew, but that proves difficult when the person you’re trying to move on from seems to be absolutely everywhere. It gets worse when one of the friends you seek comfort in has his respect, privacy, and well-being violated in the worst way.
Warnings: cursing, public outing, M*rtin *ddison being his evil self, Simon Spier is sad and that makes everyone else sad
A/N: Part 2 is here! School is back in session and I am crying the gayest of tears- hence why the September chapter is being published now. This part has about as much M*rtin hating as the last chapter so yaaay FUCK M*RTIN. This also puts a lot more attention on the reader and their friendship with Simon, and their transition in friend groups. Hope you enjoy!
Taglist: @fandomsneverdie14 @mcoomcoo @tina20213 @berry-kitten-paws @caelestii-e @sims4ccshopingcart
Months after the Halloween party, you had been trying your best to live a blissful, Martin-free life. You’d been spending more and more time with Simon, Leah, and their friends. Bram and Nick often talked to you about lunchtime snacks or soccer- sometimes even asking you if you could come film their practice. Abby would plan girls nights with you and Leah, seemingly determined to have at least one stereotypical, 90s-teen-movie-esque sleepover. Garrett felt a lot safer about hanging out with you, but he would sometimes still apologize for what happened, still feeling like it was kind of his fault.
Simon was kind and comforting- as always- but something felt off. You’d sometimes notice him slink off into another room, Martin either closely behind or leading the way. You were sorta worried; your first thought on the situation being that either Martin was scheming his way back into your life through Simon, or Simon was dragging Martin away to guarantee he wouldn’t talk to you. Either way you were concerned, but you decided it’d be best not to think much of it, and shook those thoughts out of your head to tune back in to Taylor Metternich’s speech about her Christmas plans.
“-after swimming with dolphins, we fly to Saint Martin for New Years. Anyone else? Christmas in the Caribbean?”
You rolled your eyes, sharing a look with Simon as you folded yet another play program. Simon chuckled slightly before answering Taylor.
“Staying here. We have a classic Spier tradition of French toast on Christmas eve.”
“I’m staying too.”
“I’m going to an unheated vacation house in the middle of nowhere.” your band friend, Cal Price, groaned, “As is our bleak family tradition.”
Before anyone else could answer Taylor, Martin shot out of his seat, “Ow! Ow! Oh, man. Ow.”
“You okay?” Simon asked, clearly unamused.
“Oh, yeah, that’s a papercut.”
“Overdramatic.”
“Um, Simon, do you know where the bandages are?” he asked, leaning in uncomfortably close.
“Uh, yeah.” Simon muttered, turning back to the program in his hand, “They’re in the supply closet.”
“Okay, do you mind showing me?”
At that question, everyone paused and eyed Martin suspiciously. He’s 17 and he can’t find the damn band-aids himself? Before anyone questioned him though, Simon stood with an exasperated sigh. Martin smirked as he watched Simon lead the way.
“He’s like a nurse, this man.”
Everyone was at least a little confused as they watched Simon and Martin slink off into the distance, but no one said anything for the rest of the day. After that, you noticed Martin hanging out with Abby and her friends a lot more, Simon shooting you an apologetic half-smile as you left to sit with Suraj. You saw minor bits of unaddressed tension happening within that friend group, and you were honestly a little surprised that they made it to the homecoming game together.
“Hey, (Y/N)!” Simon called, ushering you over to sit next to Abby on the bleachers, “How’s it going?”
“I’m good.” you smiled, sitting down, “How are you guys?”
“I’m okay.” Abby smiled, leaning the bag in her hands so the opening was closer to you, “Popcorn?”
“Sure, thanks!”
You popped a fistful of popcorn in your mouth as Leah answered your question, “We’re good. Nick and I just came from dinner.”
You almost choked, “Dinner?”
“Yeah, I took Leah out for dumplings. It was a nice date, we had a good time.” Nick answered, “Right, Leah?”
“Yeah, I had a great time.”
Your heart sank at that. You were happy for them, you were, but some part of you was screaming- some part of you was breaking at the idea of Leah going on a date with someone else. You two weren’t joined at the hip, and it wasn’t like you’d told her you liked girls, but that didn’t change the smile that popped onto your face every time she entered the room, or the years of butterflies she never failed to give you...
...before you could ponder any further on the subject, the field’s sound system crackled to life.
“Please stand for the national anthem.”
As everyone stood, Taylor walked up to the platform they’d put down as a stage, “This goes out to all the refugees... and my vocal coach, Monica Lewis. O say can you see, by the dawn's early light, what so proud...” Before she had even finished the first part of the song, the Creekwood mascot ran up to the platform, wrestling the microphone out of Taylor’s hands, “What the hell are you doing?”
Grabbing the mic, the bear ripped the costume’s head off to reveal Martin, “Hi everyone. Uh, sorry to interrupt.”
“Why are we interrupting the national anthem?” You heard Mr. Worth ask uncertainly.
“But I have something to say... that's a little more important than the national anthem. No offense, America. Abigail Katherine Susso…”
As he said that, Abby squeezed herself between you and Simon, and you could have sworn you’d heard her whisper, “How does he know my middle name?”
“-when you transferred to Creekwood High School, just a short three and a half months ago, you not only transferred into a new school, you transferred your way into a new heart, belonging to me. My heart. Right here. And whether it was being your partner in pong, or your Waffle House warrior, I have cherished the 135,300 minutes that we've spent together. Oh, I'm sorry. 135,301 minutes. And I know that you're this smart, talented, perfect creature. And, uh, I'm just a sweaty schlub in a bear costume. But like old Bogie used to say, it's a ‘crazy mixed-up world.’ So, Abby, without further ado... will you go out with me?”
With every word he said, Abby sunk further and further into you and Simon, but she reluctantly sat up to go answer him. Some random crowd member shouted “she’s too hot for you, assface” as she squeezed her way to the front of the bleachers.
“Martin, I am so sorry, I don’t feel that way about you.”
“You don’t?”
“No. But I really like hanging out with you and I don’t know, maybe we could still be friends, you know?”
“Yeah.”
In that moment, your phone buzzed. As you pulled it out of your pocket, you saw a notification from a walkie-talkie app that Martin had made you get ages ago. You opened the app to hear Suraj’s voice on the other end.
“What did she say? Should I release them?”
“Them?” You asked quietly, “Suraj, does Martin have birds prepared for this or something?”
“Doves, yeah. I have no clue where he got ‘em tho-”
“Suraj.” You sighed, deciding that now would be when you got your revenge, “Release the doves.”
After a couple of seconds, you heard soft gasps from a few places, and Leah was one of them, “Are those doves?”
“No, no, hey, hey! Suraj! Hey! No, no! She said no!” Martin cried, waving his arms wildly, which Suraj took to mean ‘open the other cage’, “No, don't!”
The crowd started laughing as the second set of doves flew away, and you heard Nick mutter to Simon, “Yo, I thought you said she liked him.”
“She might’ve.” You answered, “But the humiliation he just put her through probably ruined it.”
“Not the ceremonious dove launch I was hoping for. But still uplifting to free some birds. Yeah. Okay, uh... Enjoy the game.” Martin was clearly trying to remain positive, but everyone was more focused on Abby’s feelings.
“That was terrible.” She muttered, sitting back down between you and Simon.
“Are you okay?” You asked, suddenly regretting the dove decision.
“Yeah. It’s nice that Suraj released the doves even when I said no. Expose Martin for going way too big for something like this, ruin his moment, save those poor birds.” She smiled at you, but her eyes showed she was kinda uncomfortable.
“Don’t worry.” Simon assured her, “People will get over it in a few weeks.”
Contrary to what Simon predicted, the whole incident had become a massive meme on CreeksSecrets and although Abby hadn’t had to deal with it since a week after it happened, Martin had been mocked online well into Christmas break. However, that wasn’t the worst possible thing to happen over Christmas break. Less than a week before the actual holiday, you logged onto Tumblr and decided to check the school blog, but your heart dropped straight into your stomach as you read the words that first showed up on the screen:
Dear fellow Creekwood students, Simon Spier has a secret male pen pal. Because he's gay. Interested parties may contact him directly to discuss arrangements for butt sex. Ladies need not apply. We should all probably be talking about this instead of Martin Addison's homecoming debacle which was actually kind of sweet, and romantic, if you think about it. Sincerely, Anonymous.
Immediately, you grabbed your phone and texted Simon. You weren’t sure what approach to take, so you decided to act like nothing was wrong.
I just made cookies, want some? :)
You waited for an answer, but two hours later, he still hadn’t replied. You decided to call him, but it went to voicemail.
“Hey, this is Simon. I can’t make it to the phone right now, but you know what to do.”
“Hey, Simon, it’s me. I just wanted to check in. I know it’s barely been a week since school got out but I miss you, buddy. I have cookies, and I, uh, I know you’re having a tough time right now, so please just call me back. I love you, Simon, and I wanna help. Please let me. Okay, uh, merry Christmas. Call me back. Bye.”
You’d placed your call at 8pm, and refused to go to sleep until he answered you- but he didn’t. He didn’t text or call you back all night, and once you realized he probably never would, you took a long nap before getting to work. You got dressed, grabbed the box of cookies off the counter (yes, you’d told him you baked them but you didn’t actually have time for that right now), threw the cookies and all Simon’s favourite things from your house into a messenger bag, and biked your way to the Spier household. Mrs. Spier opened the door when you knocked.
“(Y/N)! Good to see you! How’s your Christmas break?” she cheered.
“It’s good, Mrs. Spier, thanks.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, but, um, is Simon home?” You asked, not meaning to be rude but worrying more about your friend than the conversation.
“Oh, yeah, he’s just upstairs. Come on in.” She held the door open for you as you entered, “I think something may have happened though, he’s been in his room since yesterday.”
“Oh.” You said, acting as though you knew nothing, “Is it okay if I go up and check on him?”
“Oh, yes, of course, sweetheart. Go on up, just make sure to knock before you go in, okay?”
“Of course.”
With that, you ran up the stairs and navigated your way to Simon’s room, using the vague memory of the night after Bram’s to guide you. Suddenly, a room opened up, and Simon’s sister stepped out, stopping when she saw you.
“Hey, (Y/N), right? You’re Simon’s friend?” she asked.
“Yeah. You’re Nora, right?”
“That’s me.” She smiled weakly, “Are you here about the post?”
Your stance fell, and a solemn silence fell briefly between the two of you, “I’m just here to make sure he’s okay. What he went through- what he’s going through- is terrible, but he shouldn’t have to go through it alone.”
She nodded, gesturing to a door a little ways away from you two, “That one’s his. And thank you, for doing this for him.”
You offered her a smile, and headed straight for Simon. You knocked on the door and his voice very weakly answered from the other side.
“I’ll be down in a minute, mom.”
“I’m not your mom, Simon, it’s me.”
Almost immediately, the door flew open, and a very red-eyed Simon stood practically looming over you, a look of shock and confusion etched on his face. You could tell he had been crying, so you pulled the cookies out of your bag.
“I brought you some cookies.”
With that, Simon visibly untensed, taking the box from you slowly and stepping a side to silently invite you in. You were both silent for a while, just sitting on his floor, until he cleared his throat.
“So, I take it you saw the post?”
“Yeah, I did.” you nodded slowly, “I wanted to come make sure you’re okay. I can’t imagine what I’d do if someone outed me.”
Your friend’s head whipped toward you so fast you thought he might get whiplash, “Wait- Wait, you’re...” there was a pause, as though he was struggling to get the word out, “...you’re gay too?”
“You bet your ass I am, sweetheart.” you chuckled, “Girls? Perfection.”
Simon laughed too, “So you, you can kinda understand what’s going on?”
Your smile fell with those words, “I can’t imagine, Simon. I can’t imagine the pain or the anger or the humiliation that you must be going through.”
Simon frowned at that, staring down at his carpet in defeat, until you put your hand over his, “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to be here for you, no matter what. Wherever this bullshit takes you, Si, I’m there- right by your side.”
“Thanks (Y/N).” your friend smiled, “You’re a really good friend.”
Over the rest of the Christmas break, you talked with Simon almost constantly. You regaled him with tales of your father’s decorating mishaps and your new years adventures with Suraj. He showed you the gifts he’d received and he told you that he still hadn’t talked to anyone else from school; in his defence, no one was making an effort to reach out either. By the time school came back into session, you and Simon were closer than ever, but with his other friends- not so much. You even saw him get out of the car alone when he arrived, so you ran up to make sure everything was okay.
“They didn’t want a ride this morning.” was all he said, but you tried to comfort him as best you could.
The rest of the morning was a painful blur. Sneers and whispers were thrown at Simon from all directions, but you were the only person who made direct eye contact with him all day. His so-called friends avoided him like the plague, and lunch made it much, much worse. Everything was fine, just you and Simon eating at a table by yourselves, until sudden music came blaring into the cafeteria. Two assholes- Aaron and Spencer, if you remember correctly- came skipping into the café, one dressed normally and one dressed in a wig and scarf (clearly mocking Ethan, Creekwood’s first out gay kid). They got up on one of the tables and started dancing and making obscene gestures, mocking Simon directly but dragging Ethan into it as well. Rage bubbled up inside you, but Simon got up first.
“You have something you wanna say to me?” he roared, marching up to their table, “I said do you have something to say to me?”
Ms. Albright came up behind Simon, grabbing the speaker that was blaring music and turning it off.
“Hey, Ms. Albright.” The one dressed as Ethan smiled, but his smile quickly fell as her glare hardened.
“Don't ‘Hey, Ms. Albright’ me. We're not friends. You're not gonna braid my hair or paint my nails. Get your ass off the table now! You sweaty, hormonal virgins. You know what? You're about to be suspended for so long, that by the time it's over, you're gonna be the fat, bald, unhappily married, wildly mediocre nobodies you're destined to become.”
“You can't talk to us like that!”
“Actually, I can, 'cause I just did. And you know why? Because you're just those two assholes that did that shitty thing in front of the whole school. And guess what? Nobody feels sorry for those assholes, especially me. Now, walk. Mr. Worth's office now. Bye.”
The boys got off the table slowly, and started walking out of the cafeteria. One tried to get the speaker back from Ms. Albright, but she pulled it away sharply.
“Uh-uh. That's mine now. I'mma sell it. Get my tubes tied.”
“Um, Ms. Alrbight?” you stood, and walked over to her, “May I?”
You gestured to the two assholes as they turned to look at you. Assuming you just wanted to yell at them, Ms. Albright nodded, gesturing for you to continue. You nodded in thanks, walked up to the boys.... and sucker-punched both of them. The entire student body gasped, and at least two teachers ran up to keep you from doing any more damage, but you threw your hands up in mock surrender. You turned around, gave Simon a hug, and started walking to Mr. Worth’s office, throwing your middle finger in the air as you walked out. When you arrived at Mr. Worth’s office, he was initially excited to see you.
“Hey! (Y/N)! Good to see you! How’ve you been? What can I do for you?”
“Ms. Albright sent me.” you said simply, sitting down in one of the chairs across from his desk.
His face scrunched up in concern, “Oh? How come? Everything okay?”
“Aaron and Spencer committed a small hate crime against Simon and Ethan so I decked ‘em.”
Mr. Worth’s eyes widened, “B-by ‘decked em’ you mean...?”
“I punched them so hard they fell over.” You explained simply.
Mr. Worth nodded slowly, clearly still in shock from both what you did and how casual you were being about this. He said that although violence was never the answer, he understood why you did what you did, and he assured you that Aaron and Spencer would get the punishment that they deserved. He explained that because you took violent measures, he’d have to suspend you for at least a couple days, and you explained that that was fine- you knew the consequences when you took action, and you were prepared to deal with them. You and Mr. Worth agreed on a week-long suspension, and he sent you to get your things out of your locker and make arrangements to get homework while he called your parents. You told Suraj everything, having run into him on your way to your locker, and he offered to bring you your homework while you were gone- also mentioning that he’d seen Simon and Ethan entering Mr. Worth’s office earlier. Deciding that you should check on Simon, and that his meeting with Mr. Worth was probably over by now, you ran out to the parking lot to find him. However, when you got out there, the first thing you heard was Martin’s whiny bitching.
“-I got in a lot of shit for Homecoming, and I wanted everyone to focus on something else, you know? I just didn't think it was gonna be a big thing.”
“I don't care if you didn't think that my coming out was gonna be a big thing, Martin!” You heard Simon yell, “Look, you don't get to decide that. I'm supposed to be the one that decides when and where, and how and who knows and how I get to say it. That's supposed to be my thing! And you took that away from me. So, well, can you please just get the fuck away from me?”
You walked out around a car to see Simon storming into his car, and Martin standing there, looking pathetically helpless. With a sigh, he turned around, but stood there gawking when he saw you watching.
“(Y/n), I-”
“It was you.”
“What?” he asked, acting nonchalant but clearly guilty.
“It was you!” you screeched, barrelling towards him, “You’re the pathetic son of a bitch who outed Simon! You did this to him!”
“(Y/n), I can explain-”
“Save it, Addison! I cannot believe you!” You screamed in his face, “You manipulate me and abuse me and treat me like shit! You get called out on it so you just toss me aside like a wet rag! You act sketchy for months, then you humiliate the shit out of poor Abby! And when you were too much of a pussy to deal with the consequences of your own fucking actions, you put Simon’s life at risk because you couldn’t take the fucking heat?”
“Hey, hey, hey! I never abused you!” he held up his hands defensively, “And I didn’t know people still did that stuff-”
“What part of ‘save it, Addison’ did you not understand, mother fucker?” You spat. When he became silent, you continued, “You wanna talk so fucking badly, answer me this, Martin: How the fuck did you get a hold on Simon’s emails?”
He looked down at his feet, “I, uh, used the computer in the library after Simon. His gmail was still up. I read a few of them- ‘cause they were just right there- and I, um, I screenshotted his emails... so he’d help me get with Abby.”
Your eyes widened in rage at that, “You what?”
“I-”
“No, no, asshole. You screenshotted the emails of an innocent kid and threatened to out him in the bible-belt of America, if he didn’t help you get with a girl who’s barely known you for three months- as thought that was a better plan than just fucking talking to her- and then you forcibly outed him anyway when your little plan didn’t work out because, surprise surprise, she didn’t appreciate that you didn’t see her as anything more than a piece of meat for you to parade around!”
As you screamed, Martin got defensive, “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds bad!”
“NO SHIT IT SOUNDS BAD, MOTHER FUCKER, YOU RUINED A KID’S LIFE JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE PATHETIC BUT YOU STILL CAN’T KEEP IT IN YOUR FUCKING PANTS!” you were booming with rage now, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole school could hear you, “As if ruining my life wasn’t enough, you had to rope Simon and Abby into this shit too, you selfish fucking bastard!”
“Ruined your life?” He repeated, as though he didn't hear anything else you said, “We were friends!”
“No, I was your plaything, Martin. Just something to manipulate, and use, and beat up on until something better caught your eye and you could toss me to the curb! Then you’d just pick me back up and do it all over again once you lost interest. I was never your friend! I never mattered to you! I didn’t mean shit to you!”
Martin blubbered trying to find a justifiable way to defend himself, “Why does it matter how I treated you? I bet you never liked me anyway!”
“For fuck’s sake, you were like family. I loved you, Martin!”
“You, you loved me?”
“Yeah, I did.” You spat, opening your car door, “Worst mistake of my fucking life.”
You climbed into the car, slammed the door, and sped off- almost running him over in the process. Not that you cared; the world could do better with less people like Martin Addison.