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Another voice followed. “Aw, come on, you little freak.”

More laughter.

I couldn’t see much through the trees. The dock was ahead, half hidden by branches and the morning fog. There were people on it. Three. Maybe four. Someone smaller was on the ground between them.

I stepped off the trail, intending to break up the ruckus. But then…

“Aw, you’re just like them.”

My stomach tightened. Another laugh. Every bit as evil as before.

“I thought you enjoyed another dude touching you, gay boy?”

Everything inside me stopped. A second passed and then I ran. Harder than I ever had.

“HEY!” I shouted.

Heads turned. The figures moved instantly. One concealed boy shoved past another. Someone swore. Two of the hooded figures jumped off the side of the dock and disappeared towards the field that rounded back to the cabins. Another ran straight for the trees.

I hit the dock, my shoes slipping against the damp boards. Trev’s telltale fashion piece was the first thing I saw. It was rolled up in a ball and covered in blood.

“Trevor?”

He was curled against the railing of the dock, his hands hanging off the edge, more blood dripping off his fingertips. The shirt on his body had been stretched sideways, collar half torn. His shorts were dragged partway down his legs and I could see palm prints on his skin. There was mud everywhere. His hands. His bare feet. His bruised face. And he was crying so hard he wasn’t making any sound.

“Trevor,” I whispered.

He jerked when I approached him, even as I tried to shrink myself as much as possible. Nearly falling off the wooden boards in his effort to back away from me.

I stopped immediately. “It’s me, Trevor. Mr. Carter. Alvin.”

His breathing came in short, broken gasps.

“Trevor, it’s...” Okay? Ha, no. It was definitely not okay. “I’m here, my friend. I’m here.”

He looked at me. His face⁠—

Fuck.

There was dirt smeared across one cheek and bloody gashes like somebody had pressed him into the dock for who knew how long.

I pulled off my sweatshirt. “Can I come closer?”

He didn’t answer, just stayed on the edge of the waterline visibly shaking.

I lowered myself slowly beside him anyway, placing the sweatshirt down between us. “I’m putting this here. Okay? It’s cold out, Trev. Try to put that on.”

Trevor stared at it. Then at me again before his fingers shook and he grabbed it. He dragged the fabric over his lap, covering his lower body and the bloody handprints there.

My throat closed. I looked towards the trees. But whoever had been here with him was long gone. “Who was it?” I asked.

Trevor shook his head.

“Give me their names and I promise they’ll pay for this.”

Another shake. “Just please. I can’t…”

I stared at him. “They hurt you. I need their names, Trevor.”