Scintilla

12. Mountain Laurels

Before

"Aren't you hot," Lucas asks. He gestures toward the sun blaring down on us as we walk home from the bus stop.

"Don't you know that direct exposure to the sun can give you skin problems?" I reply.

He raises his eyebrow in disbelief, "Right. Well, this is the first time you're concerned with the sun and I know how much you hate being hot."

I shrug and move my hands up into an imitation of a scale, both palms facing upwards and moving up and down. "Priorities, I don't want my skin to be damaged."

"What about your face," He retorts eyeing my hoodie. 

Fuck. I feel the sweat pouring down my back. It's oppressive but the fear of being discovered is more important. 

I pull up my hoodie until it covers the top of my head and hangs slightly down my forehead, "Thank you for reminding me!"

Lucas swallows. His brow furrows. He looks at the blazing sun, blinks, and moves his gaze to the floor.

"You don't have to act," He whispers. 

I stop walking, "What?"

"I've been waiting all day for you to tell me what happened last night. I've been watching you at lunch, in class, and on the bus. I tried to find out any difference between today and other days, a sign that you were not okay. And the worst part is that I couldn't. You laughed and smiled. You were as smart and as clever today as on other days. There wasn't a difference besides the hoodie you are wearing in the middle of this heat."

"I don't why you were expecting me to act differently today," I say as worry creeps into my heart. 

As quick as lightning, his hand reaches out to capture mine. He holds my arm still as he quickly pulls up the long sleeves of the hoodie with his other hand. The bruises painted on my arm are vivid, a smattering of deep purples and blacks. The ghost of my father's hand engraved on my skin. 

I pull my arm away, "What did you do that for?"

Lucas steps back. His laugh is bewildered as he runs his hands through his hair. 

"Do you really need to ask," He retorts.

I begin to walk away, my feet almost on the verge of running. 

"Yeah, run away and hide. It's all you know," He exclaims.

Furious, I turn to him and scream, "What do you want Lucas? What's your problem?"

He walks towards me with heavy strides, "My problem? Do you know what I heard this morning as I was walking towards the bus? Nelly was telling Lydia how she heard a huge commotion from your apartment yesterday. How there was so much screaming and glass breaking and how you were crying. She was saying that you got beat up by your father." He pauses once he's in front of me. He's frustrated and infuriated, but most of all the wetness of his eyes speaks of his concern. "And I thought that's bullshit. She's a gossip and a liar. And I saw you at the bus stop and you were acting like you do any other day. It's bullshit because you would tell me if something was wrong, right? It's bullshit because I should be able to tell when you feel bad when something's gone wrong. But it isn't bullshit because you didn't say anything, you didn't act differently, but something did happen."