This Rose Bleeds (boyxboy)

Chapter ~Four~

I waited for class to begin. I was exhausted. I stayed up late cleaning the house, and then woke up early just to get to school before Marcus and Jonah. I’ve done this for the past two days. Ms. Richmond seemed surprised to see me this early again as well and asked if I was getting enough sleep, pointing out the circles under my eyes were deeper than usual this morning.
            I waited in my desk with my head resting on my arms. I was tired, but hopefully by the end of the day I’d have enough motivation to go to work. I groaned. Then I have to go tutor the idiot, then go home and clean the mess I made this morning when rushing to school.
            After endless minutes of waiting, the bell finally rang and the students reluctantly filed in. I noticed Ryder come in with the two other soccer players I know quite well.
            He scanned the seats and when he found me, stopped. I cocked an eyebrow as though saying–see? I wasn’t lying. He didn’t make any acknowledgment though. He kept an indifferent face and continued walking toward his own desk with his friends.
            Markus nudged Jonah and they looked in my direction. Their expression told me to look out.
            So I did. After class I rushed hoping to get to Science without hassle.
            I’m seriously kidding myself.
            A hand shot out from the janitors closet and my vision went dark from lack of light. Two people, I sensed, had ambushed me. I had a sickening feeling I knew who those two were.
            One of the fists found my stomach in the dark. It was amazing they could still aim just fine without vision. Something slammed into my face and I fell back with a crash against the wall. They resulted to kicking. At first it hurt but soon I was too numb to notice. But I did notice when they began using the brooms.
            The wooden end struck my back then jabbed at my ribs. It hurt. It felt like it did five years ago when I was ten.
            When the seemingly endless beating ceased I opened an eyes. Two shadowed figures could be made out in the dark room.
            “Take that Strauss.” I heard Jonah spat. The door opened and their figures retreated into the light.
            The breath slowly entered my lungs again and I became aware of the throbbing pain. I couldn’t move, even if I dared. So I just lay there in the dark. Sometime time later I fell asleep and I was grateful. In sleep, you can’t really feel the pain. So when the annoying bell rang I was jolted awake and groaning.
            I used the wall as a guide to get up and found the door. My ribs were screeching, not as loud as my right hand. I opened the door and instantly received a headache from the sudden light. I forced myself to walk through the hallway at a brisk pace. My limp was worse than the day before.
            I checked my watch. I was late–really late. Say, thirty minutes?
            I felt like sobbing, but as usual I never had the time. I couldn’t run but did my best to quick walk the blocks to the café.
            I avoided Kristy and went through the back. I shut the bathroom door behind me and looked at my reflection. There was a nasty scratch on my cheek. I hope it wouldn’t affect my host image. I cleaned away the blood and took off my shirt. It was way worse. Bruises were added to my already scared back and torso. I pulled on the uniform and again felt the throbbing in my fingers.
            I went out to the front and easily hid my limp. I found Kristy making a beeline for me.
            “Where have you been?” She asked.
            “Sorry, I got distracted at school.”
            But she didn’t look mad. She looked angry.
            “Why is your face scratched?” She asked. She looked in my eyes. “Nathan, did you get in a fight? With who?”
            It’s not really a fight when I stand no chance. “I’m fine. Sorry I’m late. What tables do you want me to take?”
            “If your not feeling well, I can take–”
            “Kristy,” I showed my fake smile I was so good at and laughed. “Are you trying to take my customers? Come on. Looks like it’s getting busy.”
            She looked at me doubtfully and slightly offended. “Take the booths.”
            I nodded and walked off, but she called quietly, “You’re even limping!”
            I ignored her and walked up to the booth. “Good evening, my names Nathan and I’ll be your host for today. What would you be having today?” My smile played on my lips as I kept my head down and focused on my notepad. I didn’t want any of the customers to notice the scratch.
            “Who knew Strauss worked at a fag café.” My head snapped up.
            I really should have looked at whom I was serving. I resisted the urge to run to the back. The three people that occupied the booth were none other than the three leading soccer players.
            One of which I was tutoring after work, and the other two the very people who knocked me unconscious this morning.
            “Makes sense, considering he’s a fag himself.” I flinched at Markus’s comment. Actually, I wasn’t quite sure what a ‘fag’ was.
            The two boys were smirking. I glanced at Ryder. He just stared at me. I forced the smile back on my face and kept up the act. “What will you three have this evening?”
            “Look at that. He actually cleans up quite nicely after what he went through.”
            “Considering what he went through, I doubted he’d be able to walk properly. I swear I saw a limp.”
            “Doesn’t look like he can speak either. Some host. Yeah, good fag should stay silent. He’s more of a…personal maid.” Jonah laughed. “That is how he’s talking to us right now, like he is our maid. Isn’t that right, Ms. Strauss?”
            What was I doing? I was just standing there with my head hung, clutching the notepad. Sure, I was embarrassed these two idiots found out I worked at a café, considering kids shouldn’t even be working. Surely they would hold this against me in the future. I was also mad, but not as much, because I couldn’t do anything. I was supposed to smile and treat them like guests.
            “What will you have this evening?” I repeated with that fake, forced smile and willed my eyes to stay dry.
            “Looks like that’s all he can say.” Jonah taunted. “Look at him, all he can do is smile. Mark, I think we should do something about that–”
            “I’d like a pasta and coke.” Ryder interrupted indifferently as he looked at the menu. Markus and Jonah looked at him as though waiting for him to add something. He seemed to notice when he looked up. He turned to me and added, “Fag.” He interrupted the teasing only to respond with his own. Well, it was expected.
            Of course, I flinched. But I kept myself composed with a smile and turned to the other two. They ordered, but Jonah added a, “Make it quick, Ms. Strauss.”
            I swallowed my pride and walked off to the kitchen. I knew they were watching, and smirking at my limp.
            I returned with their food and drinks. They mostly ignored me as they ate and I worked the surrounding booths. Finally they seemed to have finished eating and was only talking. I reluctantly went over to clear their table.
            They were talking about soccer as I stacked their plates with left over food and half filled cups on a tray. I ignored Jonahs comment, “See, he’d make a good maid.” And balanced the tray carefully in my two hands.
            I turned to walk back to the kitchen but my foot caught on something and suddenly I was sent crashing to the floor. There was a thunderous colliding of dishes to the floor around me.
            I gasped and looked around at the mess. The food and drinks had spilled all over my clothes and floor. Almost all the dishes and glass had shattered. I looked up at Jonah and Marcus who were close to rolling out of the booth, laughing.
            Everyone was staring. Kristy came running over but stopped a few feet away because of the dangerous shards of glass.
            “Nathan, what happened?” She asked. Then she gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. “My god, you’re hands…”
            I ignored the stares and her comments and scrambled to my knees and began hazardously gathering the multitude of shards. My hands were shaking violently.
            “Stop Nathan, you’re bleeding!”
            “I’m sorry. I tripped. Sorry.” I repeated up at her and the surrounding customers. I gathered most of the glass onto the tray and completely ignored my ruined uniform.  I was too embarrassed to look up at a satisfied Jonah. What had I ever done to him?
            I picked up the tray and rushed to get to the kitchen. Kristy followed me into the back.
            I threw away the broken dishes and took the plates that hadn’t shattered to the sink. Kristy stopped me and forced me to slow down and breathe. I was freaking out.
            “Nathan, calm down. Let me look at your hands.” She urged.
            “Its fine.”
            “Will you stop saying that?” She almost shouted. “Look, your bleeding!” She dragged it under the running water and I winced. I just noticed how badly I had hurt my hands. The leftover pasta was still steaming when I took it, so it left some burns. But what was frightening was the blood that slipped from where the glass cut my skin. The kitchen door swung open and an elderly woman burst in.
            Mrs. Clair wasn’t as old as people make her sound. Her face consisted of many lines, but that was natural. She shared the same blond hair as her granddaughter but the top was graying. I couldn’t read her green eyes.
            “Mrs. Clair, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drop the dishes, I tripped and it just…” I trailed off. She bounded over to me and I prepared for a scolding. I was freaking out because I was afraid of being fired. I cannot be fired.
            Instead, she took my hands and examined it carefully.
            “Are you okay?” She asked.
            She took a tweezers and looked skeptically at my hand. She pinched the skin and out came a tiny shiny piece of glass. I was thankful she held my wrist with my sleeves drawn over.
            “I’m sorry about the broken dishes. I’ll pay for it–”
            “Don’t be ridicules Nathan. As long as you’re not hurt, it’s fine.” She shook her head and examined my hands once again. “Though you aren’t one to trip…what happened to your face?”
            “It’s just a scratch.” I muttered.
            She raised an eyebrow at me disbelievingly but dropped the subject. She moved my hands under the water to wash off the remaining blood.
            “I don’t have any bandages–”
            “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.” Badly… I caught sight of the wall clock and widened my eyes. “Shoot, I’m late. Mrs. Clair, I forgot to mention I have another job, so I wont be able to stay late during the week.”
            She smiled kindly. “Julia told me you were tutoring her son. It’s fine, but make sure you still have a life after all these jobs.”
            Adults worry too much. I smiled and went to the back room. Kristy was there and came up to me with wide eyes. “That guy tripped you, didn’t he?”
            “What guy?” I muttered as I retrieved my clothes.
            “In the booth. He was laughing at you.” She seethed. “Is he the one beating you up?”
            “No one’s beating me up, Kris.  I got to hurry, I’m late for tutoring.”
            She backed off a little, and then jumped up again. “Wait, Grandma said you were tutoring Mrs. Kenneth’s son. Wasn’t that him at the table?” She narrowed her eyes. “If he plans any–”
            I laughed. “I think you’re over exaggerating.”
            She stopped and mulled it over. “Yeah probably. After all, only those two guys were laughing. But if you need back up in a fight,” She crossed her arms readily, “You have me.”
            I laughed. What a great friend. Kristy went to a private school across town, so it wasn’t like she saw me other than at work. But we were on good terms, and we look out for each other–ever since she found out about my situation.
            I hated my situation.
            I pushed those thoughts out of mind and changed, then took off out of the café. The throbbing in my leg reminded me I couldn’t run so I slowed down.
            I was so tired. Now I just had to get through two hours of tutoring an idiot.
            Great, just what I needed.
            The size of their house stole my breath just as it had the day before. I would never have imagined myself stepping foot in a house like this. I knocked on the door and it was about three minutes before there was a response.
            Instead of Mrs. Kenneth, a boy maybe one year older than me opened the door. He raised his eyebrows.
            “Yeah?”
            I opened and closed my mouth. “I’m…Ryder’s tutor?”
            He nodded slowly as he looked me up and down, assessing me. “Okay, come in.” He held the door open wider.
            “Are you Ryder’s brother or something?” I asked, though I doubted it. He had black hair and dark eyes, and dressed nicer than someone would at home.
            “Hell no. I’m Mattson, their steward.” He paused and corrected, “Or butler I guess.”
            “Oh.” I said and thought briefly to earlier when Jonah called me a maid. The Kenneth’s were really wealthy. “Nice to meet you.”
            “The pleasures mine.” He smiled easily and winked strangely. “Do you know the way to Mr. Doosh’s room?”
            I bit my lip. Wow, some butler, calling his employer a doosh. “Yeah, I can find my way.” He nodded and left me to trace my steps from yesterday up to the second floor and down the hall. I knocked this time.
            “Who’s it?” An annoyed voice called.
            “Your tutor.” There was some noise on the other side before he called, “Well don’t just stand there.”
            I opened the door slowly afraid he was really annoyed. He was sitting in the beanbag. It looked like he was playing his video games, and only now took out a blank sheet of paper for homework. At least he was willing to work today.
            I didn’t say anything but went to sit on his bed. I didn’t want to go anywhere near someone like him. I already got beat up once, I didn’t want to be a target for two hours.
            I took out my books and a paper. “Question one, x–”
            “Why are you sitting over there?” He asked.
            “Why not?” He frowned at my answer and got up, falling on the opposite end of the bed.
            “I can’t solve it on my own, you can’t help from far away.”
            “Whatever.” I muttered. I looked back at the paper and began solving problems to explain after. For a while we did math, then I helped him with English and Science. Apparently, math wasn’t the only class he had with me. I felt his eyes on me but ignored it. I said as little as possibly and kept my voice monotone the entire lesson. I was offended form his earlier comment, and didn’t care enough to be polite and all smiley.
            “Are your hands okay?” He asked suddenly.
            I shrugged.
            “It looks like it hurts to write.”
            I shrugged again. It hurts because of this morning I was beat up by your friends in a janitors closet and fell on it. Then it had a pretty good shredding fest this afternoon because of the said friends.
            “Why didn’t you get it bandaged? Don’t you dare shrug.”
            Well, he sure it demanding. I didn’t shrug. I didn’t answer either. He should be focusing on work.
            “Jeez, I’m trying to make a conversation but it doesn’t work when you don’t respond.”
            I looked him in the eye and answered indifferently, though I was powerless when I flinched as I forced the word out. “Fags should stay silent, right?”
            He looked shocked and maybe hurt. He glared and took my writing hand, forcing the pencil to fall. He looked at the cuts carefully. I was about to pull away when he noticed, “It’s swollen.”
            “No it’s not.”
            “Yes…” Then unexpectedly he grabbed my other hand to compare the two.
            I freaked and frantically tugged at my hands but that only made my long sleeves fall back. Now I was stock still, praying he wouldn’t notice the one thing I wanted to avoid.
            But of course, nothing ever works out in my favor. And despite how dumb he was, he was observant. While looking back and forth between the two, his eyes traveled beyond my palms’ and rested on my left hand, or, wrist, to be exact.
            “What the hell is that?” He almost shouted and I pulled my hands away with a force that almost sent me falling off the bed.
            “Nothing.” I cowered and pulled down my sleeves.
            He saw, oh god he saw. No one has ever seen.
            “Why are there slits on your wrist?”

_____________________________________

WOOOOAAAHHH!!!! wonder why theres scars? Me too! lol, anyway comment, vote, stab, whatever. 

How do you like Mattson? He's important. How about Ryder? That bipolar jerk. Nathan's awesome right? RIGHT? ANSWER!!!!

Okay, on to the next CHAPTER!!!!