Grave

4.4

Lorcrar prodded the corners of the wound, grimacing a little when his finger made contact. The constant pain had eased, much to his relief. His mind relaxed. But then reality dawned on him. He was sitting in a girl's bathroom. And she was there; she was always there, observing his secrets without even knowing it. He felt her burning presence before him on the cool white tiles, and anxiety stifled his throat.

A buzz sounded from Loura's backpack, and Lorcrar looked up. Loura's eyes bugged, and hastily she began burrowing through her bag. She had been staring at him. Straight hair fell over her face like a curtain as she bent over, and suddenly a familiar image came to Lorcrar, some kind of vision. Like a memory. Loura, her hair strewn with tears. Alone, drowning in the dark. Screaming. A jolt of nausea shot up from the depths of his stomach.

Loura found her phone.
"Hey, what's up? Yeah I'm still at school, why?"The reply from the other end was high-pitched, urgent. Loura rolled her eyes. "They think he knew his attacker, they're not coming after me. And he wasn't murdered, just bashed up. He had it coming, too. Karma is a bitch and she bites- sorry, yeah I know how hate it when I 'swear'"

Lorcrar allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch up, hearing the fake sincerity of her apology.

"Okay, sounds good. See you in a few." She hung up the phone stood up. "So... do you have anything we can use to patch you up now?"
"No. But I'll go to first aid and take some bandages."

Loura furrowed her brow. "And get caught stealing?" She looked at the bite in Lorcrar's flesh and laughed, shaking her head. "This is insane, but it already looks like it's healing up."

Lorcrar nodded. There was barely any pain now. He reached for the bloodied uniform shirt lying beside him. Loura snatched it from his grasp.
"Nope, can't wear that. And by the way, I'm hanging out with my friends soon. You're joining us. Cool?"
"Cool," Lorcrar parroted, resenting the shakiness in his voice even as the word came out. He tried to grab his shirt back but Loura held it out of reach.

"There's no way you can wear this without looking like a psychopath. I think I might..." Her voice trailed off and she rummaged through her bag again, pulling out a black t-shirt. She grinned. "Put it on."

Lorcrar rose from the tiles, taking her shirt cautiously. He pulled it on, and found it was a bit roomy. "Do you often carry men's shirts in your bag?" he asked.
Loura's grin relaxed.
"No. This one I borrowed from a friend. Well, he made me take it once, and I just never gave it back. That's okay, though. He thinks I need his charity."

Then Loura went silent, as if she were embarrassed to reveal anything more. She moved her arm as if to take Lorcrar's hand, but changed her mind and swung it back, turning for the door.

"Come on, let's go."

Lorcrar let himself be led blindly through the town. It occurred to him how alarmingly unfamiliar he was with all the little parks and cafés. Every street was a foreign country. The spring in Loura's step was causing black hairs to fling into his face as he trailed behind her, and each time they touched him the same thought flickered through his mind, over and over.

Why don't I feel the urge to rip out her throat? Why don't I-

He nearly ran into her when she stopped. They were standing at the entrance of The Internet Café. Loura strolled inside and made for the back corner.

The place was mostly empty except for a handful of Melbury School juniors hiding under their oversized laptops. They did not look up as Lorcrar passed. He noticed the peeling wallpaper was decorated with what must have been computer coding. School bullies would not be seen dead in here. It was a safe haven.