Secondhand Girlfriend

.12

"Awe, poor lil white boy, sad yo girl left you," Landon chides, setting his tray down on the table.

"Look you fucking mutt, I don't have time for your shit today," I bark, crumbling my empty milk carton.

And that was all it took for us to end up on top of the lunch room table in a flurry of fists and curses. I have been waiting so fucking long for this day, and now that it's here, I don't have the energy for it. My body is exhausted physically and emotionally, so to be quite honest my heart wasn't really into this fight. Landon easily overpowered me, repeatedly hitting me in my face while I meekly tried to defend myself, but not doing a good job of it. So I just give up and take my beating, and when I give up I feel his body being yanked away from mine as I just lie on top of the table. My tongue darts out to taste the scarlett liquid drizzling from burst lip, and the copper taste of it is welcomed. I deserve it, I shouldn't have called him a mutt; Landon isn't exactly proud to say his father is white.

Slowly I sit up from the table, holding my throbbing head in the process and close my eyes. How am I going to explain this to my parents, especially my mother (who thinks her son can do no wrong). My god-complexion is slowly withering away, and I am realising that I am no closer to a god than I am to being a doctor. Would a god take his best friend's love of their life (excluding all of Greek Mythology) from them?

"Kieran, hey, are you okay," a feminine voices asks.

Looking up in the direction of the sound, I am faced with Selena standing to my direct left. Her black hair falls over her shoulder and she twirls the bottom as she waits for my response. Unlike the rest of my group, Selena has only just joined us a year ago, so I don't truly know her that well. Occasionally we have had conversations, but they mostly revolved around what our group was doing. For her to speak to me now is a bit baffling, but I still nod my head at her question.

The cafeteria is eerily quiet as Selena sits down next to me, and I survey the area which of course causes plenty of heads to turn. Slowly people begin to talk amongst themselves, and I know it's about me. Landon is nowhere in sight, nor is the rest of our group and I wonder my best friends could have gone. I remember seeing them in line before I sat down, but now they're nowhere to be found. Trying to move as little as possible, I slowly slide off of the table, completely ready to leave Selena behind.

"Kie, wa-" she begins, but I cut her off.

My eyes narrow at her as I take a step toward her, with my face centimetres from hers, I let out a low growl, "Don't call me that."

"I'm sorry, you seem to like it when Lisanna called you it, so I just thought..."

"Are you Lisanna," Selena shakes her head, and I continue my little rant, "Then by no means is it ever okay for you to call me that. Kieran, or that other godforsaken name, hell even Kal; do not call me Kie."

With that, I stalk out of the caferteria and to the nurses office. I pass the main office and I see Wyatt standing at the front desk. Stopping in my tracks, I try to decide whether of not I should go talk to him but he makes the decision for me when her turns around. His eyes lock with mine which makes his widen as he takes in my face, causing him to rush out of the office.

He is about to reach up to grab my face, but I give him a very pointed glare and he drops his hand. Still tilting his head side to side, he glances over my face and then waits for me to say something. Always the leader, the person who doesn't speak unless necessary, in the conversation.

"Took an L from Landon, I thought I saw you in the lunchroom before it happened," I say, the last portion raised as more of a question.

Wyatt shakes his head as he gestures for us to begin walking, and I wonder when he became the silent one in this relationship. There's something wrong with him, beside just not wanting to talk, he isn't quiet because he feels like it. Not yet ready to press the issue, we walk quietly down the corridor until we reach my destination. I stop in front of the door to turn toward him, and he has this look on his face that doesn't sit with me. Because I can't tell if he is looking at me with pity in his eyes or if he is just genuinely upset about something.