Teenage Troubles (Prequel for Teenage Baby)

Chapter 11 | Leo

"What, Leo?"

"You. You're shit."

Amy wasn't offended. She knew he was only trying words, using them because he'd heard them a lot and like a child he couldn't keep them in his head. Wasn't the first time, surely not the last time. But she noticed that he seemed to repeat everything except bad—that, Leo'd never said to her.

"You're a piece of shit," Leo leisurely repeated to himself as he let his eyes focus on the coloring book and crayons again. He sprawled down, making himself comfortable against the floor, and mumbled something entirely unattainable.

Amy watched his lips move, part and close, part and close, but she couldn't make out anything of it. "Leo, stop saying shit. It's not a nice word."

Leo had already lost interest. He mused whether he'd use blue or red which he'd learnt long ago because it was the color of the blood that leaked from his wounds. Jayden had said, red like your blood! The blue crayon slipped from Leo and rolled down across the planks only to be bump and stop against Jayden's shoe which had just stepped in.

"My blue." Leo looked up at his dad through his lashes with his shoulders tilted forwards and a hand against the floor. He reached forward and tried grasping the crayon but Jayden was faster. He stepped on it, purposely crushing it beneath his shoes until it turned dirty powder. When he gazed forwards again to catch the reaction, Leo was frowning at him like he'd been robbed. "Why!"

"Because I want to." Jayden gazed at the red crayon on the floor just as Leo did. Both watched it. Leo jerked forwards and tried gripping it but like last time, Jayden's hand, big and rough, snatched it faster. He held it down by his hip with a sick grin on his lips. There was something so satisfying about watching Leo's face twist hurtfully. "I'll be taking this. Have fun coloring with no crayons."

"My crayons." Leo crossed his arms, watching his dad leave. He looked back at the paper, half colored and half colorless. It'd been too exciting for him, the only thing he'd keep doing for hours without losing interest. He sprawled down again on his stomach with an elbow into the floor and fist into his cheek. His thin shoulders deflated in defeat. He blinked, slowly, and sighed. "Wanna color."

The sound that he made right after he'd spoken broke Amy's heart, a cry and whimper combined like a puppy that'd taken been from its mother and thrown aside.

Leo looked up. "Have more crayons, Amy?"

The hope in his eyes was far too painful to watch. Especially when she knew she'd only be disappointing him further with her answer. "No, Leo, I'm sorry."

He pouted, thick lashes downcast. Amy scooted forwards and crouched beside him. "Don't cry, please," she coaxed, one hand messing with the tips of his unkempt hair. It wasn't exactly curly but with the lack of care it'd turned coarse, ends rough and split. "Do you want me to play with your hair? I'll do anything, just don't be sad. If you want I'll scratch your back."

She didn't do that right. Leo liked it but most of the time her nail went over a wound and he'd scream. "No." He jerked away from her then let his head drop on the floor, tipping his chin up so he could look up through his lashes at the coloring book.

No more crayons, no more coloring. But if he could make ones...

It was startling how fast he went from sprawled down half dead to moving his torso until he was sitting upright, blue eyes wide and alert like he'd seen the unspeakable or thought of it. Amy would've worried if she didn't notice the edge of his ruby lips twist up a little, then a bit more. She knew he had something in mind.

Leo pressed a hand to the floor as he forced himself to his knees then up to his feet. When he stood like that, full length, back facing her, Amy cringed. She could almost see the ghost of bones at the base of his neck and the ridges of his spine protruding subtly though sickly white and scar-strewn skin. She thought, he's not gonna live long. A couple of years until his body would shut down on him if no one saved him. Maybe that was better for him.