My Boy • II

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Something about night time intrigued me.

Maybe it was the cool, crisp air that floated around. Or the silence, the darkness that seemed to overtake you.

There was only one person I associated with night and I saw him in front of me, a few yards away.

It was almost midnight I guessed, and the streets were empty, yet here Kento was, sitting in a park bench with his head in his hands. He hadn't seen me and I was somewhat thankful for that.

I trudged along the sidewalk, trying to get passed him silently as I replayed the conversation in my head that I had with my mother earlier.

"Sweetheart, I know, but I just want to know if you think you can do this," she stated.

I turned to look at her, "Moma, we've been over this a lot."

She sighed, "Raya, Berkeley isn't that far but I'm more worried about you. I'm paying for you to go to that college in a month but I need to know that you can do it."

"You don't think I can do this? Moma, I got accepted into Berkeley. Obviously, they think I can. I graduated high school ranking over three hundred seniors. What are you trying to say because I don't understand?"

My mother looked down at the counter, setting her mug down, "To be perfectly honest with you, you're not ready. You're so smart though Raya and you proved that to me, but I don't think you're up for college yet."

My eyes narrowed and I swallowed hard, feeling my throat start to constrict, "Well, thanks moma. I'm glad that I have some support from my family."

I had opened the door when my mom reached out toward me, "Ray-"

"Moma. I get it. You don't think I can do this and I'm fine with that." Before I shut the door I turned back to her sad face, "But I'm gonna prove you wrong...again."

All my life, people had been questioning my abilities. I would always get the same reaction out of them: they would look at me, doubt in their eyes, then they would bite their lip, and hesitantly come out with some excuse. But I had proved them all wrong and I loved the looks on their faces when I succeeded in something they didn't want me to do.

"Are you sure you're up for this, honey? It's going to be hard."

Or the time when I went to a student council meeting, people said, "The cheerleaders are down the hall."

I know it's my looks. I'm not stupid, I know I'm pretty but I don't go around flaunting it and throwing it into people faces either. I like to be independent and I don't need a boyfriend to be on my feet.

"Raya." I froze at his voice and looked around, noticing I had made it to the street intersection before he spotted me.

I hadn't heard his voice in what seemed like forever.

I turned around looking at Kento with blank expression on my face. My eyes first darted to the big bruise that had implanted itself on his smooth cheek and I noticed the cut on his lip. His deep dark eyes stared into mine, "What are you doing here? It's late." His voice sounded hoarse and raw.

I walked toward him, my fingers fumbling with the edge of my shirt. "I could say the same thing to you," I responded, my eyes still on his cheek. "I'm actually kinda surprised you're even talking to me."

He shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I wanted to." He rubbed his eyes and I saw him flinch when his fingers came in contact with the bruise.

I sat down beside him, but a good distance away from him as well, "Is it your dad?"

I watched closely at his reactions, already knowing the answer. I watched as his spine stiffened considerably, and how his fist clenched tightly. He exhaled finally and nodded, "Yes. He's still drinking. Hasn't stopped since my mom died."

"But you don't fight back," I stated, feeling pity for the boy that sat next to me.

He shrugged again, "It's pointless." He stopped there and I silently wished for him to say something more. He saw I was looking at him and sighed, "If I fight back, I just get hurt more."

I nodded, understanding and we sat in silence for a few minutes, each of us caught up in our own thoughts. He fished out some cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, taking a drag from it deeply.

I was starting to get uncomfortable and squirmed a bit before asking, "So, which college are you going to?"

He licked his dry lips and I unconsciously watched them, seeing his tongue stop only when he tasted blood. I watched as the smoke rose from his lips as he exhaled, "UCLA. It's only about six or seven hours away." He stopped, "You?"

I cast my eyes to the ground, "Berkeley. I'm staying here."

He just nodded and ran a hand through his hair, bringing the cigarette to his lips again.

I was getting irritated and before I could think, I had snatched the cancer stick from his lips and tossed it to the ground, "That can kill you."

He just looked up at the dark sky, "Unfortunately, it has failed to do its duty."

I frowned and touched his cheek, turning his face toward me, "Don't say that." He just shrugged in response.

"There's nothing to live for anymore. Just more school and work."

I looked down at the cigarette, watching the red tip burn. I remembered when Kento used to be the only friend I ever had, how we were almost inseparable. But that all changed when his mom died from cancer. "What about your writing? I know you love to do that."

"I do," he simply responded. I shook my head. I didn't understand him sometimes, I never would.

More silence passed and I knew my mom would start to worry. I stood up and turned to look at Kento. He spoke, "Are you going to James's party?"

I stopped and looked at him curiously, "Maybe."

He stood up also and I felt small compared to his height, "I'll see you there then."

My lips parted in shock, "You're going?"

His face remained blank as usual, "Might as well. It's probably gonna be the last party I go to for a while." He brought his hand to cup my cheek and for a moment I stiffened, completely caught off guard. "Get some sleep Raya, you're tired and it shows."

He left then, parting in the opposite direction of my home and I just shook my head.

He was unpredictable.

And I was oddly attracted to him.

And I was oddly attracted to him

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