Rumor Mill - Phil

Chapter 3

Self harm trigger warning. Just taking precautions.

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My bedroom is one of two rooms in my house with a window. The other is the lounge, and that window is so dirty you can hardly see out. I do well at keeping my room clean, including my window, because at night when I can't sleep, I like to look out the window and envision my life improving. The stars aren't always visible, but those are the nights that my thoughts are in a dream state. Tonight I stare at the raw black sheet of sky and blink, reliving my time with Dan. I feel his hands on my waist, and his lips on my neck, and I get the sick feeling in my gut that it wasn't as special to him as it was to me, and I know that I've been used. 

"Slut," I whisper to myself. I haven't self harmed in about a week, but I find myself in the bathroom staring with eyes of diamond into the mirror, numb to the pain as ruby pours from my skin. 

"Slut," I whisper again as I pull a soft jumper on to hide the cuts and fall into bed, closing my eyes and sleeping almost instantly. 

The next morning I wake up with an ache in my wrists that reminds me of my silent episode the night before. I berate myself for breaking as I dress for school, putting in ear-buds and blasting heavy metal as I leave my house, locking the door behind me. 

The walk to school is quiet and dismal. I thank every deity that it's a cold day, so I can hide my cuts without question. 

I'm walking through the school's gates when I hear my name over my music. Pulling my ear-buds out, I glance around, figuring I was only imagining it. Then I hear it again, louder this time. 

"Phil!" It's Dan's voice. My heart jumps and sinks all at once as I turn to see him strolling up to me. I lean back against a wall, watching him, waiting to hear what he has to say. 

He places a hand on my waist, and I try to keep my face neutral while my heart is beating so fast. "Hey," he says softly. I don't respond, my eyes flickering back and forth between his eyes and the ground. He continues anyway. "I know yesterday was kind of...Shit. I'm sorry."

My brows furrow. "What am I to you, Dan?"

Dan shakes his head. I can see a subtle red mark on his cheek, and I wince remembering how his mother had hit him the night before. "I don't know, Phil." There's a silence, and he pushes my chin up gently so I'll look him in the eyes. "Do you want to get out of here?" 

"What, you mean skip? I--" I had never skipped class in my life. Of course, I had never had a reason, either. But here was a reason now, standing right in front of me, enticing me with gentle touches and deep eyes, and I find myself saying yes.

He grins, leaning in to kiss my cheek, taking hold of my hand and planting placid kisses on my knuckles as he whispers, "Come with me."

I follow him helplessly as he lets go of my hand and paces ahead of me. We don't speak until Dan slows down a bit and falls into pace with me, once we're far from the school. 

"Where are we going?" I ask. Dan smiles, hands in his pockets. 

"Somewhere I go when I need to think," he says with his eyes to the ground. We end up on a bus, where we sit closely, and Dan slips his hand into mine without permission, but I don't object, despite it being the arm that I had mutilated the night before and despite the fact that his touch makes the cuts sting with memory of their cause, and I can see some people glancing at us, some with hints of smiles and others with hints of indifference, but no one with judgment or anger in their eyes, and I wonder if I really do mean something to Dan, and I label the thought as ridiculous because we had only officially met the day before and I was a slut for kissing him like I did and before I know it the bus ride is over and we're standing alone somewhere far from Manchester but he's still holding my hand.