Running From The Past

CHAPTER 2: FIRST IMPRESSIONS

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!"

A boy was sitting in the passenger's seat with the car door that had just hit Tara. His pale blue eyes were wrenched wide open in fear as he spluttered in disbelief and mortification at what he had just done.

"What the hell!" Tara cried as her nose throbbed painfully.

"I-I didn't mean to," he stuttered and dug through the glove compartment for a small packet of tissues to give her.

She snatched the tissues from him and desperately wiped the blood off of her face with hot tears flowing down her makeup-covered face. Mascara was dripping down her cheeks and smudged, making her look like a raccoon. She glared at the boy who looked like he wanted to crawl six feet under the ground.

"Tara, it was an accident." Owen suddenly came to his senses and grasped her arm again to get her attention.

Her jaw dropped. "Owen, he slammed the car door into my face!"

"Yes, and it was an accident," he repeated and took a tissue to help wipe her face, but she shoved him away.

"Are you serious right now? Tell me you're kidding," she spoke, clutching her throbbing nose.

Owen looked over her face. It didn't look broken despite a lot of bleeding. Maybe just a little bruised. Then he looked at the guilty-looking boy with fear leaking off of him that he seemed to be trying his best to contain. Owen couldn't find it in himself to be angry with the boy who came across as so innocent and pure. Owen wasn't known to be a cruel person or bully even if his appearance fit the stereotype. People forgot that sometimes. Despite not knowing each other, he hated that Conan was scared of him. If it were done on purpose then that was different and he'd protect Tara in a heartbeat, but it was an honest accident.

"Tara, please don't be dramatic about this. Let me take you to the nurse." Owen sighed but she shoved him away again when he tried to touch her.

"You know what?" she spat, "I'll walk myself since it seems like I'm on my own here." She angrily stormed away from the two of them, rage echoing off of her.

Owen groaned, knowing he was going to be ignored for the next week again.

"I'm sorry about her, man." He frowned at the boy who gulped nervously. It confused him why he seemed to be almost overwhelmingly afraid, but that was when he noticed how tiny he was compared to Owen. He seemed a bit frail, his legs short and baggy clothes drowning himself. He had soft features that made him look a bit feminine, but Owen found it cute if anything. That's when he realized the boy must've been afraid he'd beat him up.

"I'm not going to hit you or anything," he assured the boy which made him visibly relax. Owen didn't like the way his presence seemed to intimidate the guy so much.

"Oh. Thanks," he spoke quietly.

Owen laughed. "You don't have to thank me for not beating you up."

He gave him a shy smile, getting out of his car and standing in front of Owen. "Well, I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

"Don't worry about it; you didn't mean to," he brushed it off. "Girls are impossible, I swear."

His wide grin gave Owen an odd feeling of satisfaction. He liked knowing he was the one to put it on his delicate face.

"I'm sure she isn't like that all the time."

He shrugged. "That's debatable. She can be a handful sometimes."

He opened his mouth to speak but the bell rang, signaling that everyone had five minutes to get to their class. "Damn," he groaned, "I've got to get going."

An odd, empty feeling filled Owen when he went to leave. Something inside him clawed to get his attention again. He had never seen him before and had a weird urge to talk to him.

"I'm Owen," he introduced loudly.

"Oh, I'm... Conan." His voice was quiet, a few feet of distance between them now.

"Are you new here?" He tilted his head slightly.

The boy nodded and Owen mentally noted how quiet Conan was. Usually, he hated people who couldn't hold a conversation since he was so extroverted himself, but for some reason, he didn't seem to mind it.

"I can walk you to your class if you want," he blurted out before Conan could try to leave again, not wanting the conversation to end.

"It's alright," he said shyly as fidgeted with his hands. "I know where it is."

The truth was that he didn't, but Owen intimidated him and he needed a break to collect his ineffable thoughts. A popular, sporty guy was talking to him. He called him "man". He was actually talking to Conan and seemed interested.

"Are you sure?" His tone sounded disappointed and it baffled Conan.

"Yeah, thank you though," he said meekly and inched closer to the school that he had just been dreading going inside. Now he was desperate to run in and hide from the overly attractive man.

Owen watched Conan scurry away and felt some emotion he couldn't decipher prod at his gut. His fluffy brown hair blew in the wind and added to his innocent appearance. He was short, a lot shorter than Owen. Maybe 5'4 next to his height of 6'3. Even Tara was several inches taller. Everything about the complete stranger made Owen feel all tingly inside. He had no idea what was going on but shrugged it off, making his way to first period. It was probably nothing.

It took Conan an extra fifteen minutes to find his class since the school was so big. He had to ask four different people for directions on the way until he finally reached chemistry. The teacher questioned him, asking for his name and why he was late in front of the entire class. They didn't seem to care or be too interested but to Conan, it felt like an interrogation that equaled life or death. Like everyone's beady eyes were focused on him, judging him, reading right through his facade. In reality, no one really cared, being too wrapped up in their own lives. It took him a long time to learn that lesson.

After she was done he sat down in an empty chair at the edge of the room. Sitting in the back would put him with the scary cool kids, but sitting in the front would make him look like a nerd. Sitting off to the corner left him alone which wasn't much better but at least it eased his nerves. At least it did until he saw that girl from the parking lot in the back.

Tara was dressed in a new outfit with all the blood wiped from her face. Her nose looked a little bit swollen but concealer was caked around the injury to hide the forming bruises. Even with that personality he now knew to be ugly, she still looked beautiful.

The sunlight poured through the window, glinting off of her straight white teeth that she was showing off in her smile. Her silky hair was tossed over her shoulder as she immersed herself in deep conversation with some other guy who was probably just as popular, though not nearly as good-looking as Owen.

Owen. Conan thought back to their interaction. It was painfully awkward and embarrassing beyond belief. What a great way to start his first day at a new school, slamming his car door into a popular, pretty girl's face. He seriously managed to discover some new way to screw up everything. Constantly.

The guy talking to Tara boldly placed his hand on her thigh with a teasing, suggestive wink. He must've said something sexual and flirty because she slapped his hand away from her, making him laugh loudly.

Conan scowled at the way he was overly touchy. He seemed like a jerk. As he reached out to cup her thigh again, Conan couldn't help but think about how much of a better boyfriend Owen must've been. Maybe Tara was a bit dramatic, but she didn't seem evil. Even if she was, no girl deserved to be objectified like that, to be treated like a piece of meat. He doubted Owen would be anything like that.

Owen was probably an amazing boyfriend.