Erase and Rewind (Full Book)

Chapter Nine: Schemes

It was getting crowded inside Noah's head. After his failed dumpster dive attempt, he thought he needed a change. He mulled things over, broke them down to shards he could carry, saw them reflecting light in his dimming mornings. He refused to succumb to thoughts of death. It was tempting, however, to let go, to have some peace, and he knew the cycle could begin any minute.

The cycle went from panic to numb.

Too much.

Collapse.

Destroy anything in his wake.

His mind was wired wrong. There were times when he'd wondered if he'd been born this way or if it had happened over the years because from the outside he could fool anyone into thinking he was intact.

He'd thought when he was a child, everyone was the same as he was. He thought people would have weeks on end when they would feel nothing. Or that their heads too got too loud. It was what made him come undone. Those swarming sharp thoughts, barreling, cascading towards him.

Then came the day he was meant to stand in front of his class and read out the assignment. He was standing, and then he was on the ground, screaming and thrashing.

The school had called his father, and he'd been right to...

Noah slammed the mental door on those memories with a thud. He shivered against the invisible impact, shifting the rusting gears of his brain to focus. He had the chance to live outside of his room. The voice of the imaginary gentle Malik was calling to him. It was like a safety blanket, and Noah grabbed it and threw it around himself to ward off the oncoming storm.

It worked.

The real Malik, however, was peering at him.

"Uh. Could you repeat that, please?" he said.

Malik grinned beside him. "You sure space out a lot."

Real Malik was making him feel safer than the imaginary version.

"Sorry," Noah mumbled.

"It's cool," Malik said. "I was saying should I read this out loud?"

Noah's breath hitched. "No. Please read it when I'm not around."

Noah's plan had made sense at the time. He'd written down when he was still unfeeling. It was a way to prove Malik was just another human being who would disappoint and at the same time, prove there was nothing to be afraid of while he loitered. He had to bide his time until he could attend the art show. Then he would be on the move again, a ghost passing through bustling cities.

But he didn't want to sit while Malik rattled off the silliness he'd written.

"Huh," Malik said. "No one wrote me a letter before. Does it start with dear?"

"No."

"It should've. There are rules."

"There are not!"

"I feel special."

Noah gaped at him and Malik smiled. Without warning, he reached for the top of Noah's head.

He stilled, bracing for a strike. But Malik did the damndest thing. He reached his head and...ruffled Noah's hair.

No one had done this to him except his mother. While recovering from the shock, Noah wished he could've leaned into Malik's hand. Let his cheek nuzzle...

"I was messing with ya," Malik said.

Noah smiled again. It was foolish. Sitting here, pretending they were friends. Pretending they had secrets between them.