Nox
Three years ago...
I haven't seen Yoongi after the night he took me to the hospital.
It was kind of him to drive me to the nearest clinic where I could get my leg checked and it turned out I sprained my ankle when I fell back at that disgusting alleyway as I was trying to fend for myself against my attacker. Unfortunately, that meant I had to skip on volleyball practice to let myself heal, but I couldn't afford doing that.
For the first three days or so, I continued to practice with the rest of the team as scheduled, but then I fell during a jump, so Coach forced me to take a break for the upcoming week. She told me to stay away from the court for as long as I needed because they needed me as their decoy to be in perfectly good shape to make it to Nationals.
Besides, taking a break from volleyball practice gives me the opportunity to focus more on my studying. It would be incredibly helpful if I could physically focus; it's simply impossible for me to concentrate. It's hard to focus on anything regarding my schoolwork when you're dyslectic and the worst part is that I keep getting called lazy by my teachers. The irony is that they're licensed professionals, so isn't it their duty to help a student who's facing learning difficulties? Instead I keep getting talked down about my results and how I'm not producing any results in my academics.
Usually, I feel more motivated to study when I'm at the school library, because it's quiet and neither my brother nor my father are here to distract me. A groan of despondence leaves my mouth in the dimmed lit hallway. My back crouches against the chair causing my cropped mint green shirt to ride up my torso as I look down at the opened textbook on my desk. I have an essay to write about 'Lolita' and I can barely make it past the fifth page. Not when my mind focuses intently on the text in front of me, only to suddenly get distracted by intrusive thoughts about literally the most random things and while my eyes are reading the pages, my mind isn't processing any of the information they contain, so I'm forced to return back to square one.
I might not have read the entire book but based on what I know from the synopsis is that Humbert was a sick fuck. The sorry excuse of a man was serially defiling his adolescent stepdaughter-a child. I don't even want to read the damn book, but I'm forced to do so because I need a passing grade for English Lit otherwise, I won't be able to play volleyball.
I slam my book shut in frustration then shove it in my bag before getting off the chair. Slinging my backpack, I pace between endless aisles of bookshelves, with my jacket in hand. Whatever remaining light the sunset emits gets soaked in these halls, the wooden floors and millions of pages of books that remain untouched in such a vast space. Even though, I don't read a lot of books, I can appreciate movies, so I'll probably watch the movie to write the essay. What my teachers don't know won't kill them and besides, it's not like I'm aspiring to get a perfect flawless grade. I just need to pass the class, just enough so that I get to play on Nationals.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I reach for it when I see a text by Elijah. He's just checking in to see if I'm doing alright, but I don't answer him. If I tell him that I have trouble writing the essay about Lolita he's going to make a huge deal out of it or worse.
He's going to offer to help.
A cold breeze hits my back and I shiver as I push the library door open. I step outside into the steps that lead towards the school's parking lot when I decide to head over to the volleyball court. Coach hasn't found us an indoors court yet, but I know she's still working on finding us a place to train where we won't have to check the weather forecast every two minutes.
My ankle still feels tender and sore and with each step that I take, my footing is wobbly. I've downed my painkillers for the day, so all I must do is be a good kid and don't fuck up my leg further. How hard could it be to sit still and do what I'm good at, which is absolutely nothing?
I take slow steps towards the volleyball court when I see Beatrix practicing her sets, while Rika is focusing on her aim. Carson and Astrid are doing box jumps together. Everyone tries to polish their skills while I'm the only one who's contributing to nothing.
A bitter feeling stirs in my stomach, and I clutch my jacket as I make my way to the bleachers. I take a seat on the bench and place my bag beside me. Nobody notices me and for some reason, it makes me sad that not one person came to ask how I am doing. I usually talk to Rika and Carson, but right now their hands are tied with practice. I also hate how I'm being a total child, as if I need someone to hold my hand and tell me that everything is going to be alright, because deep down I know that that's the stupidest thing someone could say for encouragement.
And somehow, I crave to hear those meaningless words from someone.
Anyone.
That's when I notice a dark figure near the fence, scrutinizing our team from afar. At first, I thought it was Elijah, because he usually drops by the court to bring me food and some water; he knows I forget my water bottle at home. But this guy is skinnier than Elijah and he rarely wears baseball caps, or hats for that matter. He lifts a lighter to light up the cigarette hanging off his lips when he inhales deeply before exhaling a cloud of smoke. I get off my seat and practically limp towards the side of the fence he's lurking when his dark eyes clash against mine.
"Yoongi," his name falls out of my mouth in a hushed breath. A small smile creeps up to his face when he sees how shocked I am to suddenly see him here.
"Nox," he says swiftly, gazing down at my foot. "How's the ankle?"
"A little sore." I manage. "Um, are you waiting for someone?"
"I'm waiting for you." His directness catches me off guard and I find myself instinctively stepping back. "I'm sorry, are you free right now?"
I shrug. "I can't exactly practice with my busted ankle."
"Would you like to go for a drive?"
"My father told me not to enter strangers' cars."
"Your father's a wise man." Yoongi states. "Only, I saved your life a few days ago. Can't say that I'm a stranger now, can you?"
"I guess I can't." I say in defeat.
***
Yoongi is lucky to have a driver's license.
He has a glossy black Jeep Cherokee with tinted windows. It smells like leather and cigarettes. I think I also catch a whiff of marijuana in the air, but with the windows rolled down, the smell fades away into the atmosphere. The backseat is a total mess because he has paintball guns and some type of equipment sitting in cardboard boxes. I'm confused as to what I'm doing with this boy in his car, but right now I'm happy I don't have to worry about my Literature paper.
Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to get my own car. I always enjoyed car rides whether they're quiet or filled with discussions or with music blaring from the speakers. I've always wanted a convertible. I wanted to enjoy the sun's gentle kisses on an early morning and then the cold caress of the night. I wanted to jam out to my favorite songs with someone and then eat some delicious takeout. I don't have a lot of friends, but I wouldn't mind going on a drive alone either.
"I hope you don't think I'm weird for showing up at the volleyball court." Yoongi says, shattering the peaceful silence. I watch him as he holds the wheel with one hand while the other is resting on the window with a blunt. Excess smoke escapes his lips as he talks and I cling onto the window of my side for dear life, because I can barely breathe.
"I think you're weird because I never told you I played volleyball." I practically choke out.
"You were wearing a kneecap on your left leg." He tells me. "And Coldwater High has a volleyball team. Besides, you're quite tall so I figured you played volleyball."
He's observant.
"I've been meaning to ask you how you've been after what happened at the back alley." He continues saying. "It must have startled you."
A few minutes, he pulls over to a sandwich truck in the middle of nowhere and turns to me. I look over at the yellow and green sign that reads 'The Lucky Lamb'.
"How do you like your sandwich?" I look back at him wide-eyed and I don't answer because I don't have any money with me. I think he notices, I'm nervous when he shrugs lightly as he says, "I haven't eaten anything since this morning. It's on me."
"I'd like a chicken sandwich." I croak. "Extra mayo and no pickles please."
"Jesus, that's dry as hell, how can you eat that?" He frowns.
"I'm allergic to the conservatives they put in pickles."
Yoongi tosses his cigarette butt on the ground and steps on it to put out the embers. He goes to place the order for our sandwiches and returns rather quick with some 7ups and extra fries. My stomach grumbles at the sight of those delicious treats when Yoongi takes out a handful of French fries and practically inhales them. He wipes his hand before starting the car and with that we drift away into the dark road ahead of us.
Twenty minutes pass until he finally stops the car, and he gestures me to get out. He brings out the bag of sandwiches then shuts the door behind him. When I step out of the car, the cool night breeze licks my skin and chills run down my spine because my shirt is thin, and I made a mistake thinking that a jean jacket is warm enough for this weather. Tall trees are towering on each side of the road until they reach the end of the road that leads to a clearing. I've never been to this side of Sunleth and you can see the whole town from up here. Every single building has twinkling lights that shine brightly in the dead of the night and while this place is only lit up by a streetlamp, the view ahead of us contains hundreds of galaxies.
"Come here," Yoongi says and I follow him to a bench near the edge of the viewpoint where there's something like a little gazebo. There are benches near the railings with a single telescope and I'm suddenly grateful he decided to go to the gazebo because it would block the wind. He hands me my sandwich along with the bag of fries and my beverage and I begin eating as soon as he digs in. Even though, I know absolutely nothing about him, I somehow feel comfortable around his presence.
"Thank you for the meal," I say and he nods while chewing on his chicken sub.
"It's nothing," Yoongi mutters.
I take one big bite out of my chicken sandwich then grab a fistful of fries, dipping them in ketchup when a big fat drop falls on my jeans. "Crap," I mutter, my face stuffed with French fries, and I reach out for some tissues in my backpack.
Meanwhile, Yoongi is quietly enjoying his food, completely ignoring my ketchup stain crisis. Once I finally grab the pack of tissues from my bag, his eyes fall on the copy of 'Lolita' that's sticking out.
"Nabokov Vladimir." He says the name of the author.
"You've read this?"
"Yes," he answers, lighting up another cigarette.
"I have to write a paper about it for English Lit." I huff. "I barely made past page 5."
"All this book confirms is that abuse is disguised as love and sometimes it's just the other way around." Yoongi says as-a-matter-of-factly. "Humbert describes his vile acts by using literary allusions and puns to make them seem captivating, ensnaring. Take those pretty words away and you're left with all the sick shit he's done; he was a pedophile and a murderer. Nabokov is a mastermind for forcing us to us see from Humbert's point of view, by basically compelling us to be an accomplice in his crimes." Once Yoongi finishes talking, all I do is stare at him in awe, because he knows so much more about this book than me and I'm supposed to write a stupid paper about this. "I guess the reason why this book is considered a masterpiece of the twentieth century is because Nabokov manages to make his readers immerse in all of Humbert's wrongdoings; knowing that his acts are wicked and vile and yet through his words you're tricked into engrossing in the darkness of Humbert's mind."
"Wow." I'm utterly speechless at how outspoken he is. "I'll literally take everything you just said, and I'll write it down in my essay word by word." Yoongi chuckles and takes a sip from his 7up before inhaling with his cigarette hanging off his lips. "I'm serious, this was great help."
"You haven't even read the book, how are you going to write a whole essay based on what I just told you?"
"That's why the '97 movie of Lolita exists." I say proudly. "I won't have to read through Humbert's creepy journal."
"It's not even that big of a book." He snorts.
"Well, I can't read it okay?"
"I can respect that you don't want to read about such controversial topics, but like I said he uses pretty words to justify his acts so-"
"It's not that Yoongi." I cut him. "I'm not lazy, nor do I have mind reading about controversial topics. I just can't concentrate." My gaze finds his and I take a deep breath. "I'm dyslectic so I have a short attention span. Other times, I'm hyper-focused during my studying, but unfortunately, I'm out of luck right now. You have no idea how hard it is to not be able to learn as quickly and efficiently as other people. And the worst thing for me is exams. I never do well in tests."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know." His expression is soft, and he offers me a small smile.
"It's okay." I grin. "You got me food, so you're forgiven."
"Can't you tell your professor to examine you in a different way?" He suggests. "Oral tests perhaps?"
"You need special papers for that." I shrug. "And I used to go to a specialist, but he was dick, and he didn't give me the papers I needed so I can't do anything about it now."
"I see."
"The thing is I need to get a passing grade in all of my main subjects in order to be able to compete at Nationals." I tell him. "I am barely hanging on in Algebra and Trig. History is boring, Biology is interesting, but I swear Chemistry and Physics are going to be the death of me. The last few weeks were hell for me because exams are approaching, and I'm pressured to do well even though I know exactly how I'll do. I've been avoiding everyone, because I need to focus on my studying but every time I sit down in the library, I just can't do it and it upsets me further. It angers me that I can't do what comes to other people naturally."
"You're stupid for getting angry over this." He comments.
"What?"
Did I just hear him right?
"Sure, studying comes to people naturally," he continues. "But you play volleyball. And that isn't an easy sport, Nox."
"Yeah, I guess."
"You might not be able to absorb information as effectively as other morons, by reading a thousand books a day, but that doesn't mean you're incapable of learning. You can study too Nox, just in a different way. We just have to find out which way."
"But if I don't do well in my exams, I won't be able to play volleyball."
My future depends on mere numbers.
Doing the one thing I love and I'm genuinely good at depends on some test scores.
My phone suddenly rings in my pocket and the special ringtone I have assigned for Elijah interrupts me. He's probably wondering why I haven't answered any of his texts. "Excuse me," I mutter and walk away from the gazebo to pick up the call. I haven't realized that I was crying until I hear how stuffy my nose is as I'm breathing, and my cheeks are wet.
"Hello?" I say hoarsely.
"Hey Nox," Elijah greets. "You okay? I dropped by the library to ask you if you want to grab some food, but I couldn't find you. I also dropped by the volleyball court and the girls said you're taking some time off."
"Hi, Elijah I just left earlier." I tell him. "Coach told me to take it easy for a week."
"How's your ankle?" He asks.
"It's better now."
"Is there anything you need?"
"Nope, but thank you for checking in."
"Are you at your house now?" He asks after a little. "I'd like to see you."
"I'm outside actually."
"That's too bad," he mutters. "I have a surprise for you, but I guess that will have to wait."
"Really?" I squeal. "What is it?"
"You'll have to come to my place to find out, or I could come over at your place."
"If you say the present, is you and you're lying on the bed with a red bow on your head, I'll be disappointed." I say mockingly.
Elijah laughs throatily and his laugh makes me giggle in return. "Damn it, I spent a long time crouching in a present box for you. Come here because I'm running out of oxygen in here!"
"You're cute." I comment.
"I love you."
Hearing these words come out of his mouth, cause butterflies to flutter in my belly. "I love you too."
"I'll swing by at your place in an hour." He says swiftly. "You know, because I need to wrap myself in a present."
"Okay, you go do that and I'll see you soon."
And with that I hang up the phone and return to Yoongi.
"Everything okay?" He inquires.
"Everything's great," I grin. "Is it okay if I ask you to take me home? My boyfriend is expecting me."
Yoongi munches on the last few fries in the bag. "Of course."
***
"Thank you for listening to my rants," I say to Yoongi as soon as he pulls into a halt right in front of my house. "And thank you for the sandwich."
"You know, if you have trouble with your English Lit paper, I could help you with it." He suggests.
"I couldn't ask you that. I'm sure you have better things to do with your time."
Yoongi turns to face me and flips his baseball cap the other way so that he can face me. "Don't get me wrong, I won't write your paper for you Nox. I can give you a few pointers after you read the book."
"I don't think my professor will believe I wrote it if you give me a hand." I mumble.
"We'll find a way to make it convincing." He winks at me. "So, what do you say? Can I be your tutor?"
"Are you sure you want to be my tutor?" I ask. "I am a dreadfully slow learner."
He grins mischievously. "Good thing I'm an exceptional teacher."
Someone's confident.
"What time are you available Teach?" I finally cave in.
"You're the star of volleyball. You tell me."
His little compliment earns a playful laugh out of me. "I'm available any time this week, since I won't be attending practice."
"Tomorrow, after lunch sounds good?"
"Sounds perfect."
A few moments later, I exit his car and we exchange goodbyes. I thank him for the ride back to my house and he waves it off like it's nothing. I notice from the corner of my eye that the light in my bedroom is on, and I smile, knowing that Elijah is here. Fiddling with the keys in my hands, I twist the key in the lock and open the front door. I head straight into the kitchen to grab a little late-night snack when I find my dad sitting in one of the chairs glaring daggers at me.
"Hi, dad. Sorry I'm late."
"Where were you?" My father asks flatly.
"I-I was out with a friend." I stammer. What's up with him? He's never up my case when I stay out late.
"Do you realize how long you've kept Elijah waiting?" He finally says. "Jesus, the kid was here for an hour. Said he had a gift for you."
I break out in a laugh. "I thought you were going to scold me for real."
"I'm expecting grandchildren." He huffs. "And Elijah is the perfect candidate."
"Dad!" I squeal. "You'll scare him off! He might be listening to your nonsense!"
"I'm not expecting grandchildren now Nox. I'm talking about the distant future."
I roll my eyes in annoyance. "I'm not having this discussion with you right now Dad."
"Axel thinks he's a good kid too."
"Axel doesn't even like Elijah." I snort.
"Yeah, deep down he knows he likes him."
Sure thing.
"Keep it PG up there." He says to me.
"Dad!"
We might keep it PG here, but definitely not at his place. Damn it, I knew I should have gone over to Elijah's house. I'm in need for a little release after all.
"Just sayin kid."
And with that, I excuse myself and head upstairs to my bedroom. I knock on my own door and open it when I find Elijah sitting on my bed in a seductive position and a tiny red bow made from one of the ribbons I use for my hair. His clothes are still on, but I notice piles of papers scattered all over my mattress.
"Hey, you," I say with a smile. "What are you doing here?"
Elijah gets off my bed carefully making sure to not ruin the order of the papers he's put all over the place when he takes my hand and pulls me close. I lean into his arms and stand on my tallest tiptoes to kiss his lips.
"I haven't seen you all day and I missed you." He says breathlessly. "Almost forgot how good this feels."
I kiss his jaw and he cups my cheeks. "That's very irresponsible of you."
"Which is why I'm taking you out tomorrow for dinner right after school." He smirks. "You don't have any plans later, right?"
"Not really, but I was intending to do some studying."
"Speaking of studying," he moves away and leads me to the bed. "I have a little surprise for you."
"I thought you blessing me with your presence was my gift." I joke, snatching the red ribbon from his head.
"Well, yes obviously." He grins. "It might not be much, but I know you've been going through a lot of stress, and you've been very anxious lately because of your injury so I wanted to help you in the best way I can."
"I thought this was a long ass love letter."
"Shut up," he chuckles. "Anyway, I know you've been having trouble with History and Algebra and Trig and Biology-"
"Everything basically."
"Yes, so I decided to make notes for you to understand." He tells me. "They're organized and I used different colors because I know you understand Madison's notes. I also tried to make my handwriting clearer for you to read."
My eyes fall on all the notes my wonderful boyfriend wrote for me. Tears are welling in my eyes when I see all of his love poured straight into little actions. He doesn't have to buy me things to make me feel better, because material goods won't change a thing, but knowing that he's there for me every step of the way means the world to me. It's small gestures such as this that make what we have worth it.
"You're crying," he points out. "Was it something I said?"
"No, it's perfect." I breathe as I pull him close to me. "You're perfect."
I press my lips against his and he holds me. His hands feel so warm, so soft yet firm against my skin. He takes off my jacket and tosses it aside while I reach out for him because all I need right now is him. His hands, his lips, his love his everything.
"I love you." I say lowly.
So much.
I couldn't possibly ask for anything more.
I don't want anything else.
Nothing more.
And nothing less.
I only want him.
He tips my chin up and smiles. "I love you too."
hope you enjoy the flashback bc there's going to be more...