"I can't believe your dad is making you do a sport." I muttered, my eyebrows furrowing in a mix of emotions - confused, annoyed and frustrated. It seemed trivial, complaining about an extra curricular, but Cody's dad hadn't exactly been a dad, from what I heard. He mostly worked - he didn't even cook, it was mostly ordered or he'd have someone cook for them - which Cody had overly expressed as being one of his dad's friends, to which has only lead to me internally questioning the truth. They'd only ever really talk when eating, too. He only ever seemed bothered to talk about Cody's education, on top of that. He wanted his adoptive son to take up a sport to help get a scholarship, which would be hard enough with Cody's habit of skipping classes. But it wasn't even to bond over - it was for a cheaper ride in college, and to make things worse, I'm pretty sure this guy has some money to his name too.
"Yeah." Cody replied, shrugging slightly with an obviously forced, small smile. "But, hey, got a free baseball bat out of it." He replied, glancing to me as we strolled around the field.
A small scoff left me as I looked up to him - he went through a big growth spurt from the last time we'd talked in person. Apparently his dad tried making him go to a few other schools, out of town. I'm glad he'd come back here, though. He used to be shorter than me - around 5"5, now he was something like 5"8. "And what good is a baseball bat gonna do you?" I teasingly asked.
Once again, he shrugged, looking towards the games of soccer being played on the astro turf. "I dunno. I was thinking maybe we could use it when we go into the forest?" He suggested, glancing back to me.
A snort escaped me, and seeing his expression fall into one of confusion and disgust only encouraged another to slip out.
"No, no, what are you thinking? What did you think I meant by that?-" He rambled, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes faintly squinted with distaste, "In fact no, don't tell me, I don't wanna know-" Cody quickly added, closing his eyes tightly as he shook his head, turning to look away from me.
I felt a grin forming on my face, "I thought you meant for monster hunting, why, what did you think I meant?" I replied, trying to fake a confused tone, but it was ruined by the urge to laugh wavering my voice.
The brunette's head quickly snapped back to my direction, sending me a small glare, "That is not what you were thinking, Toby." He grumbled, pointing to me as he spoke, but lowering his hand as he finished.
"I think you need to get your head out of the gutter." I hummed, speaking in a matter of factly tone as I lifted my head up slightly - as if proud of myself.
A small scoff escaped Cody as he shook his head, wound up by my teasing, "No- no, you need to get your head out of the gutter - you made it dirty. Not me." He argued, muttering afterwards, "Dumbass."
"¡Tu madre está enamorada de los camiones de bomberos!" I jokingly snapped, faking a glare at Cody - though became confused when his face contorted into a smile, like he was repressing a laugh - his dimples looked more evident as he tried to hide his expression by trying to force a grimace. "What? What's funny?" I asked, defensively.
"You're failing Spanish, aren't you?" He light heartedly quizzed, "I mean, you managed to get 'your mom loves' right, this time." Cody teased, shaking his head as he finally let out a small chuckle.
"I infact am not failing Spanish as I no longer take it-"
"That only explains what I just heard even more, that or you're just getting more creative."
"Why, what did I say?" I asked, tilting my head to the side as my brow furrowed.
With a snort, he shook his head - denying me the knowledge of my mistake, "I'm more curious to what you meant to say-" He teased.
"Andrews!" The coach called - causing me to glance back towards the elderly and portly man, who too was wearing our school's colours, just not the kit (yellow knee high socks, black shorts and a yellow top). I glanced back to Cody, who hadn't reacted to being called. I guess he hadn't gotten used to his new last name yet, either. "Hernandez!" The coach yelled - this time Cody turning around to look, his expression falling from a grin to an almost embarrassed look for not picking up on the first time he'd been called. "You don't need to walk with Rogers, he'll join when his heart rate goes down again."
Luckily, our teacher wasn't as bad as last years. He was more understanding, but still strict.
Cody turned to me with a small, awkward smile - still embarrassed, somewhat. "I'll catch you later?" He stated, though it seemed more like a question - to which I nodded, giving him a slightly reassuring smile.
"Of course."
His smile seemed to grow faintly, giving a quick nod in return, hesitantly going to jog off to join the rest of the class, "Good, I'm glad, dumbass."
A faint laugh escaped me, as I called out in retaliation, "Wichser!" Which had earnt me one of his middle fingers accompanied by a smile.
【⦻】
I woke up to the sound of harsh rain and a slightly calmer wind hitting the nearby trees and roof of my cabin - the indistinguishable ensemble of howling and thuds making me grumble in frustration. I wasn't getting back to sleep. I gripped the pillow underneath my head by the sides, lifting them up to cover my ears - and with the sound of not truly muffled, I let out a groan of defeated, throwing my head harshly back against the mattress.
Reluctantly, I slid out of bed, pushing the thin blanket off of me - not bothering to make the bed, instead strolling over towards my chest of drawers - they were the same shade of brown as the floorboards (an orange tinted, lighter colour). I rested the palms of my hands against the top of it, tiredly blinking and looking at my reflection in the small, oval mirror that hung above it.
My skin looked sickly pale - almost white and with a slight blue tinge (around more vieny areas). Around my eyes were thick, almost purple, bags. Heck, even my eyes looked tired - they looked like a dull, lifeless brown, like their lids were heavy and ready to close at the next possible chance. The freckles that dotted my cheeks, underneath my eyes were faded, even though the light brown contrasted to my skin - only making me look even more old and exhausted. My nose looked crooked, ever so slightly - a faint bump on the bridge, pointing to the right. Probably from all the times I'd broken it - mostly from getting into fist fights and on missions.
I looked angry - my thick brows hung low, close to my eyes (the left having a slit just before it's arch), and my lips naturally pressed together in an unimpressed line. My lips looked chapped and dry, too - almost flakey, but more noticeably, the left corner was missing - it opened up into a gash; the skin around it looked ripped and scarred, all of the marks looking like roots coming from the gaping hole - it was almost like a dip to my slightly rounder cheeks, a dip that exposed the two rows of teeth that sat further back - along with bits of my gums. It made me uncomfortable how used to it I was, now.
I needed to shave, too. I was a mess. The stubble would probably get annoying if I didn't. But, at least I didn't need to cut my hair again, yet. That was a positive - it was still just below my jaw, which was tolerable. But it was messy - it looked like I'd been dragged through the woods, and it wasn't just from tossing and turning in my sleep. It was just like that, naturally, I suppose.
Hesitantly, I lifted a hand up from the surface, running it through a mass of the unruly, dark brown curls - stopping when I felt resistance, and instead resorting to gently wiggling my fingers to loosen up the knots. I let out a small sigh, my eyes falling to the patch of pale red on the left side neck, that extended to my shoulder - and then the same coloured patch on my right arm, on the back of forearm. I didn't even know how I got those scars - nor the similar ones on my stomach and legs. I didn't really know how I got most of my scars.
I grumbled softly, looking to the scar just above the crook of my neck, on my right side. I knew where I'd gotten that from. It was deep - and looked like a messy cut, the layer of skin looked bumpy surrounding it and on the scar itself looked red and sore. It always did. It was circular, with the cross going through it. The thing's mark. I sighed, tired.
I was thinking too much, and I could tell I was phsycially exhausted as well as mentally. It was all too much and I just wanted to sleep again. It was probably only just passed three, if that. I really wouldn't know - the smashed up, analogue clock that I'd hung above my bed had run out of batteries long ago.
Even though I was happy to get a memory back, even though I was expecting a memory (from talking to Cody about it so much), it was still draining. Being here was so draining.
I rubbed the left side of my face with my hand, groaning as I caught sight of my bed in the mirror - the reflection of the stiff, small furniture only making me conjure up a stupid idea. Knowing I wouldn't get back to sleep with all the noise and with how uncomfortable the bed was, with only a woolen and thin, blue blanket, only made me start to consider my stupid idea. I sighed, frustrated.
"Fuck it."