Chapter two - blush
I just reached 900 followers (wHY?), so I'm updating EVERYTHING. Anywhore, here ya go, pretzels :3
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I woke up to the harsh sound of my alarm blaring and I groaned and fumbled with the clock until I found the off button. I rolled over and pulled the blanket up to cover my face, then curled up into a ball and sighed. I was already tired as hell from staying up almost all night with Renée, Pete and Patrick, and my head was pounding.
And though it seemed pathetic, my knee still hurt from when I hit it on the bedpost after sneaking in through the window the night before.
Man, I needed to get more sleep.
Although I wanted my bed to engulf me and make me disappear forever, I knew I had to get up and go to school sometime, or mom would come in and force me. I groaned again and kicked the blanket down to my knees, shivering as the cold morning air hit me like a hail storm.
I slipped out of bed and swapped my crumpled, mismatched outfit for another crumpled, mismatched outfit from the pile on the floor. Running a hand through my messy hair, I trudged out of my room and down the stairs.
All the downstairs lights were off. I sighed. Mom must have still been asleep, so there was no need for me to have got up so early. Irritated, I grabbed my bag and left the house, not bothering with breakfast. I walked the whole way to school with my earphones in, my hood up, and my head down.
I wasn't really paying attention to what was going on around me, just following the pavement and walking the same way I did every day (I could probably walk to school with my eyes closed; I've been going to the same school since I was six), and I didn't notice anything in the world outside my headphones until I crashed into someone.
I heard a yelp and then before I knew it everything was rushing past and turning upside down as I fell to the floor. My headphones were pulled out my ears abruptly when I hit the concrete, and the breath was knocked out of me as a body fell on top of mine.
"Fuck," I choked, and squirmed to get out from under the other person.
"Sorry!" the person spluttered, sounding terrified. The voice was too deep for a girl, but quite high for a boy. He must have been young, his voice probably only just having broken. "I'm so sorry, oh my god," he whimpered, frantically climbing off me.
Why was he so terrified? I was obviously not hurt, and it wasn't like he'd crashed into me on purpose. "Hey, it's okay," I said. "I'm–"
I froze when I saw the boy. He was black.
What the fuck was he doing out here? He could have been killed.
He stared at me, looking as frightened and vulnerable as a deer caught in the headlights. His green eyes were large and bright, quite a contrast to the dull, colourless black of his skin and clothes. His hair, though black like the rest of him, was slightly blue tinged and the colour shone where the light hit it as it fell over his eyes.
I suddenly realised that my intense staring probably wasn't doing anything to remove his fear that I was going to smash his face, and I quickly took a step back to look less intimidating.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. P-please don't hurt me, I just–"
"Hey," I said. "I'm not going to hurt you."
He frowned, confused and still scared. "Why? I mean, I crashed into you. And I'm out here. Aren't you going to– aren't you going to k-kill me or anything? I knocked you over. You have black all over you because of me."
"No, of course I'm not going to kill you," I half laughed. "But if I was some murderer, you wouldn't be doing much to plead your case."
"S-sorry."
"You don't need to be sorry. It was an accident."
The boy just looked more confused than ever.
"I'm– I'm not like everyone else," I said, quieter than before. "I don't hate you."
"You don't? You don't want to kill any of us? Or you just felt sorry for me because I was crying?"
"I don't want to kill any of you. This discriminating, I think it's stupid. The whole fucking council is stupid!"
"Keep your voice down!" the boy said, terror filling his eyes. "If anyone sees you talking to me they'll kill the both of us!"
I shook my head. "It's okay."
"No, it's not! You've got my handprints all over you! If anyone sees, they'll–"
"It's okay! No one's going to see." I ducked into a nearby alleyway and gestured for the boy to follow, and he nervously shuffled behind me.
"God– I'm so fucking– so sorry. You can't even go to school now. They'll kill you. I'm s-so–"
"It's alright, I'll just bunk off." I waved a hand, dismissing the worry.
"Where are you going to go?"
I shrugged. "Incastum?"
"What?"
"I've been there before. I have friends there."
"They'll be at school!"
"Why aren't you at school?"
"I had to– I went to the shop." He waved the plastic shopping bag in his hand feebly.
"Why? You have shops in the incastum."
"I needed a pharmacy. We, um. We ran out."
"Of what?"
"I..." He sighed. "Methotrexate," he said softly.
"Metho... what?" I frowned in confusion.
"It's, um. Medication. For leukaemia."
I stared at the boy, suddenly feeling immensely sad. I'd kind of hoped we could be friends. "You..." I murmured weakly.
"My brother," he sighed miserably.
"I'm so sorry," I said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder but freezing when he flinched away. I'd forgotten about the marks I would leave.
"It's okay, I guess," he mumbled.
"You don't look very okay," I said.
"No. I'm fine. You can just... g-go. To wherever it is you were going to go."
"Well, I was going to go to the incastum. We can walk together," I offered.
The boy blinked. "A-are you sure you want to be seen with me? I mean, we'll have to walk all the way across–"
"It's alright," I laughed. "I like you. I don't care."
The corner of the boy's mouth twitched up slightly in an almost-smile. "Okay."
"Oh," I said. "I still don't know your name."
"I-I'm Gerard."
"Hi. I'm Frank. I like your name."
"I l-like yours."
Did he have a stutter? I thought it was just out of fear when he first crashed into me, but he had no reason to be at all frightened now. "Do you have a stutter?" I asked without thinking.
"I–"
"I'm sorry," I interrupted, realising how offensive that could have sounded. "I didn't mean to be rude or anything, I just– god, I'm probably really freaking you out now."
"It's okay," he smiled– a proper smile, all adorable, his eyes shining and his lips stretched into a grin. "I m-mean, I do have a stutter, it's just kind of embarrassing." He bit his lip nervously, and blushed.
"I think it's kind of sweet," I admitted, but regretted it the moment the words left my mouth.
He flushed an even darker shade of red and hid behind his hair, clearly mortified. What the hell was I thinking? He probably thought I was some rapist / serial killer who targeted blacks now.
"Thanks," he mumbled softly, scuffing his shoes in the dirt. He looked up and smiled shyly. "Do you want to go then?"
"Sure," I said, my face spreading into a grin.