It's pitch dark outside, the storm has calmed, the rain is splattered on the pavement, my fingers feel like ice, gradually thawing by my side, and the only thing to be seen in the sky is the mist of my lonely sighs, floating above my head.
I push my hood up, and force my hands in my pockets, my head lowered, feet dragging past the floor, as I try to breathe and just clear my head of every single thing that is occupying it.
I stop biting my lip, rubbing my forehead, fiddling with my hand, speed walking.
My heart rate is only starting to get back to normal, when my heart pace starts up again.
"Jones?"
Christopher sits in the middle of the street, at the curve of the sidewalk, rubbing his knuckles and messing with his hair.
I whisper under my breath, reminding myself to stay away from him, to just ignore him and turn the other way.
But, like previously, I just can't walk away, which is stupid but I don't want to walk away.
So I don't.
I make my way towards Christopher, panting heavily, as I pray that neither I nor him, do or say anything stupid, again.
I kneel on the curb, sitting next to him, and looking forward, remembering our last conversation, and tensing slightly in embarrassment.
I feel Christopher's gaze as he turns his head slightly to look at me for a second or two then turns his attention back to looking straight a head of him not saying anything.
I open my mouth, then close it again not wanting to say anything or ruin the silence.
"Ya know, you've never told me anything that's about yourself, Jones. Like anything interesting" he turns to face me, something unfamiliar twinkling in the waves of his dilated eyes.
I laugh nervously, holding myself, tightly, slightly confused.
"What do you want to know?"
I'm an open book, or I think I am to most people, at least. As far as I know, I don't really have anything to hide.
"What's it like?"
In one almost unnoticeable motion, he inches closer to me, the tips of his fingers, millimetres away from mine.
"What?"
"I mean, I guess, because everything has been so great for me. I've never really known or cared about what it's like, being on your side of segregation."
I search his face for any signs of mockery, or humour but upon seeing only curiosity and tenderness I dart my focus away from him, and answer the question, my hands scratching my knees.
"I don't think any of you do. None of you ever wonder what it's like, for an African-American in Birmingham, because it's not your problem." I start rambling letting all my secret thoughts out. "Everything is going perfect for you, and it's going to be perfect for you."
"You don't know that," he mumbles.
"I do know that though, and I know what's going to happen in your perfect, privileged, American life. It's always the same story. Always the same predictable fairytale for all of you." I remind myself to breathe, as my hands clench together. "Christopher, You're going to have a perfect graduation, then you're going to get into a perfect college. You'll get a perfect education, be promoted for a perfect job, and meet an amazing, gorgeous, smart and all together perfect girl. You'll have a perfect marriage. Then, you're going to have beautiful, perfect children, and guess what?"
Christopher's eyes are averted from my face, looking at a flickering street light, placed on the sidewalk a few metres away from us.
"What?" It's less of a question, and more of a statement, seeing as he already knows the truth.
"The cycle continues, Christopher. It continues with you're children, you're children's children, and all of your descendants. They're just gonna lead this perfect anti-black life," I tug at the sleeves of my coat, to calm myself down. "But me, you know what happens to me?"
Christopher shakes his head, hair bouncing around in different directions.
"Minorities, we get left behind, kind of like the aftermath."
"No," he says, actually fully looking at me this time, randomly moving his hand to grab my hand, and squeeze it, comfortingly in his own.
I look at my smaller hand, surrounded by his large ones, I feel like a heavy weight has just been lifted off my shoulders, and a rush of that unknown feeling runs through my senses stronger than it ever has before.
"It's what happened to Mama. It's what happened to Grandma. It's what will happen to me. My whole life has just pain and death, all the people I care about get hurt, get murdered, and that's what will happen to me," I laugh, halfheartedly, not finding any amusement in my words. "I think the worst thing is... It hasn't happened already."
His thumb starts rubbing against my hand, his attention, apparently, now, not drawn to anything else but my face.
"Jones-"
"They haven't killed me yet. I could be murdered today, and no-one would care, No-one would notice. It would just be another unsolved case, left without care by the police."
"Jones, stop. Just stop talking." He cuts me off, his eyes turning darker than the moonlight turning down on us.
I don't realise how sad i must look until Christopher moves his hand to my shoulder letting me lean slightly into him, going back to looking right in front of him.
I can't remember enough to tell you how long we stayed like that. How long we just rested.
But I can tell you that as the night got darker, with my body huddled closely next to Christopher, I didn't even ask myself or wonder about why I was finding comfort in this arrogant, teenage boy, or why I wasn't sprinting home to the security of my own small bedroom.
Yet in the cold, deserted streets, the icy winter air, not alone, but with Christopher, I shut my eyes quicker and slept better than I have in months.
**************
My clumsy self seems to have this kind of talent, I guess you could call it, of bumping into people.
I assume that I've had the talent since the minute I could walk, and in reality I think it's more of a curse, than a gift.
During the worst situations, and at the worst times, it just kicks in and I slam myself into a random stranger.
Or, in unnaturally rare instances, very tall, familiar faces.
"Alex? Mark?" I look up with a wide grin on my lips, as they smirk down at me from their hovering height.
They don't answer, not giving me the chance to stop them both as they circle me, enticing me, unexpectedly, into their own conversation, like two, strange giants.
"You must have missed us?" Alex winks, nudging my shoulder, with a smirk on his face.
I snort at him, covering my mouth, and staring at him, ridiculously.
"Yes, obviously, I missed you both so much," I laugh, sarcastically.
"I told you she would miss us," Alex whispers behind me, thinking that I can't hear him.
"No, you said she was in love with us and probably hurt more and more every second we were apart"
I look up at with a confused expression at Alex who has a big grin on his face.
"Come on, look at how she's smiling and tell me I'm wrong."
I scoff, rolling my eyes and carrying on trying to walk fast enough to lose them.
But of course they catch up, seeing as one of their steps make up for two of mine so I just put up with them walking at my side as I try to find my classroom.
"So we were just wondering if you're okay." Mark explains.
"Why wouldn't I be okay?" I stop to rummage through my bag for my books.
"W-well, erm, last time we saw you, you were kind of bloody And injured."
I had completely forgotten about that day, and I had completely forgotten to thank Mark and Alex for helping me, and maybe the twins for reporting to them.
"Thank you for that," I barely whisper under my breath.
They look at each other, momentarily before responding.
"We're really just worried about you"
"And if you told Christopher," Alex states, leading to Mark instinctively elbowing him in the stomach.
Mark glares at Alex who is rubbing his torso.
"What?"
"Cause it's Christopher. He's got this massive attraction thingy going on. At least, I think, judging from how he's always talking about you. So if you tell him what happened he'll go all crazy, protective mode and-"
Mark violently pushes Alex out of my view.
"We just wanted to check if you were okay," he reassures.
Christopher?
Talking about me?
It takes a lot for me to not laugh at the idea.
"I'm fine actually, I didn't than-"
"Alex, Mark. Wow. I wasn't aware that you're this desperate and willing to stoop so low that you'd hang out with... that."
"Not today, Lauren," Mark tries to calm the fuelling situation with his warm voice.
Which doesn't work on Lauren.
"Oh, what's wrong, Marcus," he twitches, uncomfortably, "You finally decided to start donating to charity."
"Do you ever get tired, Lauren?" Alex asks.
"Of what?" she snickers, being followed by Laura, Leah and...
Lottie?
"Of all of this shit. Doesn't it get old? Don't you ever think about how much more time you would have if you didn't spend so much of it torturing Ivy?" Alex shrugs.
Ivy?
Ivy, not Ivory.
I look up at Alex, smiling brightly, and grab his hand, holding it as a notion of my gratitude for his unconditional friendship.
He reacts by gripping my hand, and rubbing my arm with his heated ones, supportively.
Laura watches my hand move to Alex's and immediately has other thoughts.
"Aw, aren't you two the perfect couple," she sneers.
What?
Couple?
By now, a few people are crowded around looking because it's Lauren and it's me, they know it's not some friendly conversation.
"Lauren, grow up," Mark says.
"No, really it's cute, you two look good together."
"What's going o-"
I don't even have to hear the rest of the sentence to know that it's Christopher's voice.
It's Christopher.
Pushing his way through the people in the hallway.
He halts in his footsteps though, his face turns pale, he tenses his body and his eyes change colours, repeatedly, when he sees my fingers laced together with Alex's, my face awfully close to him, and his hand still on my arm.
I drop my hand, instinctively , as though burning it or touching something unpleasant, and lower to my normal height furthering myself away from Alex.
I'm not really sure why I did that, but it may have been because of Christopher's intense stare.
Christopher masks any previous emotions that he had shown, as though never having felt them, just staring at me, blankly.
For a while, we just stand like that, it feels like days but in reality, probably only seconds. I think of opening my mouth to say something but then-
He grabs a surprised Lauren by the hand, spinning her around, then supporting her in his arms, so that she's looking directly in his eyes, her face inches away from his.
His face goes from stoic and hostile to his signature smirk, wooing Lauren impressively.
I just flail my arms awkwardly, observing Christopher and Lauren kind of just look at each other as the crowd starts to just go away noticing that there's nothing interesting going on apart from what looks like a near kiss.
" Don't you wanna go?" Christopher asks not looking into Lauren's eyes anymore but kind of just the floor behind her.
"Y-yeah, yeah we can go," she stutters.
Christopher grabs Lauren, who is surprisingly flushed, by the hand and drags her away with him.
In that moment, with Alex sulking at me sympathetically, Laura and Leah giggling in amusement, and a few leftover people giving me quick glances.
I feel a slight sick kind of pain in my stomach watching Christopher and Lauren walk away which I try to ignore turning to look at Mark and Alex again, a small smile on my face.
They both look back at me, an expression of pity painted across their faces.
"Want me to hold ur bag?" Alex speaks up.
I sigh, throwing my bag into his arms with a quick thank you and just walking to my class again.
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I just want to say how grateful I am for everyone who views, votes or comments on my story.