Chapter 13:
"Hey!"
I jumped as I heard the chipper-sounding voice, almost hitting the side of my locker. It came from nowhere, and I peeked out from underneath the hood of my jacket, seeing a familiar pair of white and red Adidas shoes standing a short distance away. I knew who it was, and I wasn't really ready for any kind of confrontation today.
"Why haven't you been to the club after school in a while? Harry's worried about you," Louis commented, and that was an odd statement to me. Harry didn't know me. How could he be worried about me?
"I told you... I'm not very good at writing," I brushed off, shutting my locker and turning to walk down the hall, hoping Louis would leave me alone. I was foolish to think that he would even for a second.
"I told you that I don't believe that," He quipped as he rushed up beside me, matching my pace even with his shorter legs.
"How would you know?" I said, not really expecting an answer. I heard Louis stop walking for a moment, and I assumed I was successful in pushing him away, but I heard him catch up to me again a second later, the wrinkling sounds of a paper unfolding in his hands.
"Summer rays shine too bright," He read aloud, and I immediately froze in my tracks. I felt someone bump into me from behind, a small "oops" leaving their lips before walking around me. Louis gently grasped by elbow and led me to the side of the hallway, against the pair of lockers and out of the way of the human traffic.
"How did you get that?" I questioned, voice sounding rough and hesitant. I didn't dare look up at Louis.
"You dropped it when you were packing your bag after second hour. I picked it up to give it back to you. Liam... this is really good stuff. Why wouldn't you want to share this with anybody?" He said, holding the paper out to me so I could take it back.
I snatched it out of his hand quickly and folded it up, shoving it into my pocket.
"It's not... good," I said, turning my body away from him. I felt my face heating up at the thought of someone else reading my words. Every poem was so personal. Every single thought revealed the endless torture I've been through. Why would I want to put my heart and soul onto white pages for people to judge and ridicule?
"Um... yes, it is," Louis insisted. "It's real, and it makes a person feel something. Hell, if more people could stir up emotions the way you could, who knows what greatness could be unlocked! We have to show this to Harry. Maybe read it after school today. He's also in journalism, and he helps work on the school newspaper. Your poem could be featured in the section of The Arts."
"It can't... I- I don't want it to be," I managed to say, and Louis paused in his speech for a moment. I watched as he shifted all of his weight over to his right foot, leaning against the lockers now.
"Why not? Why wouldn't you want that?" He wondered, seeming genuinely shocked and confused.
"Louis," I said, the name feeling strange as it rolled off of my tongue. It was unusual for me to know as many names as I did now-- to use them. "There are some things that people write... that are just too personal to share."
"Okay. That's fair. I understand that. If it's too personal then you should definitely keep it to yourself. But... Liam, just trust me on one thing," He stood upright again, both feet taking on his weight once more. "I know... and everyone should know, that you are an amazing writer. Who knows, maybe someday you'll feel in touch and secure with yourself to put out something personal."
I didn't offer a response. I just stood there, staring down at the floor and feeling the folded up piece of paper that now resided in my pocket.
I wrote the poem on the corner of a piece of scratch paper for my math work. Most people would scribble down pictures whenever they got bored or distracted, but I tended to scribble out small poems or short thoughts that I just had to get off of my chest. Those thoughts, if left alone for too long, began to feel entrapping and suffocating. It felt like my head was spinning, and I couldn't focus on a single thing. It felt like the words were trapped in my throat, all of the dark thoughts begging to escape, but I refused to let them out. It was much safer to swallow them all down and never let anyone else see the hideous truth underneath the already disturbing exterior.
"I still think you should read something after school. The people in the club won't judge you. We're sort of like the outcasts of the school," He commented, but I found that hard to believe.
I knew who Louis was before we even met. He was the star in every single one of the school's theatre productions. He could sing, dance, and act like it was nobody's business. He was so outspoken, and he was probably one of the most popular kids in school-- without also being a complete asshole. He was the president of the theatre club, and he was also in the running for student body president. If he was considered an outcast, then what did that make the rest of us, exactly?
Harry was pretty popular as well. Even though he wasn't as talkative and front-and-center as Louis was, people just knew who he was. He was the academic type for sure. He was incredibly kind to everyone who spoke to him, and he was currently being crushed on by every single girl in our class. He was the perfect poster-child, and he just seemed to have a wit and charm to him. While he may be on the more introverted side, he was still intelligent, kind, and handsome enough to be considered popular throughout the school. Everyone just seemed to know his name and who he was. Besides, his articles in the school newspaper were often the ones that were favored by many.
I thought about the other kids in the club, and I realized that they were all fairly popular with their own friend groups and school clubs. While they may not be voted class favorites, they were all fairly welcomed into the intimidating society that was high school. If anyone could be labeled an outcast, I was afraid that only I could qualify.
"You're the most popular person I know," I mumbled out, and Louis seemed throw his hands out as he brushed off my statement.
"Okay, so maybe not exactly outcasts, but who I am with everyone else, especially in theatre, isn't the real me. It's not the me that I am allowed to be in the writing club. It's not the same as sharing my most personal thoughts through my writing. Sure, to be a great actor, you sort of have to know yourself first, but with writing it's different. It's getting to know the most minuscule parts of yourself-- things that you didn't even know were ever there-- in a way that acting will never reveal."
"So... what you're saying is that it's all just an act in itself? You... and everyone in that club... are just misunderstood?"
"Aren't we all?" Louis responded without missing a single beat.
I think that was the understatement of the century.
"Then what makes the people in this club so special?" I wondered. If everyone was just a misunderstood human being, putting on an act to get by in the world, then how could one writing club suddenly bring out the true person underneath?
"We're being brave enough to write things down that will only be for our eyes to see, and we are sharing it with others. You heard a few works that people wrote during the first meeting you attended. You can't tell me those weren't from somewhere deep inside that so many people are terrified to reach."
I thought back to that meeting, and I knew Louis was right in some way. There were three works that were read aloud that day, and each one was much deeper than the typical teenager surface level thoughts. One girl wrote about her parents' divorce and how it effected her when she was just eight years old. She titled it "Two of Everything." Another girl wrote about the death of her grandfather, and she spoke about how it led to her depression in middle school. It was really moving, but I was so wrapped up in my own mind to fully listen to her words. Finally, there was a boy who wrote about feeling like he wasn't allowed to cry because of the way he was raised, and it really messed him up as he grew older and went through some pretty heavy loses. It was emotional build-up, and I was pretty sure he allowed a tear or two to fall as he read it aloud to the club.
"Yeah," I finally managed to say, and Louis nudged my shoulder a bit.
"You'll get there one day. Just keep going to the meetings, please. Don't quit it so early. It does a lot to actually let everything out instead of holding it all in."
I watched as Louis' feet turned away from me, and he took a couple of steps forward before pausing momentarily. I could see the twist to his body, indicating that he had turned back to glance back at me.
"Your writing really is amazing, Liam. It deserves to be shared with everyone who'll listen."
With that, he turned and completely walked down the hall. I was left by the lockers as the bell rang, making everyone else rush off to try and make it to class on time. Still, I stood against the lockers, thinking of everything Louis told me, but I just didn't know if I could bring myself to be a part of the club, especially now that I was actually getting a job which could lead to me potentially helping my family out more.
I fully leaned by back against the lockers and I dug my hand into my pocket, pulling out the folded up page I shoved in there previously. I unfolded it and looked at the top corner of the messy math page, reading over the words I scrawled down in my hasty cursive letters.
Summer rays
Shine too bright
Sweat collects on my brow
Dripping into my eyes
Blinding
The world is a fantasy dream
Under the haze of golden rays
But looking closely
At an earth teeming with life
Nothing is a fantasy.
Everything
is a nightmare.
**************************************
I stood outside of the cafe, and I knew that Laurence was expecting me, but I wasn't in the mood to even speak to anyone, especially not after the encounter with Louis today. I took a deep breath, trying to gather whatever ounce of courage must've been dormant within me, and I reached for the door handle, but I didn't get to pull the door opened as I was abruptly shoved by my shoulder.
I stumbled to the side, trying to save face and catch my footing, but a leg came out beneath me, tripping me over. I landed with a loud smack of my palms to the ground-- a sudden stinging sensation of pain sprouting through my hands, my knees both scraping on the harsh concrete beneath me. I felt shocked for a moment, but I regained my composure as soon as a familiar voice spoke up.
"Guess you should learn how to stand on your own two feet instead of having others fight your battles for you," I heard Jaden spit out, but I didn't dare lift my eyes to meet his own. I stared down at the ground beneath my feet, noting that it was never a good idea to make direct eye contact with a wolf that was threatening to attack.
"Look at you. You're fucking weak. You can't defend yourself, and you're far too afraid to even say anything back. You're a sorry excuse for a human being, Payne, you really are."
"Jaden, maybe we should go. The owner might come and--" I heard one of his friends begin to say, but Jaden quickly interrupted him.
"Let him come. Who the fuck cares if we get banned from the café? It's not the only place in town to get a decent cup of coffee. Besides, if they welcome vermin like Payne in, then they really need to reevaluate their standards anyway."
I didn't speak a word in response. Defending myself at this point was futile, and I was very aware of the fact. I felt Jaden set his foot down on my back, adding pressure and making me sink lower against the pavement. I grunted in exertion as I attempted to push against the pavement and hold myself up. I was not willing to let my face hit the floor.
"You've got a bit of fight in you today, don't you? It's quite interesting, actually." He added more pressure, pressing me down against the ground. "However, you really should just give up. You're nothing," He spat. "Probably a psycho just like your mum."
The mention of my mum. The mention of her made me freeze up, and I fell flat on the ground beneath Jaden's foot. I felt numb from the inside out, thinking about the fatal accident that my mother caused-- the stinging pain of shards of glass cutting into my skin as if they were searing my flesh; igniting flames which grew hotter, hotter. Suddenly, every bone in my body began to ache, and I felt a rage overcome me, but it was all internal. There was nothing I could do to fight back. It was as if I had no actual control over my physical body. I was trapped inside of my mind-- my memory; my past.
"Honey, slow down," My dad's voice rang out, and I realized that the car was beginning to speed up. The speed limit sign read 45 mph, but it seemed that we were passed that limit as we began to approach the car ahead of us.
"Isn't this fun?" My mum laughed out as she swerved around the car, keeping a steady speed as she did so. Once she was ahead of it, she began to speed up again.
I gripped onto Ruth's hand, which was waiting for mine already. She squeezed tightly onto my smaller hand, almost as if, while she was trying to comfort me, she needed comforting herself. I felt myself begin to shake and tremble as my father's voice rose as we zipped passed several cars.
"Slow down! Are you crazy?" My father yelled, and my mum gave out a laugh as she only sped the car up even more. It was late at night, we were shooting through the darkness like a bullet. The cars around us were honking furiously, many of them pressing their breaks suddenly in an attempt not to hit our car. Everything seemed to be going by much too quickly-- blurs of colour invading my vision.
I squeezed tighter on Ruth's hand, leaning against her side and feeling tears well up in my eyes. She instantly grabbed a hold of my arm and held me closer to her. I saw Nicola glance over at us, and she spoke in a calm manner, which I was never sure how she maintained.
"Mum, Ruth and Liam are here," Nicola tried to reason, but it was as if nothing could get through to our mum. "Mum!" She finally yelled as my mum sped passed a light and continued on into moving traffic.
I felt my heart stop as I squeezed Ruth's hand as tight as possible, and then we all heard the loud honk-- blaring my eardrums and making me jump in fright, my hand slipping out of Ruth's in shock. My father yelled some more, and then... nothing. Nothing. Just pain.
"Hey!" I heard a voice call, and I snapped back to reality, feeling my whole body shaking in fear as the memories slowly washed away. It was light a blinding flash behind my eyelids. I could see it happen, and I could still feel the pain, but I still couldn't remember what led up to that moment. Why did my mum do what she did? Why did she have to ruin our lives?
"Get off of him," I heard the voice again, and I realized that it was Zayn. He was probably just coming in for a shift, and I was bringing trouble his way.
"What? Are you gonna make me? There's five of us and one of you. Besides, I don't think anyone in this town would help the freak," Jaden spat out, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.
"I won't be needing any help," Zayn said, and I felt a shiver run through my body at the darkened tone of his voice. It was threatening, and I didn't want to picture how dangerous he might've looked in that moment. I just wanted to hold onto my image of Zayn smiling and being nothing but soft-- not dark, not menacing.
I felt Jaden lift his foot off of me, and I watched as he stepped around me, moving closer to Zayn. "This may be your café or whatever, but I'm not afraid of getting a fine for beating your ass in front of it."
Zayn didn't respond. Instead, I saw Jaden put one foot back, his arm pulling back to throw a punch. I expected it to land, but I heard a dull thump. I managed to rise to my knees and back up against the outer wall of the café. I glanced up momentarily, seeing that Zayn caught his fist. He wasn't smiling-- not even a little bit. Instead, he looked furious as a fire seemed to ignite behind his eyes, which were usually a gorgeous, calming amber. Now, it was melting.
He twisted Jaden's arm around his back, his palm nearly to the very center of his shoulder blades, and Jaden hissed in pain. "Ah," He cried out, face scrunched up as he tried to talk through the pain. "What the hell? Do something, idiots," He called to his friends.
They were all distracted; looking toward the café windows. I turned to see that a crowd of people had collected by the windows, watching what was happening. The door opened moments later, and I heard Laurence's voice.
"Let him go, Zayn," He said, also sounding angered by the situation. Zayn did as he was told, pushing Jaden away. He stumbled back over to his friends while cradling his arm in pain.
"I'll fucking sue your ass," Jaden yelled, and Laurence stood in front of Zayn.
"You're causing trouble on my property. You might want to rethink that. Trust me. I have more than enough evidence to turn it around on you," He said, pointing up at what must've been security cameras all around the front of the café.
Jaden grunted in defeat, but I could tell he was enraged. He never lost. Ever.
"Let's go," He called to his friends, who were just staring from Zayn to me in surprise and slight fright. "I said let's go. Now!"
They all rushed away after Jaden, and the crowd seemed to disperse from the windows. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped at the sudden contact.
I turned to look at Zayn, but I quickly hid my face, ducking down and looking at the floor. I didn't understand why I was continuously making the mistake of showing my face to him again and again.
My eyes widened in shock as Zayn's hand reached for my chin and lifted my face up. I was staring at him straight on, and he still had that same burning intensity in his eyes.
"When you're with me... don't ever hide your face," He said, and I wanted to shake my head in horror. Did he realize what he was asking of me?
"I can't do that," I said as I tried to look down at the ground again, but Zayn didn't give up so easily. I don't think there ever was a time in his life when he just gave up.
"Then I'll constantly remind you until you're confident enough to hold your head up yourself. Because you're not monstrous, Liam. You're beautiful."
Finally, he smiled that same soft smile he usually wore in my presence. I felt my cheeks heat up, and I hid my face away again, hearing Zayn give out a small sigh as I did.
"C'mon. Let's get you inside, Liam. We can work out your work schedule in my office," Laurence spoke up, reaching out a hand for me to hold. I accepted his help up, Zayn standing up beside me as well, and we stepped into the cafè.
"Your shift started two minutes ago, Zayn. You're never on time, are you?" His uncle teased, and Zayn gave a blinding grin in return.
"Only when the moment calls for it."
With that, we parted ways. Zayn took his place behind the front counter, already beginning to take care of customers, and I accompanied Laurence into his office that was off to the side.
I looked back over at Zayn once, noticing the way he was smiling and laughing along with customers, and I felt a blush coat my cheeks as butterflies erupted inside of me for the first time in my life.
I realized that I admired Zayn and the kind of person he was. He was someone truly special.