Two
Jace
I skip my locker and go right to class this morning, and I don’t pay attention to the faces made behind my back or the paper being tossed at my head before class starts. Nate hangs with his friends most of the day. We don’t have any classes together, only lunch. Clutching my lunch bag to my side, I walk to the courtyard and lower myself onto the sidewalk in a hidden spot along the building. The sun feels amazing on my face and I smile up at the birds flying above me.
I really missed a lot before—only being allowed outside when my dad was home, and even then it was limited. I mostly had to stay in the back yard where there weren’t any trees or flowers and almost everything growing from the ground was dead. It was a small gated area with a tall wooden fence that made me feel more caged in than the house.
People pass by, not paying me any mind as I scoot closer to the wall, facing away from them. Only three things are in my lunch box, since I said no to almost everything my mom tried to give me. She’s been frustrated with how my first week is going, and so am I, but I didn’t choose things to go this way. If I could make life easier for her, Terry, and Nate, I would.
Often I worry that all I do is get in the way of their happy little unit. They don’t post smiling family pics online anymore. Will I ever know what it’s like to be a part of one? I guess we’d all have to be happy in order for the pictures to be good enough to post. Sighing, I stab my Yoo-hoo box with the straw and lean back against the wall, studying the clouds as they form different shapes in the sky.
“That one kind of looks like an alligator eating a donut, don’t you think?” Nate sits beside me, setting his food in front of himself. He has a sandwich, grapes, Doritos, and a Sprite. It looks like real food compared to my peanut butter crackers and fruit leather.
“I don’t know, I see more of a dinosaur kicking a ball myself,” I respond before taking a sip of my drink.
He laughs and his big smile brightens his whole face. Why do I enjoy looking at him so much? Maybe because he’s like sunshine after a rainstorm.
“Is that all you’re going to eat today?” He points to my sorry excuse for a lunch. It was more than I usually got from my dad, and we’d also had to earn the good snacks at the group home by making progress. That kind of reminded me of my old life. My dad had made me earn things too. A shiver runs through me, and goosebumps cover my skin as I remember the last time I told him I needed new shoes.
“What have you done to earn it?” The memory of his voice is like nails on a chalkboard in my head.
I shrug. “Yeah, I’m not too hungry at school.”
“Or at home either.” He lifts his sandwich and takes a small bite, mustard dripping over his bottom lip when he sets it down. “Want a bite?”
“No, I’m okay, thanks.” I look down at the lettuce hanging out of it, my stomach rumbling. Maybe I do want something more than snacks today. “What is it? Ham and cheese?”
“Nope. Turkey.”
My stomach twists and I stiffen.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“I don’t . . . I’m not a turkey fan.” In fact, smelling it now is enough to cause bile to rise in my throat. It’s what I used to feed them . What he made me give them. Turkey and cheese on white bread with a side of fruit punch.
“No? Is it the taste?” he asks, scooting closer.
“Not exactly. I just don’t like it. Can you not get so close with it please.”
His forehead wrinkles and he looks down at the sandwich before his eyes meet mine again. “I’m sorry.” Panic rises in his voice and he quickly gets to his feet to toss his food away in the nearest trash can.
“What did you do that for?” I ask when he sits back down beside me.
“Seeing you so upset didn’t make eating it worth it. I still have my other stuff. I’m not that hungry either.” He forces a smile. “Can you tell me what else you don’t like so I can be more careful next time?”
I frown. “I’d hate for you to have to give stuff up just for me.”
“It’s what brothers do, right?” He pops a grape in his mouth, chewing and smiling at the same time. I don’t have the heart to tell him he has mustard on his lip, but also don’t want him to go the rest of the day walking around with it there, so I grab a napkin from my bag and quickly wipe it away.
“Sorry. It seemed easier in the moment to do it myself instead of telling you. Bad habit.” I’m so used to eating with others who can’t do things on their own, and I don’t know why I can’t permanently leave that damn basement.
“It’s okay.” He takes the napkin from my hand and glances down at the mustard stain. “Thanks. Feel free to stop me from embarrassing myself at school any time you want.”
We both laugh and he offers me a grape. I take it, holding the piece of fruit in my hand for a while before finally eating it. I listen to him rant about the songs he has to sing for choir and the guy who always copies him in algebra. I learn more about the things he doesn’t like instead of telling him about mine. It buys me a little time until the warning bell rings and we’re throwing away all our trash.
“You still haven’t told me about what else you don’t like.”
I zip up my lunch bag and clutch it to my chest. “There are a few random things. Sometimes I don’t even remember I hate them until they’re brought up.”
He nods in understanding and starts walking toward his next class. Mine happens to be close by so I head in the same direction. “How about you tell me as you think of them then?”
“Okay.”
Nate says hi to a friend on our way up the stairs, and after he gets his books from his locker some asshole slaps them out of his hand. “Oh, look who it is. The guy who defends kidnapping freaks.”
“I don’t have time for your shit right now, Kyle. I have to get to class. We all do.”
“No one wants you here anymore. I think the both of you should do the whole school a favor and leave.”
“Fuck you,” Nate blurts, and when he reaches to pick up his books, Kyle shoves him hard to the ground. Anger boils inside me and I quickly move forward, swinging the large book in my hand in the air. The heavy weight comes into contact with his face, knocking the wind out of him. He tumbles to the floor, swearing and gripping his head.
Ignoring the stares, I pick Nate up from the floor, worried I’ll find fear in his eyes. But I don’t. He wraps his fingers tightly around mine and his blue eyes sparkle with . . . I don’t know . . . pride? Triumph? Gratefulness?
I pick up his books and hand them to him right before Kyle lunges at me, tackling me to the ground. We roll around a few times and I manage to dodge his fist more than once. I grab onto his wrist when he swings at me again, twisting hard, and he yelps. It doesn’t get him off me, though. With a beet-red face, he’s madder than ever, and as he’s wrapping his fingers around my neck, someone comes up from behind him, yanking him off.
“Alright everyone, fight’s over. Get to class,” a man says. I don’t recognize him, but judging by his faculty badge he’s a teacher. He turns his attention back to us. “You two to the principal’s office, now.”
“But Jace didn’t do anything wrong. He was only defending himself.”
“Bullshit. He’s a psychopath who probably broke my nose,” Kyle protests.
“You’re a damn bully,” Nate says pointedly. “The only one who should be punished is you.”
“Let me handle this, and you get to class like the others,” Mr. Smith says sternly.
“But—”
“Either do as I ask or you’ll be coming to the principal’s office too.” Nate shoots me an apologetic look and I smile to let him know it’s okay. Seems to be what people do when they want to make another person feel better. It didn’t work on me until him.
“Go.” Mr. Smith rests his hands on his hips, his expression hard.
Without another word, Nate heads to class, unable to stop looking back at me until he disappears down the hall.
“Come on you two.” Mr. Smith waits for us to start walking before he trails behind us. We pick up our pace down the stairs, but my steps slow the closer we get to the front office. Mr. Smith opens the door and only has to give us a look to get us moving again. He tells us to take a seat while he speaks to the principal, and Mrs. Keeley emerges minutes later looking disappointed. “You two again. What happened this time?”
“This freak threatened to kill me and my friends during lunch hour,” Kyle lies.
“I never even saw you during lunch hour,” I shoot back. “I was eating with Nate in the courtyard and didn’t see Kyle until we were on our way to class. He attacked us first.”
“Is this true, Mr. Johnson?”
“No,” he says firmly with a gleam in his eye. I really don’t like this guy.
“ Sometimes you have to fight to remain the one in control. If you don’t take them down, they’ll take you down.”
I resist the urge to pound my dad’s word from my head. They come to me every time I’m scared. I used to cling to them as a lifeline, and I feel like I still do in unexpected situations. They happen so fast and I react on instinct—the one thing I’ve used to protect myself this whole time.
“He’s lying,” I say. “He approached us in the hall, telling us we should do the school a favor and leave, then shoved Nate when we tried to ignore him.”
“Come on, Mrs. Keeley. You can’t possibly believe this criminal over me. Look what he did to my nose.”
She sighs, pinching between her brows. “I’ll be calling both your parents today, and I want you both to attend detention for the week.”
“What?” Kyle’s muscles bulge in his face. “You can’t be serious.”
“Yes, and if you keep lashing out, Mr. Johnson, I’ll make it two weeks. Head to the nurse’s office and have her look at your nose. Maybe she can get you some ice too. And Mr. Thompson.” her heavy gaze lands on me. “Go on and head to class.”
Kyle huffs in annoyance and I quietly grab my backpack, doing as she asks. The rest of the day drags out, especially when I finally reach detention. At least being quiet and listening to instructions has never been a problem for me. Kyle keeps trying to pull his phone out when he thinks no one’s looking, eventually getting it taken away. His nose didn’t end up being broken, only bruised, and while he holds a bag of ice to his face, I focus on the paper they’re making us write. I don’t put my pencil down until it’s time to leave. Kyle, being the asshole he is, slams his shoulder into mine as soon as we’re outside the classroom, flipping me the bird. “You better watch yourself, freak.”
Clenching my fists at my side, I inhale deeply and then exhale, reminding myself he isn’t worth it, and my anger diminishes when Nate comes around the corner, rushing my way. He takes me in his arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says. “Want to take the bus home with me? I think it’s better not to deal with mom and dad until we have to. The next one will be here in fifteen minutes.” He steps back a little, his blue eyes catching the light from a nearby window and I no longer have to remind myself of anything.
“Yeah. Let’s go home.” Maybe if I say it enough, it’ll eventually feel that way. When Nate takes my hand and guides me outside, I’m given hope that anything is possible.