Gareth is an OC friend I created a few years back while fleshing out my big geeky Chan Clan expanded universe headcanon. Yeah.
What had started as a small flurry during English class was two steps away from a blizzard by the time school let out for the day. Tom silently thanked his stepmother for insisting he wear an extra sweater; as superfluous as it had seemed that morning, it was imperative now. Even his winter coat wouldn't be enough.
"It's a miracle we can even see," he muttered, wiping snowflakes from his glasses. Beside him, his best friend Gareth Lane only wore a threadbare denim jacket and a faded blue scarf. No hat, no gloves. Tom frowned; he knew his friend's family was on the poor side, but he wanted to imagine they could at least afford proper seasonal clothing for him. "I wonder if this will effect our attendance at school tomorrow."
"Hey, I wouldn't complain," Gareth chuckled. "Anything to put off another one of Mr. Jones's pop quizzes!"
"Actually, I would look forward to a pop quiz. It always amazes me the variety Mr. Jones gives us with each question, and they really force you to use your brains!"
"Well, that's easy for you to say," Gareth said. "You're the smartest one in the class! And besides, Mr. Jones hates me."
"Mr. Jones isn't particularly fond of anyone," Tom reassured him. "He's always been-"
"Tom, look out!" Gareth suddenly pulled his arm and yanked him onto someone's lawn as a car sped past them, clipping the nearby stop sign. "Are you all right? If he'd hurt you, I-"
"I'm fine." Tom shuddered. "It seems this near-blizzard has rendered everyone blind. I can barely see a foot in front of me, no thanks in part to the accumulation of precipitation on my glasses." He wiped his lenses on his scarf. "Perhaps we should find a place to wait out the storm."
"You can if you want, but if I get home too late Mom's gonna kill me." Tom flinched; a lot of kids said their parents would "kill them" for making a mistake, but given how unstable Gareth's home life was, he couldn't help but fear for the other boy's safety.
"I'm sure they'll understand our unfortunate circumstances," he said. "And it's too dangerous for either of us to be walking these roads anyway."
"I'll be fine, really," Gareth insisted, but Tom took his hand and led him over to a nearby bus stop anyway. "Um, thanks."
"If you'll remember the first time we crossed paths, Gareth, I did promise your days of solitude were at an end," Tom said. Gareth laughed, a hollow sort of sound rather than a geniune expression of amusement.
"It was at the beginning of this year, Tom, how could I forget?"
"Point taken." Tom still hadn't let go of the other boy's hand, even through his gloves he could feel how cold the skin was. "You feel like ice."
"It's no big deal, I don't get sick easily anyway." But Tom took off his coat anyway, draping it over Gareth's thin shoulders. Too thin. It was obvious he wasn't getting enough to eat at home these days.
"This should provide adequete warmth for the time being," he said, and Gareth smiled. This, Tom could tell, was geniune.
"Thank you."
"It's no trouble at all, honestly." He felt Gareth lean closer, their hands joining again to ward off the chill. They sat in silence, watching the snow fall and blind the world, people rushing and seeking shelter. Eventually, they could no longer hear the sound of cars. It was safe to walk again.
"You're coming over for dinner tonight," Tom said, and Gareth offered no protest. Only a smile.
