A/N: Repost of "Cut" from No One Like You because I don't want that collection associated with any series. Remember that this was a high school AU and deals with topics such as depression, self-harm (and there are depictions later on, and imagery of the aftermath)!
This is the only warning I'll give about that - there are graphic depictions of self-harm in this fic!
Some days she wished she didn't have to wear the long-sleeved, albeit thin jacket. She wished that some days she could get through without adding to the checklist on her skin, each mark adding a thin scar. On other days she just wanted to give up, with weekly entries in a small black journal declaring the end. Today was one of those days, but what made it worse was that no act in particular had caused it and that no specific person was to blame for the decision. It felt like the right time.
She scrawled Today's the day in red ink across the page of the book, keeping it half-closed lest someone peer over her shoulder.
"Hey," a cheery voice called out.
April was usually alone in the courtyard by this time of the day. She liked sitting underneath the tree and figuring out if the branches would break from her weight or not in her little book. Or, at least, she used to be alone in the courtyard. More and more lately, Andy Dwyer gave up his lunch hour with his friends to sit outside with her. It was strange; as a popular, jock senior he should have hated being seen with the weird, outcast junior – but he never did and April found that, after the extremely weird first time he came out to talk to her, she liked it. Even today, when her mood should have been further and further from anything remotely happy she liked it.
"Hi," she said in a small voice, waving quickly before closing the book.
"What's on the menu today?" Andy asked, pointing to the brown bag lying on its side in the dirt.
"Tuna salad," April answered, holding her nose to which he laughed and sat down next to her. "I hate it, but my mom made my lunch today and she never knows what to put in there."
April hated most of the girls in the school and nearly every single boy as well, but Andy was pretty cool. She felt like a little kid around him, always making stupid jokes and even trading their lunches often. Twenty minutes, every day, they sat beneath that dumb courtyard tree and told each other bad fart jokes and talked about the subtle differences in fake blood caplets.
"Gross," he exclaimed, still laughing.
Then an awkward silence fell where neither of them said anything for a solid minute. It was pretty common, but that was only when April asked Andy to stop talking. This was the part of their schedule where Andy said something really gross, probably farted, and then they both laughed. April scratched at her left arm instinctively, hoping not to open one of the fresher cuts.
"Hey, can I ask you, uh, something," Andy finally said, looking past April and scratching his head.
"Uh, sure…?" she responded warily, turning to face him.
"Why do you always wear those jackets?" He asked, pointing to the black long-sleeve. "It's, like, a million degrees out here."
"Um," April packed away her books and stood up quickly, "I have to go."
"Just, uhh, text me later then, okay?" He called out to her as she made her way back into the school.
Every day he told her the same thing, and later he would send her a message. Usually it was something stupid and had a joke tacked on to the end, then he would send another apologizing for the dumb joke and April would seriously consider answering it. And he did it every day for the past year, without fail. She wished she could answer without feeling her arms tense up and her mind go completely blank with a response. Face to face Andy was a walking joke who frequently fell over, and she could roll with that, but over an SMS he seemed so serious and, if there was any tone to find, like he was really trying.
That night, while she sat on her bed and stared at a bottle of the little anti-depressants she took and the pain medication her mother had been put on, her phone chimed out a chord that signified Andy's nightly text. Sighing, April put the bottles back under her pillow and swiped her phone to life to check what he had to say. If she was going down, going out with one of the infamous Dwyer knock-knocks would be the perfect way to end it.
hey i rly want to talk please
This was different. He never asked her to do things or even asked to talk to her. For the most part it felt like some strange feed of bad middle-schooler jokes, but he was pretty serious here. Going against every instinct, April quickly typed out an answer.
Ok whats up?
For a little bit April sat there running her fingers across the ripples on her left forearm, looking at each one like another day successfully passed. By now the scar tissue was overwhelming itself and looked more like a clump than anything resembling separate cuts. The first one had scared her, and the blood falling across her arm had stained her clothes and led to questions from her mother, but after that she had gotten better at hiding them. There was something weirdly soothing about seeing the memory of that same act repeated across her arm, but she was broken from the thought by another chime.
can we actuly talk
April gave it some thought while one hand kept stroking the lumps on her arm. He was going to ask questions, just like the shrink, and she knew it. Every bit of her wanted to text back a simple negative and drown in the little brown and white pills, but something else was still sitting there staring at the white box pleading with her. If every instinct had told April to just shut her phone off, something else was already moving over to her contacts and pulling up Andy's name. There was only one ring before he answered.
"What do you want," April asked, already worried that she had made a massive mistake.
"Hey, uhh," he answered, clearly surprised she actually called him. "Um, I'm sorry about earlier but I really want to talk to you about some stuff, if that's okay."
April sat back down and looked up her arm, considering the offer.
"All right," she said, prepared for his barrage of questions.
"Can we talk, like, in person?" Andy asked, mumbling slightly, "JJ's is open and we can get one of the booths in the back or something."
Suddenly it clicked – this was a long con. This was his endgame, his final ace in the hole. Andy had managed to convince her that he was some super sweet, awesome dude that just liked hanging out with her every day at lunch when in reality he was planning to publicly humiliate her. But she would have the last laugh.
"Okay," she answered perhaps a little too cheerfully. "I'll just get some stuff and you can pick me up."
"Cool," Andy said, his voice tinged with an excitement that made April's arm twitch and her chest feel too tiny for her heart, "I'll be there in, like, five."
It was a small enough town that everyone knew everyone, so telling Andy how to get to her house wasn't necessary. April just hung up the phone and grabbed the two bottles of pills and put them in her purse. They'd still get to play their prank, but afterwards the bathroom at JJ's would be a fitting final breath. She did, however, make sure to grab another of the myriad of long sleeved shirts and throw it on before heading downstairs.
After a few minutes of waiting at the bottom of her steps, staring at the front door, she heard someone pull up. Her dad's car sounded a lot less rumbling and huge, so it had to be Andy's truck. Before she could leave, though, her mother called for her from the living room.
"Hon," she asked, "where are you going?"
"Just going out with some friends," April said, giving that same fake smile she always had on when her mother was worried. Neither of them could give a response before a knock came to the door and April opened it up to see Andy waiting there.
"Hey April," he said casually, surveying her face before coughing and looking away. "You ready?"
"Oh Zuzu, who's this handsome young man," April's mother made her way to stand behind her, looking at Andy with a curious expression.
"Hi Mrs. Ludgate, I'm Andy Dwyer," he put his hand up for the older woman to shake it, "I'm, uhh, April's friend."
"Yeah mom, this is Andy, he's a professional hitman," April said, pushing him out of the way and walking out to his truck. "I'm paying him to kill the president."
"Where would you get the money?" Andy asked seriously, looking back to April's mother and waving before following April.
"Prostitution!" she yelled at her mother who shook her head and walked back inside.
Andy laughed and made a face to April who smiled and itched at the skin on her arm. The ride was in complete silence save for the roar of the engine and rattling of an axel well out of alignment. Andy tried saying a few things over the few minutes they were alone in the truck but she never gave in to the desire to say anything in response. Absentmindedly, April scratched her arm and tried not to keep looking back at Andy. Just a few hours ago he was okay with letting her walk away and now here they were, driving off to a diner in the middle of the night to talk. Except April knew that he wasn't trying to befriend her – he wasn't even worried. This was just some grand design.
"Hey Andy," a waitress called out when the two of them had sat down in the farthest booth, "why aren't you at Jake's party?"
"Oh, just hanging out Suzie," Andy answered, nodding to April. The smiling blonde's grin dropped immediately and she raised her eyebrows.
"So, what'll it be?" She asked, suddenly serious and pulling out a small notepad. They both had water, but April was sure he wanted to eat something so after some goading he gave in and ordered a double order of onion rings for the both of them. April loved onion rings, and she knew he knew that.
When the waitress left, Andy sighed and looked around while patting his legs awkwardly. April was just waiting for the group of girls to spring out from behind them or into the diner. If they were coming, they must have been late.
"Why did you ask me to talk to you at some crappy diner," April finally asked, crossing her arms.
"You know how I say you can always talk to me," he replied, stopping his tapping and looking directly at her. "Well, I know… y'know, I know what's up."
April uncrossed her arms and looked down, glancing through her eyelashes up at Andy. His face was serious and he looked a little uncomfortable.
"Listen, I'm sorry… I just," he started but sighed and took a different tone. "My cousin hung himself yesterday."
"I'm sorry," April whispered, picking at her sleeve, "but what does that have to do with this?"
"April, c'mon," he said sincerely, hunching over the table. "You gotta know there are people that care."
Now he really did sound like her shrink, except there was something in his voice that made his words ring a little less hollow than what she heard every other week. It was the same old shtick repeated over and over again – people cared, it wasn't worth it, blah blah blah. They didn't have to deal with the thought that life was just an ever-turning wheel that barreled over their lives, leaving them crushed and trying to wipe off the dust while the wheel came back for another round.
"Seriously Andy, just cut the shit," she slapped the table. "Tell them to come out, you got me."
"What?" Andy asked, looking genuinely confused. "Who?"
"Where are they hiding, hm?" April looked behind the booth and opened the door to the ladies' room to their left, expecting to see a gaggle of idiots waiting to pounce.
"I mean JJ's probably in the back, but Suzie's the only one that waits the night shift here," he pointed behind his back at the effervescent blonde serving two heavyset men at the bar.
"So you just wanted to talk to me?" April mumbled, playing with the rolled up napkin and silverware on the table, "like, just us?"
"Yes!" he proclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief.
April scoffed but rolled her lips in an attempt to hide a smile and keep some tension away from her eyes. She had called it wrong. He was just trying to be helpful and, suddenly, the bottles in her purse felt way heavier than before. Or it was a really good con, but April somehow didn't believe Andy was capable of that level of cruelty.
"Okay, let's talk then," she conceded, resuming the crossed arms and expectant expression.
"Well, I just… I can't relate to what's goin' on in there," Andy said, pointing to his own head, "but, I wanna know. Maybe I can help."
"Why do you keep trying?" April shook her head during the question, finally spilling out the thought that had been running through her mind that whole day.
He was supposed to be like the rest and just forget about considering her whatsoever. This wasn't supposed to happen in any way. The only real possibility was dashed away when it was obvious that Andy wasn't trying to play some sort of practical joke on her. She scratched her arm again, ignoring the way it looked in the middle of the restaurant.
"Because I think you're really cool, and cool people shouldn't have to feel this way," Andy half-smiled and shook his head. "Plus, it's nice when you smile y'know."
"Thanks," April said in an almost inaudible voice, trying to keep the corners of her lips from shifting upwards. "But it's not like I can just stop it."
"I know," Andy sighed, sounding almost a little defeated, "but we can try, right? Like, is this working?"
She bit her lip and considered it for a moment. The thought of swallowing a handful of mixed prescriptions did sound less pleasing as the night wore on, but those lulls always happened and she knew the thoughts came back.
"I dunno," she admitted.
"I got an idea," Andy said, pushing himself forward. "How about you answer my texts every night, and every once and a while we go out and do something. Just us, and we can talk or we won't it doesn't matter."
"Um," April stuttered, unsure of how to process his plan, "I mean… ugh, sure."
Andy's face cracked into a smile and April found herself begrudgingly returning one. After a few moments of silence the onion rings arrived, smashed together in a massive pile between the two of them. When Andy went to reach for one and shoveled it into his face, a thought occurred to her.
"Wait, are you asking me out?" April asked him, suddenly hyperaware of the situation. They were alone, talking about incredibly personal things, and eating greasy food together while they talked about what they would do later. This was totally a date.
"Uhh, sure I guess," Andy said through a mouthful of fried onion. "That sounds pretty cool, right?"
"I guess yeah, but am I gonna have to, like, be there with your girlfriends or something?" April was incredibly unsure of what was unfolding and wanted to make sure she wouldn't be walking into an actual trap.
"I said it'd just be us," he mumbled, "and why do you think I've got a bunch of girlfriends?"
"I dunno, you're, like, one of the most popular guys in school," she said, chewing on the onion ring and savoring the messy food. "And I'm pretty sure I spend more time digging through garbage for maggots than worrying about going on dates."
By now the scribbled words in red in that little book meant absolutely nothing and felt further and further away from reality. April was sure that if she opened up to where she imagined the page to be that nothing would be written there at all.
"Yeah, and that sounds awesome," Andy nodded vigorously, "and you're, like, way cuter than any other girl in Pawnee."
April stopped eating her food and took a moment to let the comment process itself before going to pretending he had never said that. Full denial mode was a pretty sure bet, she figured. There was no other way April could make it seem like his comment had taken its toll on her. Something was giving her away though, because Andy craned his neck and gave her a smile that looked ready to explode into laughter.
"Oh my God," he half-shouted, pointing an onion ring at her, "you're blushing!"
"Shut up, no I'm not," April argued, holding up her arm to cover her face.
"Hey Suzie, I made April blush!" Andy shouted to the waitress and chuckled before turning around. "So all I have to say is you're cute and you stop being all super serious, urgh, bad girl April?"
Her eyes widened and she tried to look away from him. What was happening? Less than an hour before she was ready to chug pills and here she was laughing and blushing. Andy was a really weird guy, she decided. April always liked weird.
"That's not fair," she said, throwing an onion ring at him in defense. "I can't say you're cute and get a rise out of you."
Andy wiped the onion ring from his shoulder and returned her look with a straight face. He picked up another one of the rings slowly and pulled it in half, looking at both of them momentarily he made a split decision to throw both halves at her face. After a second, April wiped the grease from her face and gave him a scandalized look.
"Well, I never," she yelled in a horrifying mess of a Southern Belle, "I reckon you're no gentleman, sir."
She took his brief confusion as an opportunity to attack, picking up a handful of rings and tossing them at Andy. They struck him by surprise and Andy picked up the remaining basket of the things and dropped them onto April as he stood up.
"Make your play, Ludgate." He said, walking towards the exit of JJ's. "I'll see you in the truck."
April stood up and let the onion rings fall onto the ground and chased after him. Apparently she had snuck up on him, because he made no move to turn around and intercept her. In an attempt to slow him down, April's first instinct told her to jump on his back. So she did. Somehow she thought that an eighty-pound girl would be able to do anything to stop him from moving save from injecting something in his neck. After wrapping her arms around his neck to try and hang on, things started to sink in. She was riding on the back of a boy, still carrying those bottles of medication, and was having a good time. April who just days ago didn't even think about anyone in the school in a romantic light, was piggybacking Andy Dwyer.
"Dude, you're all sweaty," Andy complained, "ew."
"Oh yeah, you try wearing these dumb shirts all day," she explained, not thinking about the implication of her words. "Shit gets hot."
"Then just, y'know, don't wear 'em," Andy chuckled, moving out to the cooler night air.
April knew she had said too much and quieted.
"Oh, sorry," he apologized. "I shoulda, um, thought about that."
"Nah it's fine," she said into his shoulder.
"I know we're going at this slow," Andy said, holding onto April's wrists, "but why do you do that?"
"There's control there," April murmured, happy to be supported by Andy's weight. "I can make a decision and it has real, physical consequence afterwards. It's really cathartic."
"Well, I don't know what, like, half of those words mean," Andy continued, "but I dunno man, it's kinda weird to think about."
"It's not your problem Andy so stop trying to make it yours," April hissed.
"I really like you, and you're technically my girlfriend now, so I think it is," Andy responded, letting her down and turning around to face her.
April had seen her parents try the same tactic. They were just as full of conviction and sure their superior position would help them win over their daughter, but that never worked. Andy was trying to act the same, but something about his words was different. It felt very different.
"Why's that?" she asked, raising her hands in active protest. "Because you talked to me, like, twenty minutes out of the day for months suddenly you know me?"
"Well, I- uh, no," Andy finally sputtered out, "but I'm not gonna just sit here and watch you do this."
"I knew there was some weird ulterior motive," April slapped her forehead in mock drama. "You're trying to be the big man and fix me or something stupid. Andy, that doesn't work-"
"I'm not trying to do anything!" He finally screamed, the first she had ever heard his voice go above his admittedly loud laugh. "I'm just… you smile when I'm around, and that's so cool. Then you go home and you're sad and do stuff and it makes me feel weird about what I'm supposed to do."
"It's not about you," April tried to explain, shaking her head. "It's not going to be about you – you could be the best guy on the planet and I'm still gonna think like this."
"I just want to help," Andy said quietly, dropping his hands from his head. "Tell me what to do."
"I'll answer your texts every day," she said, repeating his words from earlier, "and then we can go out, just us, and do something. We'll definitely talk. You can't make decisions for me, though."
"Deal," he responded slowly.
April made her way back to the truck, climbing into the passenger seat and waiting for Andy to follow her. That talk almost felt adult and it made her stomach squirm in frustration that they came to a reasonable compromise instead of devolving into a fist fight. When Andy returned, his face was back to the bright expression from earlier in the night.
"Hey, I just want you to know," he said while adjusting the rear-view, "that I've never been on a date with a food fight."
"Yeah?" April asked, curious as to why this was coming up.
"Yeah and to tell you the truth, probably the best one I've ever been on," he flashed her a smile and she returned it briefly.
Maybe this was how she was supposed to deal with everything, April thought. Escapism wasn't totally valid, at least according to her psychologist, but perhaps that wasn't what was going on either. Genuine laughter and not even considering otherwise frequent thoughts seemed to her a good way to solve the problem. On the ride back to her house, and after when she said goodnight to him, April decided she was pretty glad Andy Dwyer sat down and talked to her one confusing day at school.