Even
Sometimes, Even hikes to the lake. He sits by and watches the waves ripple. There were ducks a few days ago. Sometimes, he strips down and jumps in. The sting of the ice cold water makes him feel more alive than anything else. It's ok, though. He likes it. The solitude. The undercurrent of wildlife buzzing through the air. It's his and it isn't and there's something beautiful about that.
Even's sitting at the edge of the lake, legs dangling in the water, bare body molding against the rocky ledge. The air is clearer here than the air in the city. Clear of the bullshit and everything else that makes him hate his school and the people there. Blond curls briefly flit behind his eyelids and it takes a moment for him to remember to scoff at it.
Even Bech Næsheim is a little fucked up. 'A result of a toxic home environment,' one of his teachers had written on his report card. He hit a lot of kids that year. He doesn't do it anymore. Or, at least, as much as he used to. That might be a lie, but it doesn't really matter anymore. All he cares about is the way the frozen morning air feels in his lungs. It feels like he isn't running away.
"How are you doing, momma?" Even crawls into bed with her, resting his head against her chest. It's been a long time since she's had the energy to hold him like she used to, and he's missed the way she smells.
"Good as ever, sweet boy." She kisses his hair and lifts his chin to look at his face. "Shouldn't you be leaving for school soon?" Even buries his face in her neck and groans.
"I don't know why you think it's so important. I'm just going to take over the farm, high school isn't going to help me, Ma." It's a road they've been down almost every day since the start of his senior year.
She fixes him with a glare, that might be menacing if she didn't look so weak. If her hair wasn't as limp and her skin as sallow. Pulmonary infection. He's heard it from countless doctors in countless ways, and it still knocks the air out of him when he sees it. Sees his mom deteriorating, even when a soul that bright shouldn't fade as quickly as it seems to be. They've been given ten more years, and Even is determined to make them the best ten years she's ever had.
"Get your ass to school, baby. I don't want to hear it today." He nods once, resigned, and smiles down at her before heading out the door. He fills the cattle feeder and makes his way on the familiar path down the mountain.
His momma is the most beautiful woman Even's ever known. Her tan skin and dark hair contrast his pale features that remind him that he's not really hers, but she's never really let him feel it. She's his momma, and even though questions about his mom -the woman she doesn't talk about- sit at the tip of his tongue, he's her boy. He's the one who gets her medicine and picks her fresh flowers, and he's the one who holds her after her husband leaves for the hundredth time that month. They're a family.
Even's trek to school is a long one. Two whole hours. An hour and a half long hike through the mountains and then a bus ride to the hellhole that is his school. It's a bitch and a half on a good day, and when it snows, Even thinks about jumping in the lake and never coming back up. He's never serious, not really. He's got his momma and the farm to take care of. He wouldn't do it. It's just a comforting thought.
"Get in, kid." The bus driver says the same thing everyday and everyday, Even adds to his list of ways to kill the man. He has 349 so far.
He's halfway through the ride before he remembers his incomplete calculus homework, and he figures he's probably fucked anyway, so he closes his eyes and lets sleep take him far from the road to Nissen.
"Mr. Bech Næsheim, this is the third time this week, I can't let it slide anymore, son." Even looks up at his teacher blankly, before returning his gaze to the equally blank worksheet in her hands.
"I just didn't have time. Sorry." He knows he should probably give more of a shit, but he really can't. The bright red 12 on the page means nothing to someone destined to cattle and hay.
"I'm giving you this week. That's it. Get it together or we're going to be having this conversation with the headmaster." He can feel the other students' eyes on him, but Valtersen's gaze from the door ignites something in Even and, really, you can't blame him for tripping the asshole as he walks by.
Fucking prick thinks he can judge me? Even whips his head back and loudly scoffs at the boy's audacity to look scandalized. If he weren't in a classroom, he'd probably spit on him.
Isak Valtersen. He doesn't like him. He just doesn't. The kid has everything too easy. Good grades. Good friends. Probably has parents that love him. Even fucking hates him.
He's gay too. Out and everything. Everytime he looks at Even, he can't help but feel a little gross. He's probably imagining him naked or something, and that irks the hell out of him. He's not homophobic or anything, but he just doesn't swing that way. Gives as good as he gets, though, and that's something Even can respect. He never just backs down, which is why he supposes the kid is so much fun to fuck with.
Still. Even really fucking hates him.