CHAPTER 3
Going to the dance with Alexis Rhodes should have been a wish come true, but the whole situation reeked of obligation, definitely on his part and probably on Alexis' as well. He couldn't imagine a scenario that would make the Obelisk girl choke down her dislike long enough to publicly go on a date with him.
Making his way down the winding dirt road, he considered his options. Mostly, it came down to two: he could cancel and hope her intentions weren't pure so her feelings wouldn't get hurt, or go and most likely disappoint her. Or embarrass her. Or do any number of things he tended to do that ruined anything good he accidentally stumbled into.
There really should be some kind of light out here, he thought to himself after tripping over yet another large dark object in his path. The sky was almost pitch black, with virtually no stars and only a hazy half moon. He stayed out a lot longer than intended, so he'd need to make a late night out of it if he intended to get any homework done.
Which he did.
Probably.
He was almost to the stairs when he noticed Hassleberry rounding the corner of the Slifer building, evidently coming from the basement where laundry services and the other facilities were located.
"Soldier," Hassleberry nodded, somehow managing to make the greeting sound formal in an oxymoronic kind of way.
"Dumbass." Chazz returned, crossing his arms.
"The Sarge left some things in your room, told me to tell ya if I saw ya. Also," he rooted around in the binder Chazz just noticed he was carrying, "heard through the grapevine you're going to the dance. Here's information about it. Dress code, that sort of thing."
"Dress code?" He snorted. Everyone was probably going to wear their uniforms like they always did, even on the weekends. He was confident most of the students here didn't own anything else.
"Forgot who I was talking to," Giving Chazz's tattered jacket a pointed look, Hassleberry turned on his heel and was on his way to wherever the hell he went when not following Jaden like a lost puppy.
He glanced down at the paper before deciding he didn't care. It crumpled easily in his hand despite the thick card stock used. He shoved it into his pocket to fester with all the other garbage he collected there and climbed the stairs to the second floor.
His room was mostly as he left it, dark and disorganized, except for a new pile of books that teetered dangerously on one corner of his cluttered desk. The thought of that idiot in his dorm while he was away made him growl in irritation. He really, really needed to start locking the door.
The top book ended up being the exact one he needed to complete today's homework from Professor Stein. Plopping down angrily in the desk chair, he fully intended to start working. If he didn't start soon, he likely wouldn't get any sleep. However, he found himself unable to do anything but glare at the cover.
"Stupid slacker, putting more effort into making sure someone else does their homework than doing his own," he seethed, barely able to contain the anger. What was that guy's deal anyway? He knew Chazz wanted nothing to do with him, he had to know. So why was he always doing things for him? Trying to do things with him? For fuck's sake, Chazz literally spat on Jaden once and that didn't stop him from wiping it off his cheek and making some pun about it that didn't make sense while doing finger guns. Who the fuck did finger guns?
With that bizarre thought as the last straw, Chazz picked up the stack of books and threw them across the room as hard as he could. Their pages flipped erratically in the air before they crashed into the wall and landed scattered across the floor.
He sat there in silence, gripping the edges of his desk until his fingers hurt. This was when he should try calming down. It probably didn't help that, rather than meditating or counting to ten — or anything pop psychologists teach people to do — he kept replaying every annoying thing Jaden Yuki ever did.
Fuck, all this tooth grinding was going to ruin his expensive orthodontic work.
Finally, Chazz took a deep breath and stood, making the connection of orthodontics to brushing his teeth in preparation of some much-needed shuteye. Set on this new course of action, he started toward the door when his boot landed on one of books he'd thrown. It slid several feet with him on it, before slipping out from under him. His hands failed to catch him as his skull rushed toward the floor. Thud.
He didn't move. Instead, he let the intense goddamn throbbing in his head distract him from any homicidal ideation he may have previously experienced. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw a black shadow moving out of the corner of his bleary eyes.
Good, he thought. I probably have a FUCKING concussion.
"Boss?" Ojama Yellow lowered himself a safe distance near Chazz's shoulder. "Did you hurt yourself?"
"I didn't need to, the floor did that on its own." He snarled.
"You seem like you're in a bad mood, boss" Ojama Black observed. "Maybe you should lie down."
"I am lying down."
"You could make some tea! You seem to really like tea lately—"
Chazz slammed his fist on the floor, probably looking completely ridiculous in his current state. "I DON'T NEED YOUR INPUT."
Silence.
He wanted badly to check for blood in the mirror, get over his pride and follow the Ojamas' advice. Unfortunately, he already yelled at them for offering it so now his hands were tied. That didn't make sense, but he just suffered a head injury. Plus, out of all the things he ever claimed to be, wise was not among them. So the dirty, uncomfortable floor is where he stayed until his eyelids fluttered shut.
xxx
He wore his Obelisk blue uniform as he pushed past faceless students until reaching Tori and the other guy. They turned toward him as soon as they came into focus, ready to listen to what he had to say.
"Where the fuck have you two been?" He demanded, stopping abruptly in front of them with a scowl twisting his features. His hands balled up in fists, ready to strike if anyone sufficiently pissed him off.
Tori hesitated. "Sorry, Chazz. We didn't mean to upset you."
"You didn't upset me," Chazz yelled in his inexplicably southern face. "You—"
Just then, a whistling filled Chazz's head, and he fell to his knees clutching at his temples. Tori and the other Obelisk went down as well. The whistling kept growing louder, filling every inch inside his skull with pain and sound. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to do much of anything else.
After what felt like an eternity, a pair of hands gripped his wrists and pulled him up. Jaden Yuki's soft brown eyes met Chazz's dark gray. He was saying something, but Chazz couldn't hear him. He wanted to take his hands back, cover his ears.
Jaden seemed to realize Chazz couldn't hear him, so he pulled him across the room, away from the other boys. Suddenly, the whistling began to fade, but now sounds were muffled, like it had damaged his hearing. Jaden was telling him it was coming from those two — he pointed for emphasis — and if they separated they'd be fine.
Chazz turned his head languidly over to his… the other two, in a daze. He felt like he was underwater. Jaden slowly led him into his Obelisk dorm room, next door from where they were. The room was dark, but sufficiently illuminated by lights outside that he could see several people were strewn about, some in chairs, some sitting on the floor. His vision swimming, he turned to see Jaden had left him alone with them.
"Get out." He heard himself say to the faces he didn't recognize. His voice came out like it was buried, almost inaudible to himself. "Get out!" He repeated, and he could almost hear it that time. "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!"
The strangers looked at him like he was crazy, but obeyed. Slowly, they stood from their places and walked single file out of the room. The last one closed the door behind him.
Still feeling weird and perplexed, Chazz went over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp. Everything looked gauzy under the warm light. With unsteady feet, he walked to the foot of the bed and laid down.
It took him a moment to realize the light was off.
He sat up, panicked. The room was darker than before. He trained his dizzy eyes on the lamp, located next to a window with sheer white curtains pulled shut.
A black silhouette watched him from the other side of the window.
"Ja—" He called, but his voice faltered. An overwhelming sense of dread filled his chest. He tried again and again, but nothing came out of his throat.
xxx
Opening his eyes, he was relieved to find himself on the floor of his Slifer dorm room. Relieved might be the wrong word, but after that dream he would accept it as close enough. He rolled over onto his back, testing the arm he'd fallen asleep on. It was horribly sore, but nothing a few stretches couldn't fix.
The clock on his desk, hidden partially under some papers he'd long forgotten about, read 4:21 am.
"Pleasant dreams?"
His eyes snapped in the direction of the same voice he'd heard in the cafeteria.
Once again, nothing was there.
xxx
He stood in the shower, water beating down on his bruised temple and giving him a slight headache. There didn't appear to be permanent damage done, at least, so no visits to Miss Fontaine were necessary.
He still felt like shit, though.
Memories of the dream kept him awake most of the night. Something about it kept nagging the back of his mind, and it was proving damn hard to forget.
The intense dread kept coming back. Right when he thought he'd staved it off, it started creeping around in his chest again. It was distracting, to say the least. Devastating to say the most.
He didn't ask the Ojamas about what he heard. They might not have even been around, and he was pretty sure he didn't want to know what they'd say. That left only one choice.
Suppress it.
He inhaled deeply, leaning his head farther back into the cascading water. Suppressing shit was something he could do. Has been doing for years now. Just… suppress…
His knees stung as they hit the faux porcelain floor. That was going to bruise later. He held his breath in an attempt not to cry, but hot tears traced their way down his cheeks anyway.
Goddammit. This was not suppression. This is the exact opposite of suppression. Although, he figured it was just a matter of time before he failed that too.
Always fucking failing.
He was beginning to think that if he were his own brother, he would have disowned him too. If only it were possible to disown oneself. He should look into that. For now, he needed to deal with this stereotypical nervous breakdown in this very public men's shower room. Anyone could walk in and see what a mess he was, and then they'd somehow get an even lower opinion of him than they already had. Then they could tell other people about it, and the entire school would alternate between taking pity on him and ridiculing him, just like in first year.
All because some asshole couldn't hear weeping in the showers and leave well enough alone.
Chazz really really hated this hypothetical person.
He latched onto that anger. Anger was familiar, unlike crying into a bathroom floor. So what if he'd done that once or twice already? He didn't make a habit out of it and that's what mattered right now.
Composing himself, he stood up and shut off the water.
I should be good to go until next year.
That sounded fine.
With renewed energy, he swiftly got dressed and went back to his room. There, he did the most sensible thing he'd done in a very long time. He went to his bedside table and opened up the drawer, revealing three bottles of pills. One was Aspirin, for the headaches his fellow Slifers frequently gave him. Another was a common anti-psychotic Slade posted after the school nurse sent word to him that Chazz had been caught yelling at thin air several times and the faculty was growing concerned. He wasn't sure how his brother obtained a psychiatric prescription for him without personally speaking to a therapist first, but sometimes being rich got people things they really shouldn't have.
His fingers wrapped around the third bottle. A quick look at the label told him the expiration date long passed, but who knew what the fuck that meant with regard to pills? Not him.
He swallowed his antidepressant without water and placed the bottle back in the drawer.
Today, he remembered to sort through his bag to get rid of any books that didn't belong and replace them with some that did. He had a few minutes left to finish his homework, which he just managed to get done. He grabbed it and his late paper then headed off to the main building.