Craig kept jerking awake in class. The sound of the heaters, that soft buzz and rush of hot air, the teachers' voices in their steady monotones, he kept slipping into sleep. The way the sky looked outside the windows, so bright blue, hurting his eyes if he looked at it too long, that made him sleepy, too.
"Craig," Mr. Simpson's soft voice, the gentle shaking of his shoulder. Craig blinked awake, uncertain of where he was or who was talking to him. School. Media Immersion. He'd fallen asleep again.
"Sorry, I just had this late night…" trailing it off, a lie anyway. Mr. Simpson looked at him kind of sadly and Craig knew he knew. Joey told him. He remembered when he fell asleep in his class on the first day of school and he slammed his locker lock down on the desk in front of him. That's when he thought he was just a regular kid, just sleeping because he stayed up late playing video games or something.
He looked at Emma when he saw her in the halls, thinking of how she had such a cool mom who listened to her and didn't get so angry. At the barbecue at her house he'd been so jealous, so jealous of her and the adults in her life. He could taste the jealousy, it filled his mouth.
He ate lunch with Sean, and Sean didn't push it. Sean played things cool, but Craig remembered what he said, how he had to leave his parents. He listened to the babble of all the conversations, he could hear them all at once and it made its own sound. He closed his eyes and it seemed to get louder. Things had to change. Today. There. He'd made a decision.
"You okay?" Sean said, swigging from his can of soda. Craig looked at him and nodded.
"Yeah. I'm good,"
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After school, the sun bright but cold. Craig felt the weight of his school bag over his shoulder. He walked the few blocks that it took to get to the car lot where Joey worked. He licked his lips and felt his heart beating, every thump echoing in his head. He felt fear but it was distant and small, like a little dot of fear on the horizon that he could block out if he put his hand up. It was time. Time to leave.
Joey noticed him while he was still outside the fence and he saw the slight surprise on Joey's face, saw him say something to the customers he was talking to, saw him excuse himself. He came over.
"Craig, uh, hi. What are you, uh, why are you here?" His tone was softly questioning, and he took Craig's arm and lead him to the little building that housed the office. Craig followed him in, and sat in the dim small room that smelled like cars. He looked at the glass paperweight that sat on Joey's desk.
Craig cleared his throat. Maybe this would be harder than he thought. He looked at the cheap pine paneling on the walls of the office, looked at the weird patterns of sun that fell on them through the windows.
"Joey, um, my dad, he, he…" Craig closed his eyes, felt tears wanting to start, "he hits me,"
He opened his eyes and saw Joey looking at him all sad and concerned. He let out his breath. He hated this. Hated this sympathy and pity, but what could he do? It was a pitiful pathetic situation.
"He hits me all the time and I, uh, I don't want to go back there,"
Joey nodded.
"Okay. Craig, it's okay, it'll be okay. You can stay with me tonight. I'll call your father and I'll take care of it. You'll be safe tonight, okay? Just, um, I'm gonna close up this place early and we'll go, okay?"
Craig nodded, feeling relief and fear course through him in equal measure.