Step 19: Don't lie

Chapter Ten: Blue City

My mom let me stay home for a couple of days, maybe for compensation. She nearly screamed at my face in horror when I went downstairs for dinner. Obviously her anger had washed away and she was now able to notice my screwed up face.

'I got bashed up by some drunk on the way home,' I said the first thing that came to my head, but with a very calm and cold voice that sounded like nothing but the truth. And I added, 'That was why I was late.'

She sobbed and hugged me, apologising over and over again for not noticing my pain and yelling at me blindly. But as I felt her large body sink warmness into me, all I felt was cold. I couldn't care less about her apology, because it wasn't her fault. It was my fault for not telling her, and it would remain that way. I felt empty. But at least she let me stay home to see if my face would calm down. I practically had cold patches all over my face to cool for days, and it helped.

On the second day I received a text from Stan. As I read his name on my phone, those four letters suddenly seemed so foreign to me. I couldn't register them, and I don't think it was because we hadn't talked since our fight on Monday.

"Dude, why weren't you at school yesterday? I'm sorry about the fight. I'm not mad anymore."

You're not mad anymore? The voice inside my head was filled with sarcasm, but then I noticed that I wasn't mad either. In fact, I just couldn't care.

"I'm just a little sick dude. I will try and be back by tomorrow."

The swelling mellowed down by the time I went back to school, and all that was left was a cut lip and one black eye that I hid with an eye patch. The eye patch was a fashion statement, or because I had an itchy eye. I don't know, it depended on my mood. But people bought it, at least, most did.

But the one guy who looked at me with worried eyes didn't say anything. He was too preoccupied with his first girlfriend. And who could that have been if it wasn't Bebe Stevens? Silently, I snickered coldly. Who could be better for the perverted playboy Kenny McCormick but the Queen Bitch of sluts Bebe Stevens?

'Well, that's Kenny for ya!' Stan cheered as we saw the two sneak into the janitor's closet. It was nice when Stan was amused, it made him smile. But I wasn't amused; I was too tired to be. The only thing I could do was sit quietly and lean my head against Stan's shoulder and feel his warmth. Normally, such an action would have made me explode from embarrassment, but I didn't even have the energy for that. Even as I felt Stan's girlfriend come up to us and ask if something was wrong with me, I stayed silent and leaned against my unrequited love.

'You know, if I didn't know better I would say you two were a gay couple.' I heard Wendy's voice joke in the distance, and Stan's chuckle followed.

'You better be careful Wendy, or I might dump your ass for his.'

They both laughed and slapped each other playfully, not even knowing how their little conversation made my heart cringe with ache.

'Hey Stan?' Wendy began, what seemed to be a more serious conversation by the way her chuckle died down. Stan hummed in question. 'Would it be okay if I go to one of your "study sessions"?'

I flung my eyes wide open in surprise at that question, and I think Stan did the same too.

'Why?' Stan murmured.

'Oh, you know? I could do with a bit of studying myself. And what's better to do than doing it with your friends?'

Her voice was cheerful, but it didn't help my brain spinning in slight panic. My Mondays— the Mondays with Stan that I used to charge my mental state up were going to be accompanied by Stan's girlfriend?

'I don't care. Ask Kyle.' Stan muttered, his words nothing but sharp glass to my chest. But of course he wouldn't have cared.

I lifted my eyes up tiredly, acting as if I had just woken up, and was met by two chocolate eyes turned blurry in my vision. Somehow, even with the blur, my heart thumped.

'Sure.' I answered the most civil answer; the answer that I didn't want to give.

Oh God. My life was beginning to drown in misery. But even those words lacked emotion.

And so, Wendy had joined our Monday study sessions, but not all of them. Somewhere inside me I hoped that it was Stan that convinced Wendy not to come every week, but why ever it was, I was glad that she only came occasionally. In the end, it was the most that I could ask for, especially while everything else were beginning to escalate.

As usual, what had been going on for over a year now, there were bruises on my torso. Kick, punch, squeeze, hit, the usual, the usual. But now there were other marks. New marks. And the worst thing about them was that they too, were becoming a "usual" mark.

When I took Eric's punches and kicks behind the school I would be biting grinding my teeth, tensing my body into a hard rock to take all that he had. But as soon as his attitude changed and when his hands shot at me in a different way, that was when I panicked.

'No! Stop!' I had never said that to his violence, because I got used to them only too quickly. But these… these you could never get used to.

'Shh… Kahl, do you want people to hear you?' Eric whispered as his lips moved from my neck to my ear. I whimpered in attempt to shut up, but the second his lips moved to my mouth I began screaming into his throat.

'No! Stop! Stop! I said stop!'

He growled in frustration, then he came down to whisper something darker into my ear, smoky eyes piercing straight through mine.

'Shut up now Kyle. Or I will rape you.'

His voice was so firm, so cold and so clear that it would instantly shut the mouth of a crying baby. And with words even more cruel than his voice, he instantly shut my mouth with ease.

I would stay quiet, my body silently shaking underneath him as he slowly ate me, tasted me. His lips, his tongue and his teeth travelled all over my torso and lower neck. And then the marks- the evidence that he left on me, the proof that he ate me, will be all over my chest and my stomach; the bruises of teeth and lips.

He would leave my aching body in the snow and go enjoy the rest of his lunch, while I stayed and let the cool of the snow recharge me as much as possible.

In the distance, I heard boots crunching snow, but my brain didn't register the sound. I simply continued to lie there in the snow, my arms and legs opened wide as I stared into the thick winter clouds in the sky.

'Oh, wow! Didn't think anyone would be here.' I knew that surprised voice, but still I stared into the sky without blinking. But in the distance, I heard that surprised voice stop its breath in confusion as he registered who I was, and he began to walk towards my lying frame.

'What are you doing here, Kyle?' The blond asked as he leaned over me. My blank eyes moved from the sky, motionless to Kenny, staring into his icy-blue orbs looking back down at me. But somehow, he averted his eyes slightly in reaction when our eyes suddenly met. He hovered them back into my gaze though, quickly, and I answered him.

'I'm making a snow angel. What does it look like?' I was joking, but my expressionless face and blank voice made the blonde's chuckle twitch in confusion of what to do.

And so I asked, 'what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be in some closet fucking Bebe?'

'Jealous?' He smirked, but unaffected by his words, I simply stared at him and his playful smile. It was a funny thought, really. If I simply unzipped my jumper and lifted up my shirt, showed him my torso and neck, I would be able to turn that smile upside down. He would gape at my skin in shock, and probably lose all words. I smirked at the thought, but didn't follow through with it.

'Yeah, I'm so totally jealous.' I said instead, the amused smirk still on my lips. But to my surprise, my response made Kenny lose all words nonetheless, even if it were only for a mere instant.

'Nah- I only came here for a smoke.' He said, changing topics and taking out a stick and lighting it. Normally, the action would make me scoff in disgust and walk away, I hate people who smoke, but this time as I watched him slide the small stick into his mouth I almost felt the urge to take it and stick it in my mouth.

As he smoked there in silence, all I could do was lie down and watch. His mouth parted, rested the cigarette on his lips, sucked the smoke in lightly, then breathed a soft grey ghost of air into the winter sky.

'Aren't you gonna get up?' Kenny finally asked, disconnecting my concentration on the cancer stick resting on his lips.

'Maybe.'

But in reality, I couldn't. Although I didn't show it over my expressionless face, my stomach still hurt from Eric a few minutes ago.

He blinked at me troublingly as I stared up at him, still expressionless, but my face finally rose into the emotion of surprise when a hand was given to me.

'Here,' Kenny said, extending his arm. Confusedly, I reached out my own hand in response and squeaked in pain when I was suddenly hurled up by his strong force.

'Ah- Are you okay?' He blinked in confusion and worry, noticing how I cringed from his help.

'Yeah, I'm fine.'

But I could still feel his worried eyes on me as I walked away, holding my stomach and arching my back as my feet dragged behind.

.

Why couldn't I go to sleep?

I twisted myself to the side, getting tangled in my own sheets, but that didn't help one bit. My head was light as if there was no brain inside, but so heavily cold at the same time that the mere thought of falling asleep was impossible. The moonlight that shone through the window was too bright, the sound of my parents' snores in the distance was too loud, it was too cold in that winter bed and my brain was too tensed to relax.

The number one and the two letters A and M glowed red in the midnight room, making me sigh.

The sound of me sliding out of my sheets and into the coldness of my room seemed so loud in my hollow head, and as I wiggled my jeans on and wrapped myself with my coat, I wondered if I would wake my parents up. But they didn't, just like last time, even as the stairs quietly creaked under the weight of my bones.

Hello stars, good evening moon; we meet again.

My white breath danced into the dark yet clear winter sky as I rocked myself slightly on the old swing. But then that white breath shone into bright red, and I looked down just in time to see the bus run by. Even as the light disappeared and all that was left was dark road, I didn't take my eyes off that spot. Not until it came back an hour or so later. That was when my legs raised my body up into the air.

'To Spenser please.'

The old bus driver eyed me suspiciously as I asked for my way to the closest street in town, but he accepted the coins that I had stashed in my pocket nonetheless.

It wasn't such a long ride into town, especially since the driver didn't need to stop once for any passengers. I was the only one. But what did a sixteen-year-old boy like me want in the city at two o'clock in the morning? He didn't ask, and I was grateful for that.

The silence that the city gave at night couldn't have been more calming. The glowing lights that sucked up all the stars were friendly and warm and wrapped you with its artificial hands. But that was nice. The sound of cars driving by was also nice, so dry and unfriendly, which I liked from them.

You would think that the city at midnight would be dangerous, but I just didn't care. I mean, I went to school everyday, so how bad could the city be? No. I just took a small stroll around town, soaking in the night and its unnatural mixture of darkness and blinding lights.

When I got back on the bus an hour later or so, the old bus driver looked at me still with his suspicious eyes, but still said nothing. That guy never slept, I swear. He must have been a vampire or something.

With three hours or so to go until I had to get out of bed for another day of school, I was able to drown myself to a deep sleep to let my body rest. Maybe I should ask my parents for sleeping pills, I thought. I would tell them that the stress of studying was getting to me.

But still, occasionally, I began to slip out of bed at midnight and go to the city to fill the emptiness inside me with the warmness of artificial light.

.

One conversation in the cafeteria is shared with everyone. It was almost as if one conversation was a show for everyone else who was chewing on their food, looking for the opportunity to comment on something. But I hardly paid attention to anyone's chattering. My ears only chose to pick up what was mildly interesting.

'So, have you found a job yet Kenny?' Token asked to the boy on his angle. My ears picked his question up with mild interest.

'Dude, I've been here for what, a month now? I would be dead if I didn't have a job!'

'Well dude, you don't seem to be doing much around the day. Do you like, work on the weekends or something?'

I understood where Token was going at. Kenny was usually hanging around after school, either hanging around with friends or doing some "social smoking", just general being in "the hood". I didn't know when he had the time to work, so I continued to listen to their conversation.

'Yeah, I work on Sundays,' Kenny answered, 'but I also work three school days too.'

'What do you do?' Craig asked, not even looking up from his food to show interest.

'Not telling.' Kenny winked, making Craig flip the bird, but saying nothing in response. But I wasn't happy with that answer.

'What's your job Kenny?' My question shot Kenny's eyes widely in my direction. It wasn't often that I talked to him, so my voice worked on him like some kind of zap.

'Err…' he began, scratching his head, 'I do some midnight delivery around the city.'

'Oh,' losing interest again, I looked back down at my food. My stomach curled as I looked at my half-eaten lunch; all the vegetables gone, all the carbohydrates left. I couldn't eat anymore. I didn't have any energy inside me, but I didn't want to do anything that required the energy that I consumed. I scraped my food off onto some football player's plate, and by the way he didn't say anything, I guess he was happy for it. And I was grateful that he didn't care. But an annoying pair of icy-blue eyes followed my actions, as if asking me worryingly if that was all that I was going to eat.

I wished that he would just fuck off.

.

Watching Stan and Wendy made me miserable. Don't get me wrong, they were both wonderful people that matched perfectly with each other—or maybe that was the problem. Either way, I hope you can understand. Maybe it's something all couples do, but Wendy had this sense of showing off their relationship with every chance possible, and it's not in that, rubbing her polished fingernails all over his torso and kissing him intently every five seconds, no. It was worse. It was what she said, the voice she used and how she would move that practically sprayed this scent in the air that read "True love; here and now". It was as if they were a couple married for years and lust was one of the last things on their mind because they were so emotionally in love with each other.

Anyway, now almost half of my Mondays had turned into that: miserable. It had turned my own happy alone time with Stan that recharged my misery of the day, into being forced to watch Wendy and Stan set up their own lovey-dovey kingdom only across the table from me.

'I still can't believe you did that!' Wendy's high-pitched voice dragged me out of my imaginary world where the couple didn't exist, back into reality.

I was only half awake, but my mouth moved automatically in its polite nature, 'can't believe he did what?'

The chocolate brown eyes moved from Stan to me; her mouth in a tight frown but her eyes sparkling in amusement.

'Stan bit me the other night!' she scoffed, trying to put disgust into her voice, but clearly had the trouble doing so. But I didn't see the big deal of it, so my eyes were still glazed over with disinterest.

'I didn't bite that hard!' Stan protested, sending me an anxious glance.

'Oh yeah?' Wendy blushed with a smirk on her lips. 'Then why is it that I still have your bite mark on my boob?'

Oh Hell fucking God. I seriously, did not need to hear that.

'Dude! Not in front of Kyle!' Stan's blush brightened out as he stood up and defended my "innocence". I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on the table, desperate to not be a part of this.

'And I already said that I was sorry. I was drunk!'

'Oh?' Wendy bat her long black lashes in mocking sorrow. 'Are you saying that you don't love me enough to bite me when you're sober?'

'What? Oh no, of course not-'

God, please anything. I didn't even know what I wanted from the high power now. Maybe I wanted the power to turn invisible. Or was it the power to melt into the chair I was sitting on? The power to evaporate into thin air?

Or maybe I just wanted the enough will power to stand up and leave.

.

'Here again, I see.'

The unfamiliar voice lifted my head and I met suspicious eyes framed with deep wrinkles etched into skin. It was the first time he actually talked to me, but it was obvious that he didn't do it to start a nice conversation. The urge to make a smartass comment wormed inside me, but instead I dropped my coins into the machine and went to my usual seat at the back. But even from there, the old driver's voice was as clear as if I was standing right next to him.

'You should be careful going to the city in the middle of the night, kid. It's dangerous out there.'

Although he hid it under his sceptical tone and harsh voice, I could tell that there was a general worry that he hid in his words. That realisation only created irritation inside me.

'Everywhere's dangerous—'

The driver obviously didn't catch what I mumbled, but I wasn't kind enough to repeat it for the old man. Instead, I stared out the dirty window, watching the lights outside shoot into horizontal lines. The only movement that I showed was blinking, too tired to move anything else. Yet I wasn't tired enough to sleep instead of taking a midnight stroll in the city. Strange, that.

When I got off the bus, the city instantly welcomed me into its peaceful parade of lights and quiet murmurs. At least it was happy to see me, I thought, without knowing its deep and dark motives. The city was like the ocean, so quiet and calming as I let my body float with the movement of the waves and my mind sink deep into the depth of the dark water.

The cold, yet soft breeze of the city floated through me, seeping through my clothes and brushing against the skin of my stomach, making me cringe slightly as the coldness prickled the pains on my torso.

And then suddenly, Wendy's voice echoed inside my head.

'I still can't believe you did that!'

I could, because someone was doing it to me almost everyday. The bite marks along my torso were created with such ease, such casual movements that I almost felt as if it were something normal. But apparently it wasn't.

Yeah. Come to think of it, just because I was getting used to it, didn't mean that it was becoming a normal thing. It meant that it was just becoming a casual thing. Maybe it meant that I was going insane.

'Are you saying that you don't love me enough to bite me when you're sober?'

Those words shot a metal rod right through my body that froze me in that stance in shock. Slowly, as I sank Wendy's words into my brain, my legs began to work faster, even without an aim. They flung forward and backward aggressively as if kicking the ground with all its force was its only purpose in life.

Wendy's words were completely and utterly, disgustingly wrong. Digging teeth into one's flesh wasn't a passionate action. It was just an action. And surely as fuck did it NOT need love, or did it need any other sort of emotion except for the desire to hurt someone else.

The rage that swarmed in my head overtook every inch of my body and worked as a driving force to push me through the cold air of the midnight city. Words, words, words—like a cluster of bees they dominated my mind, and the sudden urge to cry burned my face—

Suddenly, my eyes blinked wide open, and I gasped back to reality. For the whole time I was drowning in my own, aimless, hopeless thoughts, my legs had been doing their job automatically, carrying my body through each corner of the city. And so now, where the fuck was I?

The street my legs had dragged me into was dark, with all the cafes and restaurants closed with only the lights of the business buildings in the distance leaking through the small gaps of the street. I wasn't scared of the dark, but the sudden dark alleyway made me feel insecure. My heart subtly pounded in my chest as I swiftly made my way through the isolated street.

My heart finally lifted when the light of the street ahead was only a dozen meters or so away, but when I entered that bright, hope-filled street, I found out that the light was only from a dying streetlamp flickering around the corner. This street was even worse, if you could even call it a street and not an alley. The borders of the street were made up with tall brick walls, that alone, enough to give the wide street an eerie feel. Not a figure was in sight, and not a voice could be heard; only my heavy breathing and echoing footsteps bouncing off the bricks entered my ears. With every step, my heart began to pound faster and faster, until the brick walls came to an end, and I was released into a real street with real lights that let me take a breath of relief.

There was still no one to be found, thankfully, but the cold air around me was now carrying the laughter and chattering of drunken men. I dragged my eyes up to see the light shining out from a bar in the distance. A second ago I was fearful of the deep sense of isolation in that alleyway, but now something sank in my stomach as the strong vibe of human assembly filled the calming city air.

And my heart began to pound again as I walked straight on the pavement that led closer to the bar. I didn't know what I was so nervous about, it was only a bar, and would only take me a couple of seconds to walk past it. But still I couldn't help the tension in my body as I walked past the chattering and laughing, and that is when the door of the bar flung open to let a couple of drunks tumble out of the shop with bottles in their hands.

'Hey! Watch it kid!' One yelled with a red face, eyes glazed over and unfocused, clearly, utterly, completely, pissed out of his mind. He needed the other drunk to lend him a shoulder to actually stay up.

'I'm sorry-' I muttered a half-hearted apology and turned to move away, that is, until I heard his long, angry groan.

'Ah! Look! I fuckin' spilt the beer all over my fuckin' shirt! This is all your fault you fuckin' brat!' He spread his wet shirt out as if to show me, and at that point I was beginning to notice my breath becoming heavier with nervousness.

'Dude, that sucks!' The other guy laughed through his drunken nose as he observed the wet shirt, and then his unfocused eyes swam towards me. 'Kid, that was his favourite shirt! You should pay him for the cleaner's bill or somethin'.'

The other pair of the more angry eyes flew up at that suggestion, and I accidently met his eyes. I saw them turn from anger into melting delight.

'Actually, you're pretty cute.' My stomach shrivelled up with his words. The other guy simply cracked up at that statement, but there was no amusement inside me as I watched the victim lean up from his friend to inch closer to me. 'I know a better way for you to pay me back…'

My feet didn't think twice to kick the ground and run. My desperate action apparently pulled the laughter fuse in the two as I heard them burst out cackling behind me. But soon that laughter stopped, and I began to hear their footsteps kick the ground after me instead.

Fuck! Only a second ago those two were tumbling over their own drunken feet! How could they possibly be running so fast? And fuck— why were they running after me like this? Why was this happening to me?

As I pumped my thin legs desperately inside my baggy pants, I caught a glimpse of a familiar orange truck parked on the road in the corner of my eye. But I didn't take much notice of it as I simply ran for my life, that was, until I almost choked on the collar of my own shirt when they finally reached me and yanked me from behind.

'Fucking drunkard son of a bitch! Let go of me!'

They were still laughing as I thrashed through the air desperately in aim to get away. But their drunken grip wouldn't let me go. Instead I was hurled around, forced to look at the burning eyes of that intoxicated asshole. The sight instantly froze my body.

'Oh, come on pretty boy! You just ruined an expensive brand t-shirt, make up for it will ya!'

I couldn't help it.

'More like a third class brand t-shirt,' I spat bitterly. His amused eyes instantly fell into thin slits, along with his smile that turned into a fierce scowl. Why couldn't I just shut my defiant mouth for one second? The fingers digging into my collar tightened its grip in pure anger as his other hand curled up and rose to aim for my cheek, causing my heart to pound aggressively inside my frozen body. But the expected fist never collided into my face, for a loud, clear voice caught it in mid-shoot.

'Hey! Hey you! What the fuck are you doing!'

My pounding heart instantly stopped at the familiar voice.

—No… It couldn't be…

But checking the face of the owner of that voice was my last priority. I took that chance the drunkard got distracted to twist myself free and run in the opposite direction, away from the voice of my saviour. But as I turned, I saw a glimpse of orange and blond hair behind the two drunks. And after that, my driving force turned from running away from danger, to running away from being seen by my saviour.

The voice called out to me, but that didn't stop me. My legs pumped like no other. Who would have ever thought that being seen by your classmate in the middle of the night would be worse than getting caught by two perverted drunks? No one. But then again, I was a little out of my mind. My priorities were fucked up.

I didn't stop until I reached the bus stop, and my luck suddenly showed itself when I found the bus just arriving to fetch me. The bus driver's usual tinge of suspicion turned into surprise for a moment as I tumbled into the bus like I'd just been running away from giant guinea pigs.

My head in knots, the world changing around me too quickly for my mind to keep up with, I threw the coins into the machine without a single word and made my way to the far back of the bus, away from the only person in the bus as far as possible.

As the bus turned through its usual mountain roads, making me rock slightly from the waves of the road, my mind was filled with unnecessary anxiety.

Was that blond who saved me really who I thought he was? Or maybe he was just some random blond teenager that I've never met and probably never will again in my life? But then the glimpse of that small orange truck parked in the road flashed in my memory, and there was no way for me to deny.

All I could do now, if he ever mentioned what happed that night in the city, was to act dumb, or to act as if he were dumb, in which case it wouldn't be acting.

But still that blond was in my mind for the rest of the midnight journey, and for the rest of the night until the morning sun shone in my eyes to announce the beginning of another miserable day.

Another miserable day at school, with the extra spice of annoying bickering.

A flash of bright blond hair came my way; I took a secret glance from the corner of my eye. It took him longer than I thought— long enough to think that he wouldn't come at all. But there he was, with a small frown that wondered whether he should act casual, or whether to act confronting towards me.

He chose to take the casual act, his signature grin slowly spreading across his face.

'Hey,' he said, placing a hand on my table and leaning his body weight into it like he couldn't care less.

'…Hi,' I answered reluctantly. There was a book in my hands- Carl Rogers I think. I kept my eyes glued to the pages but none of his words were being reflected in my head, even before Kenny came towards me. His humanistic belief that all people were inherently good was a little too much for me- especially after reading Freud. I mean, harmony with your inner self? How could a human being do such a thing?

For a few seconds Kenny didn't say anything. He just kept leaning against my table, glancing around the room as if he had just come to me for the company of a friend. But I knew better. I was only waiting for one thing, one question. And it did finally come. He slid it out of his mouth without the smoothness he was intending to put in.

'Hey, Kyle?'

'Mm-hmm?'

'Did you go to the city last night?'

'No.'

The weight leaning into the arm that was sinking into my table tensed, and I felt his round eyes look down at me at my answer. What was he expecting? To me to say 'Yeah, I was in the city last night at three AM. Oh yeah, and thanks for saving me from getting raped by the way'? No way, dude.

'Are you sure?' He asked, still with disbelief.

'Dude, I would know if I was in the city last night, and I wasn't. And if I was, I probably wouldn't be here because my mom would have killed me!'

I looked up at him, looking into his eyes as he pursed his lips into one straight line— pathetic.

'Dude, I swear I saw you—'

'Look,' I growled, eyes glaring now, 'I didn't go to the fucking city last night okay? For the last fucking time now. Fuck. Off.'

A tinge of piercing ice glinted in his eyes, narrowing his eyes into a cold glare.

'Fine! I was just asking a fucking question, you cocksucking fuckhole.'

The weight from his arm that was leaning into my table instantly lifted, and he stomped off, huffing angrily into the air.

But as if I cared.

Cocksucking fuckhole. That is what he called me that day. Kenny McCormick was always the one you could count on for swear words and insults. When he said that to me then, I couldn't have cared less, in fact, I think I even scoffed at his words before returning to Carl Rogers.

But if he had said that to me only a couple of weeks later, I think the words may have had electrified my body and made my senses go numb. They would have shocked me painfully, although I wouldn't have shown a speck of it. Although I thought that I was feeling so much pain that I was going numb, maybe I was unconsciously turning into a rotten peach. Small words that touched me a little could have easily bruised me— if they were the right words.

Insults mean nothing usually, because they are usually stupid metaphors that are meant to be like nothing in their literal sense. Just because someone called you a bitch didn't make you a female dog. Being called a dickhead didn't mean that you were a penile head. Just because someone called you a cocksucking fuckhole didn't mean that you were a person who sucked cock and a hole for people to put their dick in.

But those words— if Kenny had called me that a couple of weeks later, no one could have known how literal they would have been.

.

The forth floor bathroom was definitely the coldest place in the school, even more than outside where the snow fell endlessly and the wind blew like it was running for its life. Who ever said that heat rises? The white tiles on the wall, the white tiles on the ground— they were all frozen like they were made of ice, and the small smoked-glass window was all frosted over. It either made every single subtle sound you make echo around mercilessly, mocking your self-consciousness, or sucked up your scream deep into its coldness so that it wouldn't escape. The breath that you released into the small, lonely room was so white, you would think it was smoke that would lead you into another universe.

That one small white room was my least favourite place in the whole world.

But almost as much as I hated it, there was someone who loved it. And he was standing right beside me.

'So, how's life?'

The school was as quiet as ever, every pupil in class with a zipped mouth (at least I would have been) and listening to the teacher. The sound of the running water dribbling over my hands was not enough to distract me from Eric's voice.

'Don't you have your own business to attend to?'

I nodded my head towards the urinal with uninterested eyes.

'I thought you came here for that too. Washing your hands before and after…'

'I don't need to anymore.'

And I didn't. I asked the teacher to excuse me for a second to go to the bathroom, and fucking Eric said so kindly that he would accompany me. I was not intending to come to this bathroom. It was Eric that dragged me in. And who possibly could have relieved themselves under such nervousness? By the smell of the place I guess no one could. The bathroom didn't even smell like one. The place smelt like nothing, unless coldness had a smell. If it did, that is what it would have smelt like.

My eyes were still glued to the running water as Eric asked the next question.

'Kenny's fitted in well hasn't he?'

That one name made my eyebrow twitch, but I tried to hide it.

'I guess.'

I screwed the tap shut of its freezing water with numb hands. My heart was beginning to thud nervously and I was desperate to leave, although the only thing I showed was cold disinterest in Eric's existence beside me. I couldn't fight him off with my twig-like legs and arms. The only thing I could do to show disobedience was through emotionless eyes and voice.

'Well if you don't need to pee, we should go back to class.' I flicked the droplets off my numb fingers, staring into Eric's eyes, watching him, my heart racing, as he began to smile.

'Not so fast Kahl.'

The sound of my heart echoed in my ear one last time, before coldness swept over my body with despair.

'What do you want?'

To beat me? To eat me? What was it this time?

But as he slowly took something out from his pocket, my eyes glazed over with hopelessness shot wide open in horror.

The glint of a small pocketknife shone mercilessly at me in Eric's hands. The clean, sharp surface of the knife reflected the white tiles that surrounded us, and it smiled at me, smiled down on its prey.

Oh God, I thought with panic exploding in my head, my lungs, my veins and my heart. Eric Cartman had finally lost it. He was going to fucking kill me. He was going to dye the white tiles around us red with my blood that he will draw with that knife—

The small knife glittered playfully as Eric flicked his wrist, cutting my thoughts out for a second as I raised my eyes blank from panic, from the knife, to Eric's eyes. That is when the panicking burn inside me instantly froze to a hopeless cold, and I was looking at him as he drew out soft orders from his mouth.

'On your knees, Kyle. And open your mouth.'

I hated that one room on the forth floor; I cursed it and loathed it with every inch of my empty body more than anything.

…No— the one thing that I hated more than the room was the person who led me to it.

And as I looked into his smoky orbs with an excruciating heat burning my own glaring eyes I wondered.

I wondered if he felt the same way about me.

A.N- Thank you for reading/reviewing! Love!