Alexander
Well, Mrs. Adams was going to kill me. I had found a pretty reflective picture frame on the wall as I was running, looked in it, and saw that large, dark bruises were already forming on my face. It would be a miracle if I could come up with an excuse that Mrs. Adams actually believed.
I sighed. I figured I might as well go to the bathroom and try to clean myself up before I left. The school was thankfully empty by now, so I didn't have to deal with people staring at me or asking questions.
However, I was apparently completely wrong. When I went into the bathroom, I seemed to startle the boy in there. Thomas Jefferson was standing at the sink and jumped five feet into the air when I walked in next to him.
"Hey, Thomas," I said.
"H-Hello, Alexander," Thomas quietly responded. "What are you still doing here?"
"Well, my...my foster mom is running late, which is fine, but I also had to deal with Laurens, which is probably obvious." When I looked in the mirror, I saw that I was right. The bruises were bright, now, and I sighed at the sight of them. Apparently, I had a small cut on my eyebrow, as well.
"Oh...oh, my God. Are-Are you okay? I mean, no, you aren't. Duh. You're hurt. Do you want help? I could...I could..." Thomas started to sift through his bag as I stared at him, confused. Eventually, he pulled out a small box. First aid.
"Oh, uh, you don't need to help. I'll be fine."
Thomas froze, looking disappointed. "Oh." He began to put his box away. "O-Okay..." The disappointment on his face had leaked into his voice. I felt bad, for some reason.
"Wait, I...I guess..." I mentally sighed. "If you think it'll help me somehow, then...go ahead."
"R-Really?"
"I...yeah."
"Okay." Thomas placed the first aid box on the sink and opened it. He took out a cloth and ran it under the sink water. Before I was prepared, Thomas reached out his hand to touch the cloth to the cut above my eye. I flinched and jumped back. Thomas flinched, as well, holding his arms to his chest. "Sorry, sorry. I...here, you can do it." Thomas held the cloth out to me.
I looked at Thomas. He had a certain...panic in his eyes. It looked so familiar to me.
"No, it's okay," I assured Thomas. "I was just...caught off guard, is all. You can go ahead. I'm sure you'll be better at it, anyway." Thomas looked at me as if he had never heard something like that before. He shyly nodded and moved closer again.
I closed my eyes as Thomas pressed the wet cloth against my face. He was very gentle about it, which was...nice. He slowly patted the bruises on my face with the wet cloth, and I just...let him. I hadn't let anyone take care of me in so long...
When Thomas moved the cloth down to my cheeks, I opened my eyes a little. Thomas seemed to have gotten closer to me; I supposed it was because he needed to bend down a bit to meet my height. He didn't seem to notice that I was looking at him. His eyes were slightly glazed over, his lips parted.
That at was the moment I realized that Thomas looked cute. Kind of. Hmm.
"Why are you still here?" I asked Thomas, startling him. His eyes focused on me again.
"My mom was held up at work and my dad...he is, too." A deep frown covered Thomas' face. I didn't question him.
"You don't drive?" Thomas shook his head.
"No. My anxiety is too bad for that. I...I'm scared of it..." Thomas shyly bit his lip, turning away to put the cloth back in his box. He took out a small bottle of ointment and a cotton ball. He put some of the ointment on the cotton and pressed it against the cut on my head. "I, uh, I hope that helps."
"Yeah. Thank you." Thomas began to pack up just as I heard my phone ring in my bag. I hurried to take it out and answer it. "Hey, Mrs. Adams."
"Hi, Alex," my caretaker greeted cheerfully. "I'm outside, now, if you're ready to go."
"Okay. I'll be out in a minute." I was about to head out, but my eyes caught on Thomas. He was biting the inside of his cheek like he was nervous. Before my call with Mrs. Adams could end, I asked, "Hey, uh...can we give my, um, my friend a ride home?" I watched Thomas' head turn to face me quickly, shock filling his eyes.
"Oh, of course," Mrs. Adams said. "I'd be happy to."
"Okay. Thanks, Mrs. Adams. I'll see you out there." I hung up and looked at Thomas. "Come on. I'm giving you a ride."
I had barely finished speaking when Thomas began saying, "Oh, no, you-you don't have to. Really. I can just...I can wait for my mom."
"Do you know when she'll get here?"
"Well...no. But-"
"Then, come on. It's fine. Mrs. Adams doesn't mind."
"I-I..." Thomas' eyes darted around, before his shoulders dropped in defeat. "Okay..." Thomas followed me out of the school, his body tense and his head hanging. When we got to the car, I opened the back door for Thomas, then I slid into the seat next to him. I supposed I could have sat in the front like I usually do, but I didn't.
"Hello," Mrs. Adams smiled at me and Thomas.
"H-Hello," Thomas whispered, his voice barely heard.
"This is Thomas," I said, knowing that Thomas most likely didn't want to talk.
"Nice to meet you, Thomas," Mrs. Adams said. Thomas just shyly nodded in response. "Where do you live, Thomas?" Thomas quietly rattled off his address, and Mrs. Adams began to drive.
The ride to Thomas' house was pretty quiet, but not too awkward. I noticed that the houses seemed to get bigger as we got closer to our destination. We eventually stopped at a large, red brick house.
"This is it," Thomas faintly said. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Of course, Thomas," Mrs. Adams said. "Have a nice day." Thomas nodded and got out of the car. He waved a bit at me, then hurried into his house. Once he was inside, Mrs. Adams pulled out of the driveway and started to drive to her house. We were silent for no more than a minute. "So...you two are friends, then?"
"I...I guess. We don't really talk thatmuch. I sit next to him at lunch."
"Uh-huh..." Mrs. Adams sounded too suspicious for me to not ask about what she was entailing.
"What?"
"What?"
"Why did you sound so suspicious?"
"Oh, nothing. He seems nice, is all."
"He...he is."
"You like him?" Mrs. Adams blatantly asked me. I jolted.
"What?" The reason this was so surprising was that I had never told Mrs. Adams-or anyone, for that matter-that I was Bi. I usually didn't expect the people I stayed with to be okay with it. "I don't-no, I don't."
"Mhm. Okay."
"Where did this even come from?"
"You just seemed to be acting really nice to him."
"I can just be nice to people. Wouldn't you want me to do that, considering I'm generally rude to everyone all the time?"
"You aren't that bad, Alexander."
"Pretty sure you're just saying that." Mrs. Adams shook her head.
"You're a good kid, Alex. It's just that you've dealt with bad people in your life, so you've built up an intolerance." I crossed my arms.
"Sure. Yeah, I guess."
"Things will turn out well, Alex. I swear. I mean, hey, you've already made a friend. That's great."
"I...yeah...but I don't like him like that." Mrs. Adams smirked at me through the rear view mirror. I pretended I wasn't blushing.