May I bring your attention to the genres? Specifically Hurt/Comfort. Get ready, fanguins.
Don't Give Up On Me
The multiple colored leaves are starting to fall, the gentle wind picking them off from their branches and sending them floating to the ground. It was getting colder as the fall season drew closer to winter, and Rico was glad that Ma had dragged him off to shop for new clothes and for a new hair cut since she 'couldn't see his beautiful eyes anymore'. They went to a thrift shop, and since he was tired of washing and reusing the same clothes he had been wearing since he was here, he didn't complain.
Rico closed his eyes and sighed in contentment before leaning back against the picket fence surrounding the property. An image of Kowalski, wide eyed, soaking wet and hanging from the tree branch, flashed through his mind and made him grin. It wasn't much, since Skipper swore not to hurt him, but it sure brought the entire building into laughter. He did feel a little guilty for sending Kowalski into self-containment. Just a little. After all, it did happen a week ago. Kowalski should be over it, and if he wasn't, he would have to start school all over.
Rico winced at the thought of going through the same classes and teachers again. The first week was complete torture for him, even if they (teachers and students alike) didn't notice him. If someone did or tried to make him talk, Skipper, Manfredi or Johnson would be there to cover him up. He was a little grateful for that since he still didn't feel like talking.
There was also something else that made him feel comfortable with the group, but he couldn't place his finger on it. He was fine with it as long as they didn't rat him out, again, or contacted Mack.
An involuntary shiver ran through him at that, but he shrugged it off and looked away. His eyes caught Layla humming to herself, curled up against a tree reading a book. Now that he thought about it, she never did drop by his room for that pizza lunch she promised. He never bothered to check though and just went about wandering the neighborhood with Skipper. Now he was curious.
As if he had sent her a link, the girl looked around before she saw him. He looked away, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. He didn't move even as something dropped beside him.
"Hey, Rico..." Her soft voice called to him, but he didn't turn his head in case she saw his face. "I'm sorry I didn't come by last time. I was...occupied..." She played with her book for a while and he realized that she was waiting for a reply from him. He licked his lips and nodded slowly, still facing away from him. A sigh and before he knew it, she wrapped her arms around his chest. He stiffened from the contact, but she didn't let go. "Please don't be mad at me. I'm sorry."
What? Wait, no. I'm not mad at you...I just...I don't-
"Rico, I'm sorry. I swear I won't do it again. Cross my heart. Please don't be mad at me." Her voice broke at the last word and his eyes widened when he realized what was going to happen. He hesitated for a bit, but when he heard a sniffle, he hugged her back.
Please don't cry, please don't cry. You didn't do anything. And I really don't want to deal with a crying girl right now...
"You can't be mad at me. You're the only one who understands. I know you do." It was muffled, but he heard it and frowned.
What about Kowalski? Isn't he supposed to be your best friend?
"Hey, Rico! Layla!" Johnson's cheerful voice made him look up as the boy and Manfredi walked up to them. Layla sat back on her heels and rapidly wiped at her eyes before running past them and into the apartment building. "Uh," Johnson scratched his head in confusion as he looked after her, "bye?"
Manfredi rolled his eyes and dropped beside Rico. "She's one weird girl." Johnson slapped his arm as he sat beside him.
"And you're a pig, Manfred, but you don't hear us complaining." Manfredi just rolled his eyes again and turned to Rico.
"What's up with her?"
Probably something to do with Kowalski...Rico shrugged.
Manfredi frowned and looked at Johnson. "Do you know?"
"She's a mystery. I don't do mysteries. Let Skipper handle it. He's like Sherlock Holmes or something."
"Fine with me. Speaking of the guy," Manfredi chuckled as he lightly punched Rico, "did you see what he did to Kowalski earlier on?"
Tell me.
"He made Kowalski do laps again." A smirk came on Rico's face as he imagined Skipper barking at an overly exhausted Kowalski to 'quit slacking off and start running'.
If Kowalski was an assistant to the teachers, specifically Science, Skipper would be in charge of anything physical, aka sports. Currently, he was the captain to the basketball team they had. Basketball had become Kowalski's sport, much to the boy's reluctance and disdain, especially since he hated getting physical and Skipper. But he had no choice, unless he wanted to fail.
"The guy was panting like a dog sprawled on the ground last we saw." Manfredi added with another chuckle. "You should've taken a picture, Johnson."
"Layla wouldn't approve."
"Like she'll find out, man. Come on! Stop chickening out."
"The girl's like a beacon to suspicion and trouble. She even volunteered to file in everyone's records, keep count of the pantry and other jobs like it. There's no way a picture is going to go pass her, especially when she starts on the inventory check for each kid here."
"She's one weird chick. Wonder why Skipper's so hung up on her."
Excuse me? Did I hear that right?
"You know why." Johnson nudged him, glancing at Rico. "Now hush."
Rico frowned at them and Johnson returned it with a half smile while the other boy smirked.
Manfredi leaned forward. "Jealous?" Rico turned to him, narrowing his eyes. "You should be, newbie." Johnson placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back, frowning.
"That's enough." He looked at Rico, who was indifferent. "Ignore him. He's just being a blockhead." The boy resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Not the first time...
"Why don't you tell him?"
"It's not my story to tell, Manfredi."
"Right. Like Skipper trusts this guy enough to tell him that."
Like Skipper trusts this guy enough to tell him that...trusts this guy enough...trusts...TRUST...Rico froze at those words and his eyes practically turned into slits as he glared at the two.
Users. You used me. I never was part of this 'group' in the first place.
"Rico?" Johnson's face turned into a mess of concern and worry. "You alright, bud? Something wrong?"
"That was exhausting." Skipper joined their little circle, oblivious to the tension. "I didn't know Kowalski was so lazy. I actually had to help him across the last few laps." Rico snorted and got to his feet, hurrying to his room. Skipper stared after him in confusion. "What's his problem?"
"I have no idea/Ask blabbermouth over here." They jumped when the door slammed loudly as Skipper frowned at it.
What is wrong with me? I'm not supposed to be like this. Rico looked at himself in the mirror hanging above the table near the coat rack. So what if they don't trust me? I've been fine without anybody else before. It was always me...Just me...nobody else...He sighed.
Mack's voice suddenly filled his ears. Stupid boy...do you think anybody would like you? You're a freak. A monster. Nobody would ever like you, or even think of you as normal, no matter how much you want to. You don't even have anybody! The man's chuckles made him cover his ears, as if trying to block out the sound that was inside. You've only got me, kid. Only me. So listen to me...Rico shook his head and dropped his hands to his sides, glaring at the mirror.
I don't need them. The mirror collided with the floor as he marched to his room. I don't need anybody!
