Just outside her window there was a tree gripping its radiant red leaves. With a breeze, leaves from the other five trees in the yard were falling, cascading down in rivulets in small lazy tornados. The yellows and oranges settling on the dewy ground. Carl was raking.
She stared, transfixed. The scene lolling her into a purgatory mental state, hearing and unhearing the hustle and bustle of the classroom. The red leaves stayed put.
Thump, she jerked.
Tucker had dropped his books on the desk.
"Jeez."
"Hey Sam," Tucker smirked, sitting down and looking around, "I see Danny's not here yet."
Mr. Lancer was up at the front of the classroom shuffling around a few papers, glancing at the clock behind him occasionally. Letting out a small breath and leaning her face on her fist, she looked at Tucker. "Nope."
"What is that, the third time this week?" he said, taking out his cell phone, scrolling through a few notifications.
"I don't know maybe."
Tucker stopped, and turned to her, frowning. "And you don't have anything to say about that?"
"What's there to say."
He stopped, blinks once, then twice at her, one mouth drop away from gapping. He considered the visible bags under her eyes.
"Yeah ok," turning his attention back to his phone. "I'm glad honestly. Relieved even. It's certainly something we don't need to talk about every day."
"I don't talk it about every single day."
"Hah!"
Three girls sitting in front of them turned to glare at him. Sam included.
She turned to stare resolutely forward.
Tucker sighed then lowered his voice, "look, all I'm saying is that too much worrying is not healthy."
"Too much worry?" she said, mimicking his tone and turning to face him again with a steel gaze, "Tucker, he's dead."
"Yes, I know. It's not like you haven't said that to me at least 50 times with in the last two weeks."
"It's not funny."
Tucker gently placed his phone on the desk, face down and folded his arms across his chest. "No, it's not," he said, tone smooth and even, face stoic. For once Sam didn't feel a desire to question his act, "this entire situation is multiple levels of fucked, and I know that you know that I know that. I'm just sick of it being the only thing we talk about. Right now, in this very moment, we have the same exact amount of information as we did yesterday. And unless someone actually starts to open up to us about what's really going on with him then there isn't much I can do. There isn't much I could do even if he did open up to us. And you know what that's his prerogative. Until then can't we just talk about video games and movies? Like normal teenagers."
Tension dripped out of her face. For the first time she thought he might be more tired than her. Sam smirked, "you're the one who brought this up."
"Shut up. You download the new Doom dlc yet?"
"I did actually-"
Lancer cleared his throat. Glaring at the students, the chatter dying down to a murmur. He straightens and pointed to the whiteboard, "alright class-"
The door slammed open.
Heads turned the eyes of the class locked on him. Danny stood there in the doorway, paused, hand still splayed over the wooden door.
He was staring at her. That fact Sam was certain.
Her brain barely processing.
He looked away and shuffled into the classroom, "sorry I'm late." He mumbled.
"Actually, Fenton, you made it just in time for once." Lancer said, only slightly disapproving.
The students resumed their chatter.
Hanging his head, he trudged to the back of the class, narrowly avoiding an outstretched leg.
"All right everyone, settle down." Lancer turned and began scratching on the whiteboard. Mon: 1-26, Wed: 27-52… "Now I expect you to write a paragraph reflection for each assigned reading..." The class collectively groaned.
Danny sat down grunting a 'good morning.' He plopped his head on the desk with a thunk, brought up his arms, cradling and hiding his face. Not a single book or any school items to help him with the pretext of paying attention.
Sam leaned over, craning her head as far over as possible, invading Tuckers space. "Danny are you ok?" she said, half whispering. The lights flickered. Lancer droned on.
They waited a moment, staring at the mop of messy hair.
He shifted a little, head still nested in his arms he gave a thumbs up.
Sam huffed. She looked to Tucker who just shrugged.
Sitting back in her seat she picked up her book and started following along. Lancer's reading voice was surprisingly soothing and she soon found herself lost in the story and writing.
Her eyes became heavy and sagging. She mind was swaying, drifting further and further into the unreal until she became lost.
.
...
.
But all around the air became stifling.
.
...
.
A soft breeze nuzzled and nipped at her cheek. A shiver ran up her spine pinning itself on the inside. She opened her eyes, blinking away the crust. Peeling her face off the crisp pages, she peered across the classroom. The lights dimmed and flickering. Sleeping bodies slumped over each desk.
Why am I crying.
She was not crying.
From each window the rising sun spilled into the room lazily cutting through the drab haze. It reminded her of church.
Sam rose, chair scraping against the floor echoing and cutting through the silence. Rubbing her upper arms trying to suppress a shiver, again.
She maneuvered over to Danny's desk crouching in front of it.
It was difficult. The air here she felt compressing her chest. Her throat constricted slightly. Around him the atmosphere waved and wiggled making the poster behind him distorted.
She was shaking now.
"Danny" she said, teeth chattering.
She was so cold.
He said nothing.
And time flowed like a dream.
"Danny, you're doing it again."
His hair, rustling around in the moving air, sparked. Green electricity. It was mesmerizing. She almost missed his soft voice.
"So."
It was supposed to be a question yet the spoken word lacked any intonation. Sam's brow furrowed. She felt her familiar anger raise within her, "What do you mean 'so'?" she let out a shaky breath, "You need to stop now."
He was staring into her now, unmoving. The gold rays pouring through the window in slow motion, outlining his face in the suns glow. It swirled on his face and stopped. His eyes glowed through the light.
Face twisted into a tight grimace. "I don't want to stop Sam." He said, seething out her name.
She stood to her full height backing away, still shaking. He did not move to keep looking at her.
Her face hardened. "you have to."
She pretended her shivers were just from the cold.
She was mad. She was mad at him for losing control. She was mad at his parents for building that hunk of metal. She was mad at Tucker all the time, for a lot of petty reasons. She was mad at her parents for pretending everything was alright. But most of all she was mad at herself.
The choice came. Squash it down or explode. Neither options were healthy coping mechanisms. But she realized a while ago, she wanted one of them.
Instead, she let it burn him.
Danny flinched, his powerful gaze held for a moment but he shook his head and the cloud of anguish around him dissipated. Sam could now see the bags under his eyes.
He brought his hands to cover his face, "I'm so tired."
She crouched down again and took his hands lightly away from his face. Her own hand turned red and burning from the cold. He stared at they're hands then looked to Sam, eyes drooping.
He sniffled, "I didn't get any sleep last night,"
"I know the feeling." She gave his hand a squeeze. She rubbed his hand, a gentle reminder that he's still capable of feeling.
Tucker stirred beside them, breathing stuttered, gasped and snapped forward.
He quirked an eyebrow looking over at them. Sam pulled her hands back to her sides.
"Dude, again?"
A clouded breath graced his lips he shot him a droopy sad smile.
"Sleepy for real this time, human sleep, got it?" Sam said.
Danny nodded, dropping his head once again
"Good" Sam nodded.
Class resumed.
you ever have to wake up early but you didn't get enough sleep and your so so tired so you have a mental breakdown?
Anyway
I have an idea of where this could go, so for sure one more chapter maybe more. Let me know what you think.