It was exactly three weeks later when Roger went back to school. He looked horrible: His eye was rebruised and blacker than before, he had a cut on his lower lip, and he looked as if he hadn't slept in days. As he walked through the hall, many people pointed, and Mandy and Margaret started whispering to each other. He glared at them before throwing his bag in his locker and slamming it shut.
"Roger? It is Roger, right?" a soft, gentle voice said. It was April.
"Uhh...yeah...yes...and you're...April, right?" Roger stuttered, becoming strangely nervous when he looked into her eyes.
"Yeah. A-are you okay? I haven't seen you in ages. Did you get mugged again?" she asked, a look of genuine concern on her face.
"Ye-I mean no...I mean...I can't really talk about it now. I've gotta get out of here. I can't stay. I'm sorry. I really am." Roger's gaze lingered on her for a brief moment, before he turned to walk down the crowded hall.
"Wait!" Roger was startled to hear April's voice calling after him. "Let me come. You can tell me what happened." Her voice shook slightly as she spoke, as if she wasn't accustomed to making such requests.
Roger stared, his mouth open slightly. "O-okay then, if you want to..." Awkwardly, he reached for her arm. He nearly pulled back again as they touched, but the reassuring look on her face stopped him. She's so genuine, so thoughtful, he thought as he started leading her to the door, slowly at first, but gaining speed quickly.
As they turned the outside corner, April started laughing, and Roger couldn't help but smile. "Come on, we'll take a walk and I'll tell you what happened," he said, not realizing that their hands were still entwined.
They wandered down the nearly empty city streets together. "To tell you the truth, I...I was never mugged," Roger admitted, his eyes glancing down so as not to have to meet hers. He didn't see the worried look on her face as he continued. "I have problems, at home, with my father..." trailing off, he stared at his feet as he spoke. "I got mad, and started skipping school. He just found out two days ago, and...yeah," he gestured to his beat up face. April stopped walking, and he stepped backwards to face her. "What?" he said. He started to lean backwards as her hand rose to his face, but its soft touch on his cheek stopped him.
"God, Roger, I'm so sorry," April said. Her fingers traveled over his bruised eye, moved down his face and over the cut on his lip. Roger breathed deeply, at first trying not to shudder or pull away, but then stood still as her hand slid down his face. Reaching up hesitantly, he grasped it in his own.
"It's okay. I mean, it's not, but there's nothing I can do about it, y'know?" He tried to act as if it wasn't a big deal, but the hurt in his eyes showed it differently. "I should bring you back to school. I don't want to get you in trouble for what I'm doing, okay?" There was a long, awkward silence. He didn't really want her to go back, and somehow he thought April could tell. "Listen, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to get rid of you or anything, I just-"
"It's not that, really. I...I don't want to see you get hurt anymore. It's just not right. And...I want to be here for you. For you to trust me. If you ever need someone to turn to." It was April's turn to look away.
Roger sighed. "You know, you're the first person I've ever told about..." He trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. "I wouldn't have told you if I didn't feel like I could trust you. And honestly, I actually feel a little better now that I've told someone." He smiled weakly, and she did the same, nodding sympathetically.
"Do you still think I should go?" April murmured quietly, slipping her hand out of his and staring down at it. There was no response, and she began to turn around.
"No," Roger said after a moment. April spun back to face him again. "I don't. I mean, you can if you want to, but I'd like to talk to you some more." He added the last bit hurriedly, not wanting to seem like he was coming on to her in any way.
A small smile grew across her face. "Okay," she said. "I...I'd like that."
The two of them walked, mostly silent, for a long time. It was around 2:40 when Roger spoke up. "You should go back now," he said, though he didn't want her to leave. "School should be over soon, and I don't want you to get caught skipping. I have a long walk home anyway."
"Yeah," she said, nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow, then? Will you be there?"
"Probably. I don't think I can afford to not be there." Their eyes met, and he was certain she knew exactly what he meant. "See you tomorrow," he said as she turned to go. He watched her as she walked, not wanting to go himself until she was out of sight. Her silky black hair swished against her back as she walked, and Roger couldn't help but think of how beautiful she was. But she's so sweet, too, he thought and smiled.
Roger went home happy for the first time he could remember. Shutting himself in his room, he picked up his guitar for the first time in months and began tuning it. He slowly plucked out a song. The name escaped him, some kind of a waltz or something. He only remembered it from his mother playing it often before she left three years earlier. He had always liked the way the bittersweet melody sounded, because no matter how horrible things were, it seemed to be comforting...almost like April, he thought, and smiled.