-- Now I'm thinking I'd better explain Stan's behavior in the last chapter, because it appears I've startled a few people. It's a bit of psychology, on my part. You see, I figured, he's star quarter back, right? Which, obviously, makes him popular… which makes me think he probably gets what he wants a lot, especially from chicks… and, if that's true, it stands to reason that, when he's not getting what he wants, he could use "romantic" gestures to turn that around… doesn't it? I don't know, maybe I'm wrong…--
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He and she; two different people
In two different lives
When you mold the two together you get a
Spectacular surprise 'cause
One can teach the other one
What she doesn't know
While still the other feels a place inside
He never knew had room to grow…
– from Different People by No Doubt
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Thursday – Casey was different. He was shut up inside himself… guilt was numbing at the edges of his conscious mind, a little stab shooting into it every now and then. Bad things were happening… bad things were happening to Sam… bad things just like the bad things he was always put through… bad things like that were happening to Sam… and it was all his fault.
The previous afternoon had been the first time since he'd met her that she'd kept something from him, the first time that she hadn't told him when he'd asked… Was it something really terrible? Was it his fault, too? Why wouldn't she tell him?
Sure, it seemed this had started right after Sam got beat up… but that wasn't it. He'd been fine… well, at first, he was like this… then he was afraid, because her suffering a little piece of his fate lowered her down to his level, even if it was just for a little while, and his level was no place to be… then, it was slightly uplifting. It gave them something to have in common, because (besides that) they were two very different people… and that wasn't bad. It was this new development of secrecy, in whatever form, that disturbed him once again.
His anxiety and guilt was all consuming, and he stayed that way all day… All day he was totally withdrawn, all day he stayed inside himself, barely picking up a word from any of his classes… and Sam… Sam in almost every period the same as him…
He remembered Sam, in fifth period, Biology with Mr. Furlong, the only period where they absolutely had to interact because they were lab partners, had pulled him from his thoughts several times so that they could finish the assignment… and in all the other periods of the day, except seventh where they were apart, bringing him from his thoughts to ask him if he was okay at least a dozen times over the course of the day, once or twice teasing him; playing on his paranoia to never fail a test, and at lunch he'd told her he was going for a walk as soon as they'd stepped out the doors and was on his way before she could even say "bye"… and the teachers, themselves, had more then once stopped to remind him to pay attention… and, even, his fourth period teacher had stopped him from leaving and asked if he was alright.
He lied to them both and told them he was, told them he was just tired; he hadn't slept well the night before… well, at least that wasn't entirely false…
He was slipping, farther and farther away from her, worried that they'd break her, worried that she was already broken; worried that she would hate him and he'd be left alone again… he didn't want that… if he were to be honest with himself; he'd know that he was actually terrified of it.
So this was the way… Consciously or unconsciously, he really didn't know, but his mind came up with this as a solution: push her away until she's gone, that way she can't do it to him. It was perfectly simple, perfectly clean, and the long wait before she'd give up and leave would bring the pain in small doses, minimize it over time so that it was easier to take.
Of course, somewhere, deep inside his heart, he also knew that if he did this, and he pushed her far enough away from him, he would loose her and never be able to find her again… he would loose her forever…
*~*
Meanwhile, things weren't so great for Sam, either.
"You okay?" Sam whispered, after nudging Casey's arm, sometime in fourth period. He shook his head and stuttered out some answer that he was fine, before looking back up at the teacher… and then his eyes slowly drifted down again.
Sam frowned and looked back again, pretending to pay attention when, really, she was finding it almost as hard as her friend was to do so… not with all the little things buzzing around her head like flies around food on a picnic table in midsummer.
Of course, Casey's behavior bothered her. It worried her sick. Naturally, it had to be her fault. Casey's mind had been marred by years and years or betrayal from anyone he let near him, so it only stood to reason that the very act of letting someone inside, even if they really could be trusted, would cause all kinds of problems to him and his psyche. It was like, the equivalent for someone who hadn't been through this, of trying to believe that walking on a bed of needles, all point up, long enough to go right through your foot, wouldn't hurt you.
As for Stan, she wouldn't let him bother her. She refused to let him bother her. She pushed him completely out of her mind and kept him there… and, since the gym, he hadn't tried to contact her again, either… all for the best, she believed she was sure of it even though her subconscious would have told another story… the story of someone confused and unsure, totally oblivious to who this person really was and what they would do next.
And then their was her… there is always yourself to bother you. Her own problems; problems inside herself… but problems that, nonetheless, still dealt with the biggest factor in her mind: Casey.
Casey, her friend, her dearest friend… she had grown attached to him. She'd grown very attached in such a short time. It was strange; she could never recall herself latching onto someone so tightly… especially so quickly… she cared about him a great deal, yes; she felt she would do anything for him and she had no idea why. She just did… and she was certain she did. It filled up all the hollows she'd always felt. It gave her what she always wanted but never quite knew what that was… it made her feel whole, feel needed, like she wasn't just wasting her time with the usual thing she did just to feel good, or even, sometimes, when good wasn't an option, to not feel at all…
And now she was scared. She wasn't like Casey, no, she wasn't afraid to of betrayal… first of all; she didn't think it was even possible for Casey to have a single trait required for the act of betrayal, and secondly; when someone screwed her over she dealt with it by giving them a friendly fist in the face and then shut them out of her life from there on out… no, that wasn't what she was afraid of at all…
She was afraid to lose though. She was afraid to lose him to them, to fail him and have him fade into nothing; a shell, with all hope or emotion of any sort beaten out of him… she couldn't see that happen to him… but still, that wasn't the exact thing she was afraid of… It was more, she was afraid of herself.
Afraid that something like that could be kept beneath her skin… afraid that she could really give that much of a damn… it was not at all like her, and something in her mind told her that it was bad, told her that it was wrong, that it was unhealthy…
But even if this was the case or these were the cases or whatever it was; she could see what was happening right now to Casey. He was fading… he was fading into a shadow… and she couldn't let that happen. She had to stop it as soon as possible, and that would be the brunt of what she knew for sure.
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-- Sorry this chapter was so short and crappy… think of it as an "in-their-head" type of look… I've been terribly busy since I uploaded the previous chapter; last night was the first time I got to just sit down and write and my brain was practically numb… but there'll be more next time, I promise. Once again, I'm wicked sorry. Also, I'd like to thank Francesca for pointing out chapter five. I fixed it up so there's no more confusion (I hope). --