If he could just wait a bit longer, wait until they cleared out, then it should be easy enough, remembering those early mornings and afternoons that he used to do the same thing, dodging the few students present in the building when he would arrive at 06:00 most mornings, back when it mattered to him. Of course, it still did, to an extent, the boy reasoned, dodging students the best way he could to get to his locker to grab his extra outfit, consisting only of just those same washed denim jeans and an old pair of his father's boxed briefs, ripped and torn in some places, but they'd have to do.
'You say that as if you have any other option.'
'You better hurry. Someone might see you if you wait.'
'You have to be careful.'
Picking up his bag, he turned to stand, using the bench behind him to prop himself up onto, pushing himself to his feet when a few other students appeared, and immediately Dash felt his heart race as Jackson and a few other students stood above the teen. They weren't much taller than him, with Jackson coming in at the tallest of the group of five, but they had something Dash did not: sheer size and muscle. As a matter of fact, he noticed as he tried to come to stand again before one of the boys (he couldn't tell which one) actually laid their hands on him, they were much stronger than him, shoving him back down near the lockers as the boy gritted his teeth to the sensation his waste pressing along the seam of his buttocks.
He could tell that it was beginning to dry.
He didn't dare look up at them, shooting daggers at the ground as his grip on the stringy, worn-out bag grew, spitting out through clenched teeth at the group as they seemed to be waiting for him to do so. So humor them he would.
"Hey, don't you guys have somewhere else to be? Mind going there so you can get the hell out of my way?" He wasn't scared of these guys, or he'd like to believe that he wasn't, chancing one eye, his least swollen one, to gaze at them, hoping that if he poured every ounce of aggression and anger into it...that maybe he could spook them. None of them left, though a few of them did look to each, smirking as they regarded him with nothing less than amusement, something that made him deflate a little at the thought of it.
Jackson didn't kneel, but he did look down at Dash, readjusting his bag and strap upon his shoulder.
His tone was cold, amused.
"I don't know, Baxter, do we? Do we mind guys?" The youth asked the others, the other boys in his group nodded their heads, each exclaiming that they didn't have anywhere to be in particular. Dash felt himself pull back as the former stooped down to meet his face, or attempt to, Dash quickly turning his head to angle it against the harsh fluorescent lights.
'Don't let him see my face, don't let him see-' But what he didn't expect was for Jackson to thrust his hand in Dash's face, bursting with laughter when the boy flinched away, covering his face with his arms as he braced for impact, an impact that never came, the other boys following suit. Dash felt his face burn hot, surely red as he uncovered his face, but still turned away.
"Okay, okay, we weren't sure, but we definitely saw you do the same thing with Tetslaff. The King of Casper High, twitching like a little fuckin' pussy cat? You're serious?" This captured a few other's attention, some of the other students crowding the lockers to watch.
God, they just couldn't keep their noses out of other people's business, could they?
"I don't...I don't know what you're talking about, Jackass, but if you don't get out of my way, I'll,-" Jackson leaned in closer, peaking a cut of his swollen eye, and smiled, pushing him again, this time until his body was sent on his back, the contents of his bag spilling out onto the tiled floor of the gym locker room.
"You'll do what, Baxter? Hit me? Call me a stupid name? Come on, what will you do? I'm curious." Dash couldn't answer him, turning on his side to catch the wind that had forced from his lungs when he collided with the floor, writhing as he could feel his back splitting in agony, cuts and welts alike ringing loud with anger as he tried to pull himself up. But his arms wouldn't stop shaking.
They wouldn't stop as he felt his eyes bud with tears.
"Come on, Baxter. What will you do, huh? Show everyone how much of a big shot you are! Don't be shy now!" Standing up, Jackson sent his foot into Dash's stomach, knocking the air from him a second time, this time he couldn't catch it, wheezing as he did so again.
And again.
And again.
Dash felt his body heave with great stress as he vomited a bit of oats and acids that bubbled in his throat between Jackson wiping his forehead, watching with disgust and repulsion as the teen gagged, spittle dripping out of his mouth as Jackson leaned down and gripped him by the shirt. He raised a fist to punch him when he felt Dash's hands upon his chest, trying desperately, as far as he could tell, to get away, to get away from him. Looking closer at his face, he could see something...his eye puffy and odd colors as what he could only guess was makeup had been smudged and wiped away. All the while, Dash had been saying, coughing as the last of his meager pickings had been ejected onto the floor, but at the same time, he could just barely hear him.
He was begging him to stop.
Jackson let him go, suddenly feeling sick, allowing him to fall back upon his bottom, where the teen writhed and twisted upon the ground, gripping his own arms as he laid there, still.
As if...as if waiting for him to continue.
God, what the fuck was with the guy?
"So this is it, huh? This is guy that is supposed to be the biggest big shot there has ever been? This little bitch is the big bad wolf that we've been shitting bricks over..." Looking to his left, parting the crowd with their frantic yells, a younger, smaller student burst through, huffing tiredly but, at the sight of Dash on the ground, he looked coldly to Jackson who'd, at this point, looked really confused...tired, even.
"Perce, I,-" Holding out a single hand, the younger student, burning with anger, began to shout at the other.
He wasn't hearing any of it.
"God, Jack! I told I didn't want you to...I asked you...not to do this very thing! I asked you to just leave it alone but what did you do?! You did it anyway?" The older student clicked his teeth, clearly annoyed.
"Well, you couldn't honestly expect for me to let something go like that, do you? You get enough shit from randos on the street, and I refuse for you to have to deal with that here, too, much less from a stupid asshole like him!" Gesturing to Dash, that had since resorted to simply lying there, something the Jackson found equally as pathetic, even disgusting, Perce him from pursuing him further.
His tone was patient, but firm.
"Look, I get it. Sometimes, people are assholes. Trust me, I know, but they just aren't worth the freaking trouble, Jack. They really aren't, especially not him." Perce didn't look back, but he gestured to him as well.
Jackson was torn.
"Fine." He said after a moment of deliberation, but stepped forward just a bit, looking down to Dash as he knelt beside him, rubbing his hands together as regarded his face again, avoiding the swollen regions of his face as he spoke.
He had something he needed him to know.
"If I find out that you ever spoke to my little brother again, if ever give him shit about anything again,..." He leaned down as far as he would go, leaning into his ear and whispering softly, where none of the other students could hear,"...I'm gonna make you're life a living hell, do you hear me? A living hell." Standing up, he went to turn around, but as if struck with an idea, he looked back of that boy on the ground, face turned up in a wicked grin.
"Oh, and by the way...," Jackson put his hand over his nose quickly, though his smile didn't leave his face, "...you smell like shit. Like seriously, Baxter, take a fuckin' bath, would you? Jesus Christ. Here, let me help you out." Gurgling, Jackson squished his saliva in his mouth, and spat it on Dash's face, much to the shock of the crowd, if they couldn't be more shocked at the scene before them, but most of them covered their noses, too, copying Jackson as the tall youth left, pointing at Dash, whispering, gossiping, gossiping, gossiping, at least, from what Kwan could tell.
"Oh my god, he just his ass handed to him!"
"He looks so stupid, lying there like that."
"He's right; he literally smells like shit."
"Did he honestly think he was going to scare someone with just words?"
"Wow, he is not as cool as they made him out to be."
His cool, teal eyes, followed their line of sight, and Kwan...Kwan felt sick.
Dash hadn't moved for a while, seeming unconscious as his breath came out in short wheezes. The vomit near his head looked sickening, a gross pool of yellow and brown as boy had since stopped coughing, as bit of it dried to the ground.
But Jackson hadn't been entirely wrong.
He did smell.
He smelled bad.
Really, really bad.
As a matter of fact, the teen could see, after Jackson's departure, several of them had left too, their complaints tied to his odor, but they had still laughed at him.
Laughed at him .
And so...so had he.
Clenching his hands, he looked at his watch, sighing as he watched the minutes go by, the students leaving one after another as if leaving the movies, speaking passively about the event.
But he was sure that people would be talking about this for a while.
But some students still lingered.
Some that took out their phones to snap pictures of him, on the ground, for a long as they could take the stench, then they left just as quickly.
'Maybe I could...stay and help? Just as long as no one sees me. Yeah, that could be fine...but...,' Looking at Dash, it wasn't as if any of them hadn't noticed it, the constant funk that hung around him at all times. Casting a glance down at his own pristine hands, Kwan couldn't help it, the sudden, intrusive thought that hurtled itself at him in his parent's voices.
'Should I even touch him? He could be dirty.'Their voices seemed to ring in him, and for a split second, he considered not doing it.
'He should be fine, right? If I could just ease out of here...' Dash hadn't moved for a bit, but he seemed to be stirring, appearing to wipe his mouth as he tried to push himself up, slowly, surely, as he gripped his own stomach. Kwan ducked behind the lockers as the youth stumbled to his feet, coughing and hacking at the strain, but he had managed to stand on his own. Kwan hissed, listening as the boy went to pick up his items, making little noise apart from a cough here and a cough there, the sound of a bag being grabbed and the objects being placed back inside something of interest to him.
He couldn't remember if Dash had ever actually showed them what was in the bag.
However, the teen gave pause when he could hear his voice.
Kwan flinched at it.
He sounded...lost.
"...K-Kwan? Kwan, are you there?" He said at first, or more seemed to whisper, just barely loud enough for Kwan to hear him, but it was enough for him to just pick it out, but he remained ducked down.
'Stay out of it. Stay out of it. Stay out of it.'
Dash called again.
His voice was shaking.
"Kwan, please. If you're there, if...if you're listening, please..." The boy stopped, almost as if listening for something, someone, but there was nothing but his own echo.
The other students had since left.
It was just him and Kwan left.
Kwan froze at the sound of it.
It wasn't too loud, it was hardly noticeable, but...but he could have sworn that he'd been...crying.
He...couldn't remember the last time he had heard him cry.
'Stay out of it. Stay out of it. Stay out of it.'
He could feel him, smell him, pass by the section of lockers he hid behind, but his presence was...unnerving. Like...a ghost, pardoning itself as he could hear his uneven footsteps, something more like a limp than him walking normally. He listened as he entered the shower area, that broken sound ringing and echoing and dancing about the walls as if mocking him, chastising him.
No, he practically screamed at himself.
What reason would he have to feel bad, of all things?
Grabbing his bag, shoes, and uniform, in one, smooth sweep of his arms, hauling his bag over his shoulder, he followed the path that Dash had, accept this time he took a right, breaking away from the showers but the sound...that terribly pitiful sound...
'He got himself into this,' His parents would tell him, their stern expressions like dark shadows behind his eyes, '...don't get yourself tangled in his mess. He's nothing...' He kept walking, the sound getting further and further away.
'...but trouble.'
He could hear the door to the locker room slam behind him as he left.
