Chapter Sixty-Four
"Hey, druggy." Hissed the kid behind John's desk, pulling on the leather cord around his neck.
John reached his arms behind his head, catching the kid's wrist as twisting it into a painful position, smirking at the pop he heard as the kid whimpered in pain. "I'm not a druggy." He stated, shooting Dominic a look that told him to stand down.
The kid cradled his arm, noticing the splints on John's fingers and the scars on his hands. "What, afraid you'll fuck up your hand worse?" He asked, mad enough that he was ready to pick a fight.
John rolled his eyes, turning in his seat. "Listen Jackass, I'm not in the mood for a good brawl today, but if you would like I'd happily beat your ass into the dirt."
The kid scoffed, flicking John in the forehead. "Oh yeah? And will that be before or after your next seizure?"
Dominic's muscles tensed, ready to protect his cousin when he gave the signal. "Back off, Dickhead." He growled, taking the searing look from John as punishment.
John felt his temper rising, knowing that his eyes were darkening with every moment. "I don't get those anymore." He stated, turning his Bender glare on him. "And the cameras never should have caught that one to begin with."
The kid shrunk back slightly, his blue eyes flashing with fear as he noticed the same glare coming from Dominic. "You guys are fucked up."
John leaned against the wall as he watched the dodgeball game take place, ducking as a red ball came flying at his head. "Yo! Dom! Watch it!" He laughed as Dominic caught another ball, having just enough time before the next dodge to flip him off. He shook his head, pulling out his notebook and pen, running his fingers over the fancy cover as he opened it to the poem, he'd been working on for the last couple days.
They believe...
They believe I choose
to fill my veins with poison
They swarm like vultures
over the carnage of my life
They believe the rumors
and half-truths shown by
the media. If only I could
tell them the truth
They believe their own
brand of truth, even when
the story is truthful,
so how will I know?
They believe only themselves,
so how can I make them listen?
I need to clear my name and
reputation - I'm living clean
He smiled at the work, feeling the weight on his shoulders lessen a little. He looked up, noticing a smaller kid shying away from the bigger ones, noticing how he kept pulling his sleeves down. He slowly stood, letting his limp show to appear less threatening. He leaned against the wall with the kids who were out of the game. "Hey." He smiled, holding his good hand out to him. "I'm Bender."
The kid looked up at him, taking in the scars on his knuckles and the white line running though his eyebrow and the one along his hairline. "Cooper." He cautiously took John's hand in a firm shake, noticing how much rougher his hands were than his own. "You're new here, aren't you?" He asked, ducking as a ball bounced off the wall above his head.
John shrugged, knowing that he had the kid hooked now and he could lead him away to talk in private. "Yeah, moved from Chicago." He led the kid over to the bleachers, taking a seat and stretching his bad leg out on the seat before him. "Where you from?" He asked, noticing a little scar on his wrist.
"Around here." Cooper stated, noticing John looking at his scar.
John nodded, stretching and shrugging out of his leather coat. "Damn, it's hot in here." He tossed the coat beside his backpack, smirking as he saw Cooper's eyes widen at his collection of scars. "Abused." He stated, watching as Cooper looked up at him with a look that told John he was on the right page. "Folks are in jail."
Cooper turned his eyes up to John's face, the memory of where he'd seen him before coming to his mind. "You were the kid on the news."
John nodded, pushing some of his hair out of his face. "They got it wrong though. I'm not a meth addict." He turned his head to look at him, raising his eyebrows. "It wasn't my choice to do that one."
Cooper nodded, another question brewing in the back of his mind. "You did other stuff though?"
John nodded, cupping his hands around his mouth as he shouted at Tyler to duck. "Ty! Eight o'clock!" He smirked as Tyler ducked, letting the ball fly over his head without second guessing John's warning. "Just stuff to help with pain." He gave a sidelong glance at Cooper, keeping a wary eye on the jock who'd been in John's Spanish class as he got a little closer to Dominic. "You ever try anything to get high?" He asked, smirking as Dominic hit the jock with a fast ball.
Cooper shook his head, knowing that he probably looked incredibly lame to the new kid. "No. I've never even taken a drink of beer."
John beamed, happy that he'd caught him before he could be as dumb as he'd been. "Well, believe me man, you don't want to do that shit." He gave a shrill whistle, a signal for Dominic to dodge. "It's not worth it when you want to get clean."
Cooped looked at John, noticing the slightly darker circles under his eyes and the gray in his hair, along with his thin body type. "Did the drugs do that too you?"
John gave a half nod, rubbing a hand over his bandaged side as it started to itch again. "Some of it." He stated, turning his dark eyes on him as he spoke again. "The rest was my parents. I was lucky, my girlfriend told the hospital staff about their abuse after I almost died from a punctured lung." He pointed to the small scar on Coopers hand. "Don't wait until you're half-dead to ask for help." He stood as the bell rang, picking up his jacket and backpack as he joined his buddies to wait in the locker room for them to shower.
Thanks for letting me use the poem HMG2000!