Fifteen minutes later Scott's standing outside at the front doors of the school. His backpack's strapped tightly against his back and he's rocking back and forth on the balls of his heels. After a while he leans against the brick wall, sheltering himself from the cold breeze that keeps scraping at his skin.

The doors open next to him. Agitatedly, Scott looks up, holding his breath. Unfortunately it's just a couple of girls walking out. He releases the air from his lungs.

He checks the time on his phone again, witnessing the passing of seconds, of minutes. Maybe he has just missed Liam. Why did he ask to meet him outside, anyway? He should've confronted him when he had had the chance.

But Scott knows why. This isn't something that should be discussed with other people around. The conversation Scott's planning requires privacy, or else Liam won't open up. Scott would be surprised if he did even now, given the fact that they're just vague acquaintances, not even the slightest form of friends.

Again and again, several students walk out of the school. Scott keeps throwing hasty looks over his shoulder; looks that change into disappointment when he notices none of them are Liam. Another fifteen minutes later he's starting to think Liam has used a back door and isn't going to show up.

Scott sighs, his breath forming clouds in the air before him. He shouldn't push Liam this much. It's only doing the exact opposite of what Scott wants to accomplish, actually chasing him away. Above him the sun is trying to pierce through the cloud layer. He has to squint against the glimmers of its light behind the onyx coloured curtain.

The helmet that he had neglected on the pavement next to him gets picked up, flattening Scott's hair as he puts it on. He checks that his backpack hasn't loosened as he walks down to the parking lot. One last look is thrown towards the doors before he attempts to throw his leg over his bike.

And there's Liam.

From afar, Scott can just make out the naïve look on the boy's face. He appears a little disappointed, but also apologetic and understanding, like a puppy that knows it has done something terrible, but just couldn't help itself. It's so innocent that it makes Scott step off his motorcycle and move back to his original spot. Liam gives him a small wave.

"I thought you had already left," Scott explains, sounding a bit unsure.

Liam nods. "Yeah, no, I know. I just…" He bites his lip, walking down the few steps, levelling himself with Scott.

"…You just weren't sure if you wanted to come," the older one finishes his sentence.

Liam gives a small shrug in response. His hair is still damp from the earlier shower; strands of it have fallen over his forehead. It doesn't have the upward spike shape it usually has, making him look even younger.

"So what do you wanna talk about?" Liam wonders when they've cut a corner, away from the school's entrance.

Scott blinks at him for a moment, disbelieving. "About what's happening to your arm," he says, restraining himself from sounding too obvious.

"What do you want to know?"

"How they got there."

"I told you. I fell of my bike," Liam says in a dreary voice. The monotonous tone makes Scott feel like there's no room for discussion, but he pursues.

"And the second one?"

Liam averts his gaze towards the ground. His feet kick the pavement a couple of times and some moments later Scott has a look as well, for Liam must have seen something really interesting to have been staring at it for such a long while.

"Are you okay?" he then breaks the silence.

"I'm fine."

Scott frowns. Liam suddenly looks back up again with this broad smile and Scott's frown deepens. He cocks his head to the side a little, glaring at Liam's straight teeth and his soft looking lips. His smile seems so real, but when Scott looks up into his eyes, they hint to the opposite. Liam must know this too, because a second later the ground below him has caught his interest again.

"Where did the second one come from?" Scott repeats his question.

Liam scoffs softly, followed by a barely audible, "I fell off my bike again?"

Scott's frown shifts into something a little more annoyed, the boy taking a step back as it does so. He's starting to feel offended, like Liam is playing a joke on him, like later he and his friend Mason will laugh at how ridiculous Scott's being. His reluctance to talk makes Scott feel like a total idiot, like a policeman following the wrong lead; accusing someone of something profoundly insane.

"Why don't you just tell me?" Scott tries again.

Another shrug.

"I think I already know, anyway…" he then endangers himself.

Liam glances at him from the corners of his eyes. "Yeah? Then tell me," he dares.

Scott shifts his weight onto his other leg, scratching his neck. Discomfort creeps into his muscles. "I think it would be better if you'd tell me yourself," he lies, because he actually has no idea if that would actually be better. The only thing he does know is that he wants to get to the bottom of this and not give Liam an easy way out by confirming one of Scott's speculations. Liam could easily be lying again.

"This talk is stupid. I'm gonna go," Liam then cuts it off. He attempts to walk past Scott, but in a tenth of a second the older guy notices a glimmer in Liam's eyes and suddenly he proves to be really fucking quick, because before either of them realizes what's happening, Scott has put a firm hand onto Liam's shoulder.

"Tell me," Scott now sounds much more demanding. His face is only a few inches away from Liam's, forcing him to look up at him. That worrisome glimmer is still there, but the rest of Liam's facial features are starting to show honest irritation.

"Why?" he fires back. "It's not like you would understand. We're not even friends. We're nothing."

The venom that drips from Liam's words catches Scott off guard, paralyzing him for a second before he straightens his back. "We could be friends."

"You're pathetic," Liam hisses. "Go and be someone else's hero."

But there's still this quiet shimmer covering Liam's irises, as if the ocean colour in his eyes is materialising, watering his vision.

Scott's stare proves to be unyielding. "No."

Liam tries to shake himself loose from Scott's hand, but Scott tightens his grip. Something inside his chest rises, like a ball of lightning that's being fed more and more electricity, until it reaches its maximum voltage, jolting through Scott's body with such a force that he caves.

"Do you cut yourself?"

Liam's eyes widen, strong lines in his face softening. When he blinks, tears start to fall from his eyes. As a last resort, he presses his lips together, the skin on them turning white, but it's in vain. Scott doesn't need to hear that he's right. The way Liam's body reacts to his question tells him enough; his limbs ripple into shocks, his nostrils widen and narrow from the quickened breaths he's inhaling to remain calm, his risen pulse visible in the vein in his neck.

A mere second later, Scott pulls him close. The hand he had placed on Liam's shoulder trails to the boy's neck, squeezing it gently. He can feel Liam's body push against his, but there's no sound of crying or sobbing. There's just this simple gesture that supposedly could be identified as a hug, but isn't really since Liam isn't hugging back; all his focus is being put into keeping himself together. And Scott understands this, because being so vulnerable in front of someone is terrifying and they're not friends.

They're not friends.

After Liam's crying – or something in that sense – has subsided, Scott offers to sit down. The concrete feels cold and creeps through their jeans, but leaning their backs against the brick wall somehow grounds them.

"Why did you lie to me?" Scott wants to know. He has put one leg under him, hands on his knees.

Liam smiles a little, still reluctant to make eye contact with Scott. "Well, how do you tell someone you hurt yourself?" he says. "It sounds weak and kinda…"

"…Scary."

"Yeah…"

Scott nods a little, quietly letting the back of his head fall against the stones behind him. The sun still hasn't managed to break through the clouds.

"Does Mason know?"

"Nah."

"Your parents?"

"Nope."

"Did you tell anyone at all?"

Liam scoffs. "Technically I didn't even tell you."

A sense of pride overcomes Scott, but he guiltily locks that feeling into a box and hides it away. "So…why do you…you know?"

Finally, Liam catches his gaze. "You can say it. It's alright," he ensures.

"Okay…" Scott sits up a little more, closing the distance between them ever so slightly. "Why do you hurt yourself?"

Liam smiles a little and, in the meantime, has gone back to staring at the nothingness in front of them. Scott wonders why he does that – smile – because someone shouldn't be smiling after receiving such a question. His face falls a little when he realizes that sometimes people tend to smile subconsciously, to lessen the weight, and to take the seriousness out of a situation. Because, sometimes, reality is just too cruel. And those thoughts sadden Scott. He wants Liam's smile to be genuine.

"It's hard to explain."

"Can you try?"

Liam debates the option. It causes the air between them to become even heavier, and Scott has never felt so desperate to want to understand something – not even Chemistry.

"Are you sure you want to know? It's quite a long story," Liam warns, and with that, Scott's heart breaks a little more.

"I'm sure."

Liam exhales deeply. He has started pulling at the weeds that are poking out from the sidewalk. "I guess it all comes down to my I.E.D.," he tells him. "I have a problem with aggression. I don't know exactly why, but I tend to blow up when I get too frustrated. They diagnosed it at my old school, which is also the reason I got kicked out. Something happened on the lacrosse field and my coach benched me for the rest of the season. I freaked out and trashed his car with a crowbar."

"Okay…" mumbles Scott. He changes his sitting position, pulling his knees up to his chest in a nervous behavior. He wraps his arms around his legs, sheltering himself from the discomforting feeling he's starting to get in his limbs.

"I know. It's a lot. And we haven't even gotten to the good part yet," Liam scoffs. "Anyway…I felt guilty for what had happened and made a promise to myself to never let things get that far out of control again. But it didn't make my explosions go away…I still experience them, only now, I focus them on myself."

Scott bites his lip. "So, instead of, like, punching the wall, you punch…" he air quotes the word, "…yourself?"

Liam shakes his head a little. "Yes, but also not really. It's a bit more complicated."

"How so?"

Liam sighs. "It's like…" he thinks for a moment. "I can feel myself getting worked up and then I remind myself to stay calm, but then I remember I have to let it out. I need to vent all that frustration somewhere and I just get into my own head. On one hand, I think I should push it down, but on the other, I'm convinced I should throw it out. And that just keeps going on and on and on until I feel like I'm going crazy. It's almost like I'm in this…fight…with myself and at one point I just don't know what to do anymore."

"So that's when you cut."

Liam makes a humming sound in the back of his throat.

"I still don't see how that helps…" Scott admits passively, hoping him having a hard time sympathizing won't push Liam away again.

"It calms me down. Somehow, it extinguishes the thoughts…" Liam explains. "See it as…you're trying to cross a very busy road, cars rushing by you from one side to another and then, suddenly, you have the ability to stop time, so you do and cross the road. Now, the busy road is my mind and the cars rushing in opposing directions are my contradictory thoughts. The ability to stop time is me hurting myself. After that, I can finally cross the road and I'm back to my old self again."

"Yeah, but it costs you…" Scott mumbles, gesturing towards Liam's sleeve covered arm.

Liam shrugs, rubbing at the spot where his cuts are. "Hey, they're just cuts. They heal. They don't kill me and if that's what it takes…"

Scott frowns at him. "You make it sound like it's nothing."

Liam turns his head. "Isn't it?"

Scott wants to say no. He wants to tell him it's not okay to hurt yourself, but somehow he finally understands where Liam's coming from. It doesn't make it right, but it still somehow justifies the entire situation. Empathy is a silly thing.

"It doesn't kill me," Liam repeats.

That makes Scott's ears perk up. "Do you want it to? Sometimes?"

"Do I want what?"

"Do you want it to kill you sometimes?"

Liam's back to picking at the street. "I don't know. I guess I wouldn't mind… I mean, I'm not scared of it…"

Scott sits back a little, visibly shocked. "Dude, that's not normal."

Liam shrugs. "I don't think of it as this big thing. We come and we go, don't we?"

"Well, yeah… But it's still a big thing," Scott tells him. "You can't kill yourself. I mean, there are people here that love you; think of your family and friends, they would be devastated if you weren't here anymore. Besides, life's not all bad. It can be good as well. You just need to focus on the positive things."

Liam nods slowly. Suddenly, he turns back to Scott, smiling again. "You're right. I shouldn't be so negative all the time."

Scott perks up. "Yeah, exactly! There are good things as well. I mean, you're great at lacrosse. Like, I'm actually scared Coach is going to make you captain. And I'm sure there are other things you're good at."

"Don't worry. I won't take it from you," Liam assures.

Scott blows a raspberry. "Hey, if it's better for the team, then do."

Liam chuckles. "Alright. Can I go now? Because I actually have to go home."

"I never told you you couldn't," Scott says.

"You sounded kind of persuasive in the locker room, though."

"Fine, okay. I'm sorry about that. I was just worried about you, that's all. I tend to go a little extreme when I worry."

"That's not a bad quality."

Scott smiles, shying away a little.

"Okay, have a nice weekend," Liam says, getting up from the ground. Scott does the same.

"You too," he responds. "And no more hurting yourself, okay?"

Liam's lips form a smile. "Okay."

Scott grins, watching Liam take off. He grabs the straps of his backpack, wiggling his shoulders a little, proud of himself.

All the while not noticing the sun still hasn't come out.