Crushing Gravity

Chapter 8

I take it back; I take it all back. Leah is not a nice girl.

"Just leave me alone!" I scream when I come out of third period to see her standing there already.

She smirks at me, such a very different expression then I had come to know. I don't know how she could have fooled me; I'm usually an expert on reading sincerity.

She's so annoying. She won't leave me alone. I don't know what happened, or changed, but she's no longer looking helpless and uncertain.

She's determined and sure.

It's infuriating and I honestly don't know why I haven't punched her yet. I want to. I really want to.

My fists clench. She's not even saying anything. She's just following me.

"What's your favorite color?" She asks.

I whirl and shove her. "Back off!" I scream, drawing several eyes. I shove her again and she takes a half step back. It's like pushing a wall. "Just back the fuck off! Leave me alone!" I shove again and she takes a full step back. I go to shove again, because she's still so close that it feels like I'm suffocating, and she grabs my wrists to stop me.

My eyes widen.

"Don't touch me!" I snatch my hands back quick.

Her own eyes go wide and jaw tightens.

Anger.

Finally- an emotion that I can understand.

"Don't touch you?" Her voice is quiet, dangerous, and I suddenly regret angering her.

I don't know this anger. I know screaming and flying fists and I know that when it stops, it's over. This is controlled. This is restrained. This can build into something even more dangerous.

I'm not scared, I'm not scared, I'm not scared.

Sammy...

I know; I messed up.

"So you can shove me, try to hurt me, but I can't grab your wrists to stop you? That's awfully hypocritical of you."

Hurt her? That's not- I didn't want- it was never my intention to hurt her; I just wanted her to back up, to leave me alone.

Did I hurt her? She just seems so strong...

Her face softens and anger fades, but I know that it's there now, just simmering and waiting to explode at me. She takes a step closer to me, and before I can stop myself, I shove her again.

"Leave me alone!" I turn before she can attack me, and shove past the small gathering of students.

The exchange was so quick, the anger flaring and disappearing, the words, and walking away.

I can't stand this town.

I punch a locker as I walk past, splitting my knuckles again. They're never going to get the chance to heal.

I don't go to the lunchroom; whatever table I sit at would just flood with oversized boys. My skin is crawling, itching, I need to move, need to run.

I go to the gym to change out, taking off on the outdoor track. Mud splatters my pants.

Even though I don't necessarily need to cover up anymore, I still like the extra layer between the outside world and myself. If I don't, it feels like there is a pressure poking me between my shoulder blades, like a feeling that someone is watching my every move from the shadows.

I jog back toward the gym as the bell rings for class.

...

I can't sleep again. I had a nap in math and history, and now I can't sleep. I can't even sit still.

That weird pull is in my chest again so I slip silently out the window like I did the night before. The forest makes me nervous again.

It's not raining this time, but everything is still damp, making squelching sounds under my feet.

I'm not surprised when Wolfe shows up this time, silent and shadowed. Her silver coat glints with the flash of the moon. My unsteady breath catches at the beauty of the image.

Everything suddenly seems surreal. Like it's just a memory of a movie or dream of a book. Wolves don't get to be that large, and they don't meet in the forest with broken teenage girls.

No, not broken- I'm not broken.

There is no hesitance as the wolf glides over the spongy ground to meet me, and I have to reach up to rub her head.

I sit down in the grass and lean into her large leg. She's so very warm.

...

Spiders are creepy little things. Sometimes creepy big things. This one is both with long legs at least two inches, and just a teeny tiny body.

I feel bad for the thing, twitching everywhere with a bunch of broken legs, trying to inch away. Trying to get anywhere than where it is right then.

I know it won't make it. Some bird or other animal will swoop down to eat it. It'll be gone just like that, just that quick.

"Why won't you be my friend?"

I look up from the ground and the twitching creature, and meet big brown, and somewhat familiar, eyes.

"What?" I ask, even though I actually heard the question. If I had just waited for the words to process in my brain, I would have been able to answer. Instead, I ask, "what?" because that's just what comes out of my mouth. Because it's a surprise to see her here, standing over me outside the school during lunch period.

"Why won't you be my friend?" Leah asks again, crossing her arms over her chest and slumping against the wall to sit beside me.

"Why do you even want to be my friend?" I shoot back, because I really don't understand.

Ever since she dumped my own lunch on me, she's been really nice; but she already told me that that's not the reason.

"Look, I just... I feel drawn to you. I want to know you."

"Why?"

She opens her mouth, struggles, and sighs in frustration.

"I can't tell you that."

I study her face, the crease in her brow, the slight press of her lips, a muscle twitching in her jaw as she glares down at her fisted hands. Her hair is short, brushing against her cheek, but it doesn't look bad like it might on some girls.

She's actually really pretty. I don't usually notice something like that on a person. It's usually just things like, male, female, angry, not angry.

I try to figure out if she isn't telling me the reason for her so called 'draw' towards me, or if she just doesn't know. I get that sometimes. A feeling to do something I have no reason for.

She sighs, tilting her head back against the brick building, and stands up.

I hesitate before surging forward to grab her hand to stop her. She looks back at me.

"White," I say.

She looks confused. I would too. "What?"

I take a deep breath, knowing I'm going to regret this in a few short weeks. "My favorite color is white."

The confusion slowly disappears, and then her face brightens, her smile quick and blinding. I blink, slightly stunned.

Then I let go of her hand and slowly sit back against the wall. Huh.

She sits back down next to me, all of her attention directed at me.

"Why is your favorite color white?"

I shrug, feeling my cheeks warm. I haven't blushed in the longest time.

"It seems so pure. Untainted. It has a the potential to become anything it wants." I clear my throat. "What's yours?"

She just stares for another moment.

"Um, green. What's your favorite animal?"

"Wolf," I find myself saying immediately. It used to be a bird because they could just fly away from a place and never come back.

Leah grins, and I have to blink again.

"Mine too. What is-"

"Did you know that wolves are really big?" I blurt before I could forget to mention it. Things like that happen; thoughts just disappear, I forget what I'm supposed to be doing, I forget that someone is talking to me.

"Really?" Leah asks in interest.

"Yeah, there's this conspiracy to hide it from the public because the zoo people don't want to admit that they're scared of them, so they just use regular dogs in zoos."

"Wow," she says, not knowing what else to say.

My eyes catch sight of the spider again. He had made it about a foot away, legs still twitching and twisted at awkward angles. He was probably stepped on.

Such small things, spiders, compared to us. We don't ever watch where we tread, always killing things and making them suffer. Humans are such awful creatures.

A bird swoops down as I watch, hops two steps, and then picks up the spider in its beak. It's seven legs twitch, once, twice, the bird flies away.

"Are you ignoring me now?" An exasperated voice asks, snapping me out of my observations.

"What?" I gasp in surprise, and twist to look at Leah. I forgot she was there. My cheeks burn painfully. "Sorry," I mumble, twisting my fingers together in my lap.

I suddenly need to be moving, to get up and go, but I'm afraid that if I do that, she'll be offended again.

She doesn't sound upset any, just curious. "Where did you go?"

"Go?" I asked confused. "I'm right here."

She smiles. I blink. "Your mind. Where did your mind go?"

"I was just watching the spider," I answer honestly.

"It's like you didn't even hear me."

"I'm sorry," I repeat. "I don't...know how to act. I haven't had a friend since I first started in the foster system. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

She tilts her head and studies me for a while, and my cheeks get even hotter.

"I suppose you're not supposed to do anything. Just be yourself I guess."

"If I were being me, I would be pushing you away as hard and fast as I could. I don't make friends with people I'm just going to leave behind in a few weeks, " I scowl, and she doesn't look so pretty anymore. She looks like something dangerous, something that could hurt me deeper than any previous foster father. Well, maybe not that deep.

"You keep saying that you'll be leaving," she says slowly. "Why would you leave; do you not like it here?"

"Oh, I like it here just fine. This place is heaven compared to most homes I've been placed, but it never lasts. People generally don't...like me."

"I like you," she tells me.

The words are so simple. Just three words said in a matter of fact way. I don't know what to do with the words, what to say to them, if I'm even supposed to acknowledge them.

I choose not to and leap to my feet in order to pace. She continues to watch me from the ground.

"I'm not...right...in my head. I have a disorder that makes it hard for me to connect with people, even if I wanted to. I can't sit still; I can't focus on one thing; sometimes I forget someone is talking to me. Either I can't start on something or I get so locked in on a particular task and I can't do anything else. I have outbursts with no control over my emotions that usually heavily features anger and sometimes I go into a depression that I just can't snap out of."

She's silent. "You have ADHD." She says like its fact, and I'm surprised. Not many people actually know all the symptoms. They just assume that ADHD means you're hyper all the time.

It's more serious than that.

"Yeah," I say quietly.

"Hey, listen," she catches my hand, and I try to rip it away, but she holds it tightly in her warm grip. She won't let go so I just stop struggling. "Listen, it's okay."

"It's okay?" I ask doubtfully.

She stands, still not letting go of my hand. "Yeah, it's okay."

"Alright," I say, and finally, slowly, shake her grip.

It actually wasn't so bad.

A/N: Finally, am I right? Still, they have a lot of hardships to go...

Let me know what you think; is this a good pace? Are things moving too fast, too slow?

~Silver~