A/N: It's hot chocolate season. It's chocolate season. It's sugar season. It's eat as much as you can of everything at the table season. It's the season to get fat. Enjoy.
The only hot chocolate I ever had came from small packages we would get during November and December. Me and my sister would sit and stare at the water on the stove top, hoping that we could boil it faster with just the power of our minds. Instead, of course, we ended up making it seem like it took longer than it actually was. When we poured our hot chocolate packets into our mugs, we'd pour at the very least two packets to get a good chocolatey taste. One was never enough.
I sipped the freshly made, not powder-to-water hot chocolate and grinned. "This is fucking amazing." The cold air seeped into my mouth as I spoke and instantly froze everything inside.
"Hot drinks are better in the cold." Henry nodded and stuffed his wallet into his pocket, looking at the crosswalk lights.
He was right. I've tried to do like what they did in the movies; sit in front of a fire place, blanket around me, hot chocolate in my hands. I ended up with a high fever the next day. From that day on, I thought of special movie moments like those to be like frozen dinners or cookbook recipes: the picture looks a lot better than the actual thing.
I sipped my drink again, feeling the taste buds at the tip of my tongue burn. That will bug me for the rest of the day. But for now, I ignored it and crossed the street, glancing at a few people we pass by. One woman wore a dress that went down to her mid-shin, her jacket just an inch higher. Her pantyhose moved oddly and I noticed the way she slightly moved her feet out like a pigeon when she walked. Out of a sudden burst of curiosity, I turned to Henry and looked down at his feet. They pointed inwards, sometimes stepping on top of the others toes. Every so often they would straighten out and walk perfectly in line for a while before they slowly turned back in.
My fingers tingled as a cold burst of air brushed past us and without much thought, I curled them into the insides of my sleeves. "So, what are you doin' for Halloween?" I asked, trying to sip my hot chocolate.
Henry shrugged and adjusted his glasses. "Aren't we a little too old for Halloween?"
"No! There is no such thing as to old!" I turned and faced him, walking backwards. "That's like saying you're too old to celebrate your birthday." Rolling your eyes and walking backwards is not such a good idea. I slipped slightly but quickly caught my footing, my heart racing as if I had actually fallen.
"So I guess you're going to school dressed up?" He asked. I nodded proudly with the biggest grin I could muster. He shook his head with a slight smile back and asked, "What are you going as?"
"A piece of candy corn." Henry sighed and shook his head again, muttering something under his breath. He just didn't understand; candy corn was one of the only things I had never seen as a costume. "For the past month, I've been trying to dye a shirt of mine orange and a pair of pants yellow."
He looked at me like I was crazy. Like I was child searching for something that was right in front of my nose. "Why don't you just buy yellow pants and an orange shirt? And is that why you have white hair?"
I shook my head and turned to walk normally once more. "You make it sound like I have money growing out of my ears." After seeing his slight blush of embarrassment and his eyes turn to stare at the people across the street, I sighed. "And I like white hair."
"And tattoos?" He muttered.
"Well, yeah. Tattoos are cool. It's art on your body." I grinned and rolled down the collar of my shirt, showing him the tribal like tattoo I had going around my neck.
A few people glanced at me, one even smiling as he looked back down at his phone. Henry, though, just stared. He didn't seem to know what to say about the black ink embedded into my skin. His mouth hang and he even winced a little, as if looking at it hurt him somehow.
After a moment of people staring and Henry giving me the extreme look of pity that I hated, I covered my neck back up and sipped my hot chocolate. I watched as he opened and closed his mouth several times before taking a breath and finally talking.
"Does it hurt?" He asked, sounding like he was sorry that it happened in the first place.
I smiled and shook my head. "Nah. I fell asleep when they did my arms. Doesn't hurt too much. But..." I looked him over, circling him almost like a judgmental parent who would never in a million years let their daughter wear a short skirt and a tube top. "I'm not so sure if you'd fall asleep. You've got baby skin. You'd be crying the whole time."
"I would not! How would you know?" A bright pink blush danced over his nose, helping bring out his freckles. "You've never even felt my skin."
I chuckled. "And I would never want to." Not a total lie, but not completely the truth either. It was kind of tempting to hold his thin shoulder and rub my thumb into it.
For most of the rest of the walk, we were silent. Henry would check his phone for the time every three minutes and I would glance up at the people walking past. I would wonder what kind of home they lived in and what kind of job they had. Some wore regular clothing; jeans and a leather jacket while others wore more expensive things; ties and long jackets that made them seem more important than they probably were. Almost every single one of them had a phone in their hands. They were either texting or calling someone, chatting on bluetooths and laughing at conversations I would never hear the other side of. It was almost disappointing. I enjoyed listening in to conversations that I had no part of.
The number of people died down the closer we got to the school. Mostly, cars pulled up, kids poured out, everyone made their way right into the school building. A few people sat outside on the steps, but they were waiting for others I could tell. Their phones rang or dinged and they texted or chatted until a car pulled up. A group of cheerleaders walked by and I couldn't help noticing the same blonde that was pushed into the third floor bathroom with Henry not too long ago. She talked with a few of her friends, only glancing at us for a moment before walking up the steps to the front doors.
"I've been meaning to ask," I stared. "who is she? She like your friend or something?"
Henry shrugged. "Eh, we used to be. We were friends back in the first grade. When second grade rolled around, she just didn't want to be friends anymore. Never knew why."
"Oh..."
We nodded to each other at the front doors and went our separate ways. I sat through science which seemed interesting most of the time except for today which was just a test. For the whole class, I just stared at the characters on the paper, not making any sense of them until the bell rang. Gym was much more exciting on the fact that we got to go into the weight room. Hardly anyone went into the weight room. The only ones that did were football jerks and advanced PE nerds. I ran on the treadmill for almost the whole class, helping relieve the stress and anger I had no idea was building up. The other half, I spent lifting weights and challenging others at lifting weights. Once it was all over, we all followed our teacher to the locker rooms and began changing into our regular uniforms.
Normally, people wouldn't have time to shower after gym. Sure, the showers were there and you could wash your hair real quick but you couldn't get clean, dry, and dressed before the bell rang. Of course, I didn't really care about bells. So I decided to take a shower anyway.
Students chuckled and whispered as I stepped into the running hot waters. I knew they were talking about me and the thought made my face drain and my ears heat up. A few teens' echoes danced off the tiles, allowing me to hear someone mumble a few rumors while another criticized me for taking a shower at that moment. I waited till everyone was gone before I sighed and started my frowning and actually washing.
The whole time I washed my hair, I kept thinking back to my crap shower at home. When we had first moved into the house, the shower would fill up the tub and it would slowly drain as we got dry and dressed. One time, I even took a long enough shower where, the tub filled up so much, water started flooding the floor. I got hell for messing up the fake tiles that made up the bathroom floor and ended up having to work for a month for the landlord to pay it off. Then, I had to work another week after to get draining liquids. It has been able to drain since then, but now, for some weird reason, you can't shower with hot water for more than a half hour. It annoyed me to no end.
The bell for the next class rang and I smiled. It had been about seventeen minutes. I turned off the warm water and quickly began drying myself off, thanking the shower that, even though the water wasn't hot, it was consistent. A few students began trickling into the locker room as I grabbed my clothes and ran back toward the shower stall, closing the curtain. Some had seen and even chuckled at the sight but I rolled my eyes. If I had seen someone run from the lockers and back to the shower stall with their towel barely hanging around their waist, I'd laugh too. Hell, I'd start joking with the guy.
As they walked out and jogged to the gym, I walked out and continued walking toward a set of stairs I hardly ever go down. In front of the set of stairs, the wall was made entirely of windows that looked over the parking lot, the running track, and the soccer field that sat inside the track. To pass the time, I sat down, slipping my backpack off as I leaned back against the stairs and stared. That's all. Just stared. I stared for the longest time and imagined myself on that track. I felt my foot bounce as I thought about it more, how good it would be to just run. Or to just walk to a place without any real reason other than to just walk. Not just for the sake of walking or running, either. Just to break this never ending cycle that I seemed to be on; wake up, go to school, avoid teachers, come home, chores, hide from dad, sleep, lather and repeat. I snapped my tongue off the roof of my mouth and smiled at the chocolate taste that lingered still.
Bellow, I could hear the door at the bottom of the staircase that lead to the parking lot open, leafs blowing in as someone jumped in place. The door closed behind them and I could hear their footsteps start up to where I was. Grabbing the strap to my backpack, I readied myself to run but there was no need to. It was just a regular student; chubby with his hat too small for his already small head. He jumped at the sight of me and backed away slightly. I grunted and let my backpack go, rolling my eyes as I tried to look around him. I swear, this kid was about as big as Henry was skinny. It was actually kind of funny.
The little weirdo soon ran off up the stairs and hurried to his class. It wasn't long, though, before the bell rang, signaling a warning to me that soon the whole staircase was going to be flooded with students. I quickly grabbed my bag as it started, the sounds of teenagers talking to each other already filling the air in the halls. I could hear the weirdo groaning and explaining to someone else why they were so late and what kept them, but it was quickly drowned out by everyone else groaning and complaining.
Once I reached the bottom of the staircase, I moved toward the wall and leaned against it. An ocean of people flooded the stairs, looking more like strobe lights with heads. The black and white uniforms flashed in front of me, long blonde and red and black hair swung this way and that. A few jocks even began shouting, clearly pumped for the big football game tomorrow. I scuffed. Halloween was for scares and spooks, for candy, costumes, horror movies. Football shouldn't be played during Halloween. If it was to be played for any holiday, then Thanksgiving would have been a better time. Like how it's showed in Hallmark movies and on cheesy t.v shows.
It slowly died down, only a few people here and there. A few teachers glanced at me with a sort of glare which I replied with a smirk and a nod. They glared harder and shook their heads, walking even faster down the hall while I chuckled. By the time the hall and stairs were cleared, the lunch bell had already rung and I was walking as fast as I could toward the cafeteria.
The hallway was long, plain, and almost silent. A few doors sat in the right wall; the culinary, screen print, and weight rooms. With a smile, I glanced into the window of one of the doors, seeing the four kitchens that made up half the culinary room and the dinning space that littered the other side in chairs, tables, and a television. Right next to the forth kitchen was another door, the window showing the chefs jackets and hats. I rolled my eyes. Geeze, it was like every class had a changing room. Even choir class had a changing room and they only ever use it twice a year.
A brown tuff of hair flashed past the changing room window and the door opened quickly. With a gasp, I pulled my head away, feeling all the blood rush straight to my face and warm the tips of my ears. And just as I went to take a step forward to continue down the hallway, the door opened and slammed me in the face, the sound of my nose cracking making me yelp.
"Fuck!" I screamed and stumbled backward, bringing my hands up to my face. The blood dribbled out and dripped past my lips as I began to chuckle.
"Sorry..." The culprit whispered and pulled my hands away, dabbing at my face with a handkerchief.
Looking down, I smirked at the sight of that chestnut hair and green eyes. "Well hello to you too."
Henry glared slightly, frowning as he continued to clean my face. "What were you doing peeking into a classroom like that?" He asked before licking the corner of the cloth and continuing.
"And what were you doing in such a rush?" I kept my smirk. When he didn't say anything back, I stopped his hands, feeling no more blood drip from my already sore and bruising nose. "I don't think we've ever introduced ourselves to each other."
"Henry." He said quickly, rolling up his handkerchief and sticking it in his pocket.
I nodded and loosened my tie. "Jack. And Henry is a stupid sounding name." Henry raised an eyebrow, clearly offended by my comment. I placed a hand up and sneaked my other arm around his shoulders as I started walking with him. "No offense, that is."
"You called my name stupid, yes, I'm going to be offended."
"Well, do you even like your name?"
There was silence for a while as he looked away, his hands slipping into his pockets. "Not...really."He whispered.
"Let's give you a cute name..."
"What? Cute?! Why not man-"
"Hiccup. You look like a Hiccup. Yes, I shall call you after a bodily function."
"That's stupi-"
"Come now, young Hiccup! You broke my nose and the only payment I shall take is extra chocolate milk!"
A/N: Chocolate milk is like liquid gold. So is egg nog. - ADAM
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