Rason #9: People
Fatespeaker lay on her bed, the purple covers providing a degree of comfort. It hurt her to see Starflight like sulking figure left his room only on rare occasions to retrieve food, and then vanished back into the dark confines of his fortress. It felt like an icy arrow pierced her heart every time her gave her the cold, empty look that had become his signature over the past few days. Right now, she lay on her bed, listening to Taylor Swift, trying to keep the passionate fire of hate and victory burning. It grew harder every second that she tried. She tried to remember why she'd ever even thought about trying to date the poor man.
She'd first noticed him around 6th grade. She'd been working hard on an art project, and her friends hadn't been the best at the time.
"Come on, Fate! You can't draw! Seriously, let it go, and let;s get dinner!" Her friend, Squid told her. Fatespeaker shook her head.
"I want to finish this!" She said. She almost didn't notice Ochre coming up behind her.
"I don't care if you want to finish it or not! Let's get some food already!" She hissed into Fatespeaker's ear. She flinched a bit at the harsh sound, but continued drawing. She just wanted to finish one portrait, goddammit. Flame barged into the room.
"I'll be damned if I let one stupid piece of crappy art delays my lunch any longer!" He cried out into the room, behind him, Viper stalked silently, in his usual, broody, I-hate-the-world type of mood.
"Guys! I didn't say you had to wait for me!" Fatespeaker said, but the group of four just closed in around her, anger radiating off of them, like a wave. Flame raised his fist, but a voice at the door of the classroom stopped him
"You guys, this isn't necessary." The five of them turned around violently, and saw two students, around their age, standing there. One of them, was dressed in a blue hoodie, the ocean-green messenger bag hanging from his shoulder drew the eye, but ultimately, he had a relaxed vibe about him, as he leaned on the door frame. The other one, had a shy look about him, dressed all in black, his books carried modestly under his left arm. The silver band on his left wrist marked him as a part of the philosophy club.
"Get lost!" Viper hissed out. "This is none of your business!" The one in the blue, stood straight.
"I think it is, cause you look like you're about to beat the little miss there." He took a few steps forward. "Hey, Starflight, the usual?" He tossed over his shoulder. The one dressed in black, Starflight, grunted once. Viper grinned, and flicked out his knife.
"You made a mistake." He said, getting ready. The one in blue just sighed.
"Ah, sixth grade. A time of ignorance and childish stupidity." He said, lunging forward, and grabbing Viper's knife hand. "So didi you." He whispered, soft enough that only those nearby heard him. He promptly twisted his hand, and forced Viper to drop his knife. The sharp knee that followed the clattering of the knife, bent Viper in half, and forced him to stumble back a few steps. Flame stepped forward violently, ready to drive his fist into the blue guy's face. Suddenly, the voice from the doorway stopped him.
"I wouldn't do that." There was a subtle blood-lust, that forced Flame to look at him. The door had been closed in the three seconds that the exchange had taken place. In his hand, there were three darts.
"You think that's gonna threaten me?" Flame scoffed. "You use those to play games." He said. The blue one began to laugh
"I don't think I've seen him miss a bulls-eye in ten matches." He said. Flame just scoffed, and began to move forward again. Almost out of nowhere, there was a dart buried in his forearm. It took a little while to notice, but once he did, Flame turned to face Starflight again. Where there had once been three darts in his had, now there were two.
"The next one is going through your hand." The cold, threatening undertone remained. The blue one sighed.
"I hate when we have to go that far. Here, come on, what's your name?" He asked Fatespeaker. She just sat there, her pencil hovering onver the paper, eyes open wide. Squid stepped forward in an uncharacteristic display of bravery.
"You're not taking her. We're going to lunch." He said, the slight tremble in his voice giving away the fear he felt. The blue one was about to answer, but there was a loud banging at the door.
"I SWEAR TO GOD RIPTIDE! IF I COME IN, AND THERE IS A SINGLE GIRL IN THERE, I'M RIPPING YOUR TESTICLES OFF!" the voice came. The blue one went pale.
"Starflight, you can handle them, right?" HE said, before running to the nearest window, opening it, and jumping out. Starflight just sighed.
"We tried to stop you guys before she got here." He said. He turned around, and opened the door. On the other side, a girl, similarly dressed in all blue stood, her face red as a tomato. "Its just the usual. Riptide took off though, so now, its just me, and her, the one with the pencil in her hand." He gestured towards Fatespeaker, and she felt herself blush. Ochre noticed, and turned on her furiously.
"He's the guy who hurt both Flame and Viper, and you're blushing!?" Came her question. Fatespeaker shrank back from her. She shook her head gently, almost unnoticeably. Ochre was about to say more, but a fist crashed into her face, knocking her off balance. The girl that had been at the door, was suddenly standing next to her, cracking her knuckles.
"Damn. That felt good." She said. Fatespeaker would have said something, but she felt herself suddenly be lifted up, and carried. She looked around, and came face to face with Starflight.
"Shh. It's okay. Tsunami can watch our back." He said. Sure enough, as Flame charged forward, The girl, Tsunami, crashed into him, knocking him flat to the floor.
"Thank you." Fatespeaker whispered inaudibly. From there, she changed. She no longer hung out with her friends, if you could call them that. She spent time with the eighth graders, Starlflight, Tsunami, and Riptide, and a few of their friends. The more she hung out with them, the more she enjoyed their company. Eventually, she cut ties with her grade completely, and suffered through the last two years of Middle school. When she became a freshman in high school, she found the group of her old friends again. Ever since, her admiration had grown into a crush for the one that held composure, and power in a dangerous situation. Satrflight hung out with her, and failed to notice. Disappointment haunted her constantly. However, her tenacity won out in the end. She had worked her way to the top of the food chain, at least in her own point of view. Starflight trusted her with even his life. That was why she had to stop him from making the worst mistake of his life. If he ever got caught in a gay relationship, she'd get looks of sympathy, and he'd get looks of hatred. She didn't want any sympathy. She wanted to protect him, and that was exactly what she was going to do.
Starflight watched the rain hit his window and roll off slowly. The soundproofing in his room was being put to the test, as he blasted various heavy metal artists at full volume, trying to bury his sorrow in the wordless sounds of heavy metal. Each and every passing day, the sky grew more gray, and the rain changed from a natural phenomenon, to drops of despair pattering relentlessly against his window, aching to make him hurt more than he already did. Today was no exception. Starflight opened the window slowly, a cold gust of wind ruffling his greasy, tangled hair. A small white shape caught his attention. As it grew closer, he could make out the vague outline of a paper airplane. The airplane glided in, miraculously untouched by the rain, through his window, coming to a rest on the floor. Starflight grabbed it, and opened it.
Starflight,
I know you have absolutely no reason to trust a single word i may say, or write, but I need you to read this.
I already said this before, but I didn't say that about you. I can't promise that I love you, from the bottom of my heart, but at least, you've been my best friend since before we could talk. You remember the time in third grade that we put worms in Mr. Morrowseer's lunch? Or how about the time you actually put a dart through some kids hand? We've had some good times. I don't want to think that she could have ruined over 20 years of friendship with one audio tape. If she did, well…
That's beyond the point. The point is… Will you forgive me? I know that you're just getting into the whole idea of having your heart supposedly crushed, but please? I just want an answer. If you want to, write an answer on the back, and send it back. I promise that I'll be looking for it. If you want to say something in person, I'm in the park, or my house. You know where those are. Honestly, I need you.
Ever faithfully yours,
Riptide
Starflight re-read the letter multiple times. Each time, he felt closer to crying, than before.