Chapter Three

It was hard to wake up on Monday morning; Harder than it usually was, at least. I had to fight to get my eyes open, and then it was a major struggle to stagger around to get dressed and brush my hair. Not even bothering with makeup, I trudge down the stairs, grab 3 energy shots from the fridge, and fall into the nearest chair, seated at the dining table.

After waking up, I usually was fully awake in 10 minutes. My father, however,  was always too bleary and intoxicated by sleep to achieve much; all he did was get himself ready and left. I found it amazing that he drove to his job all these years without crashing because of driving drowsy.

 

Which was why I was surprised to find a note on my driver’s seat.

Raven-
I'm sorry about last night; I was unreasonable.
I was just so worried. I was worried sick. I
just want to let you know that I love you and
I said some things I didn't mean... I just get so
mad sometimes, you know? I already explained that,
though. Today I have an appointment with Dr.
Alman to see if medication is an option for my anger
problems; I'll be home later than usual. I love you.
Have a good day, sweetheart.
-Dad


Smiling to myself, I tucked the note into my glovebox and pulled backward out of the driveway. It was a short drive to the school that took only about five minutes; I wasn’t in a rush. I leaned back in my seat and drove with one hand, the other sitting in my lap as I fought to keep my eyes open and not run into the trees at the sides of the road.

 

I lived in a wooded area that had trees everywhere; on the sides of roads, in peoples’ backyards. You could always tell where a business’s  property ended because there was a sharp line where the fancy green grass ended and the woods began.

 

Such was the case with my high school; I was a junior at Greenleaf High, home of the Gladiators. The school had a lot of property, no doubt; about 8 acres all together. Some of it they left wooded to be part of the Cross Country track, and there were a couple steep hills on school grounds, but other than that it was that torturously boring grass. There were multiple entrances and multiple parking lots, all of which having annoying speed bumps. There was a roundabout turnaround thing at the front main entrance for the buses only.

 

I saw a figure at the side of the road, and instinctively looked closer to see if I knew them. It was a boy, tall and wearing a thick coat, head covered by a black baseball cap and hood. The only reason I pulled over was the backpack on his back" and the fact that he was shivering in the chilly fall air.

 

He must have been listening to his iPod because he didn’t hear me approach. I giggled to myself as I lightly pressed the horn, just making it bleep for a split second; he visibly jumped and his hands flew out to cover his head as he bent down. I could tell that was instinct for him; I had the same problem. Whenever I heard a loud noise, I crumpled on myself or raised my fists. Which happened depended on where I was. It was because of my history of my father beating on me.

 

He rose from his crouch almost immediately after going into it, slowly turning his head towards the car to look at me through the window. Sadly for him, my father had connections and my windows were slightly tinted. He had to squint to see so much as a silhouette in the darkness of early morning. I rolled down the window and smiled kindly at him.

 

And froze.

 

Piercings were illuminated on his dimly-lit face. He had black, shaggy hair under his cap’s bill that was pressed against his forehead. When he saw who had so rudely honked at him, his scowl lessened in intensity slightly and he pulled a pair of headphones off of his ears. Even from a few feet away, I could clearly hear somebody singing about a girl “screaming for his ice cream.” It reminded me strangely about how, just a couple nights ago, he had done the same thing to me while I was on the phone with my father.

 

“Hop on in. You’re shivering, and I can take you to Greenleaf. I’m going there. Obviously, since I’m up this damn early in the morning. But you know that.” I was rambling, and I made myself shut up.

 

Smiling back at me, but a slight scowl still on his face, Varen popped open the door. “So long as you promise me you won’t go off the road again.” He smirked slightly, but then his plump lips settled back into a straight line. “You didn’t have to honk, you know. You scared the s**t out of me.” I could see in his eyes that he was slightly embarrassed about his instinctive reaction to my honk, so I didn’t bring it up and pretended I hadn’t noticed as he slid into the seat.

 

I chuckled, more for his benefit than out of humor. If only he knew. “I’ll try my best… That was not my fault, I swear!” I made my voice all high-pitched like somebody on TV that was getting arrested, and he shook his head at me. “And I couldn’t resist the honking. I love scaring people.” I laughed again as I turned a right.

 

“You didn’t scare me. You just…” He searched for the right word. “Startled me.” His tone suddenly turned defensive, and it was then that I knew he really was self-conscious about his instinctual reaction, more so than I realized.

 

I shook my head, a smile on my face. “You sure that isn’t your pride talking, Varen?”

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him wince slightly at the use of his name, but he didn’t miss a beat in saying, “Nah. My pride was shattered this morning when my Mustang wouldn’t start and I found out I had to walk to this stupid hellhole.”

 

Varen came from a rich family; they lived in a nice house, and they only bought name-brand clothes. I had just realized that the house Varen had been in when I had gone into the ditch wasn’t his parents’ house when he said, “You just missed the school’s drive, crackhead.”

 

I ignored his comment and asked, not caring anymore about my rudeness, “Did you guys get a new house?” As I spoke I pulled into a random person’s driveway to turn around. He turned his head away from me to look out the window at nothing.

 

“No… I moved out. Got tired of them.” His voice had a nostalgic tone to it, like he wished he could go back but couldn’t.

 

I made a sympathetic aww noise, asking softly, “What’d they do?”

 

Even though my question seemed completely innocent to me, it meant the world to him. He tensed, resting his forehead against the window… Little did he know I could see his face in the mirror. He looked so sad, like he wanted them and missed them but for some reason couldn’t go back. But he also looked angry" no, more like furious. And in the mix somewhere I could just barely sense a trace of fear. Obviously, I was good at reading people.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” His words held a finality note to them, so I dropped the subject and instead scolded myself for upsetting this guy who had helped me so much. And how could I not have realized that night that the house he was in wasn’t his parents’ house? I’d been unobservant and hadn’t paid attention, and therefore hurt him.

 

“I can tell by the look on your face you’re beating yourself up inside. Stop. It’s not your fault.” He murmured softly. I glanced at him and then back at the road, seeing the school drive up ahead and wanting to slow down. I liked the warmth of the car and, even though it was weird, I liked having some kind of company. I didn’t want to return to the school where I got beat up every week and had no friends. But, alas, if I wanted to get anywhere successful, I had to go.

 

So I told myself as I turned into the drive and into a parking spot. I shifted it into Neutral and let the engine idle as I smiled shyly at Varen. “You know you can talk to me, even though we just met. And I can drive you home, you’re only a little ways away from me.”

 

He smiled. “I know I can talk to you. To be honest, I’ve talked more to you than I have anybody else… And I haven’t even scratched the surface yet. And I can tell you haven’t either. But, yeah, a ride home would be amazing. You want to meet here after school?”

 

“Yeah, that’ll work,” I said as I slid out of the car and onto the pavement. “I’ll see you here then.”

 

I had started to walk away when I heard him call my name. I looked back at him, my backpack over one shoulder and my textbooks in the crook of my arm as I asked, “Yeah.”

 

He seemed to muddle over what he was going to say and muttered, “Never mind. Only sounded good in my head. See you later.” Before I could respond, his back was turned and he was walking toward another entrance than I was going in.

 

Boys, I thought to myself.

That day passed totally uneventfully; I went through my classes, did my homework in class and didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know. Same old, same old. Nothing new. The only break in routine was when I walked up to my car and there, perched on the hood, was Varen. To be honest, I had forgotten about him. He matched the car perfectly; black on black. The only contrast was where his face showed, a pale patch against all of his black clothing and hair. I smiled at him and barked, “Get the hell off my hood, you! This is an old babe, and she’s been through a lot, you know.”

 

He laughed and hopped off in one fluid motion, waiting for me to reach over and unlock the door for him and sliding into the seat. “You took so long,” he stated matter-of-factly, “I was debating breaking in to see if you were alive.”

 

I laughed and elbowed him, backing out of the parking space and inching through the drive with the rest of the horde of student cars. He got a far-away look on his face, and said dreamily, “You know, I haven’t felt this comfortable with somebody else, so open with them, since… When I was, like, six? It’s weird. I’m used to being this antisocial lone wolf that’s practically invisible, and then you crashed into my mailbox and around you it all comes right out.” I nodded my agreement.

 

“Same way with me. I have a lot of “friends,” but they’re really not. I can’t stand them. But nobody else but the preppy little girlie-girls will accept me.” I sniffed. “It’s really kind of stupid. It’s not like I’m very there anyway.” I chuckled a little, and glanced over at him. He was staring out the windshield, not looking at anything in particular, as he murmured, “You would fit in perfectly with Jay, Ivy and me. Granted, you don’t wear black and supposedly practice witchcraft, but you’re a lot like them. Except more… Open. Not, like, sullen and hostile. There’s just times, I really want to open up to somebody… And even though they are my best friends, they’re just not right for that. You are. You know?” He flushed suddenly, like he had said too much, and I glanced at him from the corner of my eye.

 

“I get it. And with the idiots I’m stuck with, it’s almost like the opposite. You can’t even finish what you were going to say and they’re whining about how they’re so sorry and hurting for you. I can’t stand it. But I’ve heard a lot of what people say about you guys… How you’re the Goths and s**t. Whatever. Goth is just a label, for all I care, you’re you. That’s what matters.”