Running for Tara

Chapter 7

"I'm a mean drunk", Peter managed as he lifted his hand. There was blood scraped across the surface and Peter was in no state to be in school.

"You're not mean at all" Tar said as she ripped her shirt at the bottom, Peter tried to stop her but he was too sick to cause any damage. Tar wrapped the shirt across Peter's hand and sighed, "What happened?" Tar asked wondrously and by the look on Peter's face Tar could tell that he didn't want to talk about it. "Come on then..." Tar said and she wrapped Peter's arm around her shoulder. Peter was a lot bigger and heavier than Tar and she struggled to move at first but sensing her struggle Peter's legs began to work for the two.

"Where are we going?" Peter asked as they stumbled across the deserted atrium.

"We're going to my house" Tar replied, "Mother isn't home so we can get you all cleaned up there. I'm sure you don't want to go to your house looking like that..." Peter looked down at himself. His head stung and he was certain that his worn features resembled that of a corpse and not a human.

"Ok" was all that Peter said all the way to the bus.

Tar's house was small, at least smaller than Peter imagined and Peter noticed that it smelled like cinnamon and freshly baked bread. Tar sat Peter down on the sofa and turned on the radio, wandering off to get something like bandages or plasters. Peter began listening hard to the radio but had to stop it after he heard tar singing from in the other room. She truly was talented and Peter just listened to her, sweet and pure voice, trying to lock this moment in his memory.

Tar returned and looked Peter up and down.

"You should probably take a shower", Tar giggled causing Peter to flash a grin her way.

Peter wandered up the stairs to the shower and noticed a door was open. Peter glanced into the room which later turned out to be Tar's and smiled at how much the wonky, unique bed frame resembled Tar's personality. This made Peter smile. Why did he smile? Peter continued to the bathroom and noticed a picture of a smiling little girl, her older brother, father and mother. They all looked so happy and Peter could tell the little, grinning child was Tar. Peter finally walked into the bathroom and turned on the tap. The water was warm and as it hit his injured hand, Peter gritted his teeth and endured the pain.

A knock came on the door of the bathroom and Tar's small voice came travelling through the wood. "The clothes out here were my dad's. I don't think he'll be using them for a long time so they might fit you."

"Thank you" Peter called over the steam and rushing water that cascaded down Peter's spine to his feet.

Tar looked up from her book as the silver haired boy walked down the stairs wearing her dad's old clothes matched with his now tattered leather jacket.

"How do I look?" Peter asked as he twirled around, hitting his hand on the side of a cupboard and swearing. Tar laughed at how ridiculous all of this was; skipping school, inviting a stranger into her house and even letting him take a shower. These thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind when Peter flashed her a dimple smile.

"Doctor?" Tar asked and Peter nodded his head. Tar had managed to find some painkillers, a bandage and even a sling. As Tar wrapped the bandages around Peter's hand she asked him about himself and Peter replied;

"My Name is Pietro Maximof, my mother is... my father is god knows who and I have a little sister called... I moved to the city at the age of ten and hate it. My favourite place on the whole world is a tree house up by the forest, I can run really fast (a white lie) and I am looking at the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." Peter said the last section of the sentence so casually that Tar barely even noticed it, that was until Peter leant up and looked into Tar's eyes. Tar blushed and feeling her uncomfortableness, Peter asked;

"What about you, I know about you from music but tell me something I wouldn't expect."

Tar laughed restoring the world and began her story.