AUGUST IS A FEVER

22

You all kept running without thinking. trying to get as far as possible until you got away. The thick and concentrated trees that were behind the convenient store you ran from. Reaching what was the other side, you found another road. On that road was a car parked on the edge of it. It was a van, with a cursive hand-painted logo on it that read "Betty Jean Cleaning" on the sliding door of the vehicle. It appeared to be a company car, but you couldn't see who was inside of it if there was even someone in it at all. The windows were tinted black.

For the most part, the three of you tried to ignore it as you stopped and began to speak to one another. If they left you alone, you'd leave them alone. It's not like you can't remove it entirely if you really desired to.

"Who was that? Are we safe?" George asked tugging at Clay's sleeve for answers. Clay's seemed to be the leader of your little group but right now, he seemed to have no idea what to do. However, you did.

"Um, I think we should keep moving." You chimed your opinion in, getting the attention of both of the boys who weren't expecting you to speak at all.

"What?" Clay asked. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean? I'm just trying to help. I don't see the big deal." You told the taller boy as he reached forward and grabbed your hand. "What...?"

"I -" Clay sputtered, debating on what to say. His face was red, although you couldn't tell if it was because of the running or if he was flustered. "I don't want you ordering us around. I'm sorry, it's just..." Clay trailed off, searching for answers. "What if you get hurt? Or hurt yourself?" You were quite literally taken aback, stepping backwards a little, not sure what exactly he was trying to say. Unfortunately for Clay, you took it in a negative way.

"Do you not trust me?" You asked softly, trying to stop your voice from breaking. The way you interpreted his words, they were sharp and painful. Stabbing, even. Not only to the back, but to the heart.

"No, of course I trust you, it's just that I -" Clay was censoring himself, preventing him from saying something fuy and completely honest. He really doesn't trust you, huh?

A subconscious anger pooled in the bottom of your stomach. Unbeknownst to you, the anger became physical and out of your control. Your hand that was held by his began to burn, a hot heat began to speak all around your hand. No matter how much it burned, Clay didn't pull away even if tears were beginning to form in his eyes.

"I like you." Clay mumbled. You pulled your hand away, not wanting to hurt him any further as you realized what you were doing.

"I'm sorry." You replied as you held his hand with your other hand, examining what you did. "I didn't realize I was..." Trailing off, you held back tears of your own. Why did you do that? You got angry at him. "Hurting you."

"I was trying to stop you from hurting others, but mostly yourself." Clay said as he stepped back. "I care for you, (Y/n)."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You apologized repeatedly as you tried to tug him to you, holding him closer. You held him by his middle, hugging him tight, softly crying into his chest. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I know I'm broken, but I'm trying. I really am."

"I know." Clay said, his body stiffening from the contact. You couldn't see, eyes closed and blurred with tears welding in them. Out of your sight, Clay ushered George away for the two of you to be alone. "I know you're trying and I'm so proud of you for it. I... like you." He managed to push out the last part in an even tone.

"I like you too." You said. He meant platonically, right? "But you're keeping things from me. You're leaving me in the dark about certain situations. I like you, but you need to be honest with me." Clay pulled you away and looked down at you.

"This is for your safety. Ignorance is bliss, right? I noticed that the angrier you get, the more your emotions overtake you and cause accidents like this." Clay said, showing you the burns you left on his hand. His eyes were glossy as he fought back tears.

"I can help you take care of your injury?" You asked in a questioning tone. Your hand went to his, but he tugged it away. That made your eyebrows furrow. "Are you afraid of me? Is that what it is?" You asked, the anger grew and blossomed in your mind, your eyes glowing red.

"No! I just..." Clay trailed off. This ticked you off. The guy you liked is afraid of you.

"You are." Your face softened. "You're afraid of me." The anger only grew no matter how much you didn't want it to. Heat crawled up your hands and arms, they glowed a yellow. The heat was strangely comforting, fire began to build in the center of your fists. Your emotions almost took over, you were dangerous.

"(Y/n), please calm down." Clay said backing up.

"I'm sick of being left in the dark. I thought you actually liked me, Clay. I really did." You said.

"(Y/n), look at your hands." Clay told you, face full of worry of which you mistook for fear. Begrudgingly, you looked down and were terrified of what you saw. Your veins were dark red and stood out from the yellow, glowing with fire.

"I'm doing it again." You mumbled to yourself.

You needed to get away from Clay and George. You would hurt them eventually. It doesn't matter if it was on purpose, you were a danger to their safety. No matter how you so desperately wanted to stay with the boys selfishly, you felt like you had to be selfless. It'll hurt you but at least you'll be alive.

Looking around for an escape, you decided to run into the forest. Now it was just a matter of timing it correctly. You looked up in Clay's eyes as yours melted away from its red color and into its usual one. He raised his hands up as if he was asking for a hug. It hurt to do this, but it felt in the moment that it was the right thing to do.

"Sorry." You mumbled loud enough for Clay to hear.

And like that, you dashed away and into the neighboring woods across the other side of the road.