Skinny • Book 1 In The Reality Series

Calum

One minute I’d been standing outside the school taking in hungry gulps of the humid air after nearly barfing in shop class after a girl had sliced her thumb on a saw, the blood bringing back everything in a daze of smoke, grinding metal and smashing windows.

However, as Michael had emerged through the front doors, something in me had snapped and the next thing I knew, he was pinned to the brick wall of the building by my fist.

“What are you doing?” he yelled, not angry but alarmed.

“Why are you even here?” I demanded, glancing at the corner of the building and wondering how hard I would have to slam Michael against it to inflict any sort of serious damage.

“Get off me Calum.” Michael pleaded.

“You didn’t even go to his funeral.” I spat in disgust.

“I was in the hospital.” He replied defensively.

“Who’s fault is that?”

Wincing, Michael looked down.

“If I were his parents I’d press charges.” I informed him, “I’d never forgive you.”

“Hey!” a voice shouted suddenly, “Calum, what the heck  what are you doing?”

Startled I looked up and watched as Katy ran towards us.

“He killed him.” I informed her, as if she didn’t already know.

“It was an accident.” She said defensively.

“He’s the one that wanted to go to the party in the first place!” I snapped at her before turning back to Michael, “You were driving. You were drunk. You didn’t tell him to buckle his seatbelt, it’s all your faul…”

Before I could finish Michael raised his hands and pressing them against my chest pushed me backwards away from him. Stunned I stared at him for a moment before lunging towards him and tackling him to the ground.

“No!” Katy shouted, “What are you doing?”

Ignoring her I raised a fist and brought it down with a satisfying thump on Michael’s already bruised eye. Adrenaline rushing through me through caution, compassion and common sense to the window I raised my other fist, then brought it down hard on his left cheek. His jaw, his nose, his mouth, his forehead, I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop, until I was being ripped back and forced off of him.

Blind with rage I struggled against the person holding me until I felt their hand connect with my cheek with a harsh slap. Somewhat dazed I looked up and found Katy kneeling infront of me, watching my face wearily as if expecting my head to rotate and pea soup to pour from my lips in a projectile. 

“Are you good?” she questioned tentatively.

Reaching a hand up to cup my stinging cheek, I nodded slowly. Breathing out a sigh of relief,  she crawled over to Michael who was lying behind her, seeming unsure as to what to do with the blood spilling from between his fingertips, and helped him into a sitting position.

“Are you okay?” she asked, shrugging off her sweatshirt and pressing it to his nose, where the majority of the blood seemed to be coming from.

Glancing over at me Michael nodded slowly.

“Can I say something?” Katy sighed.

Running my fingertips through my hair, I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Hesitating for a moment, she looked between us before speaking.

“You two,” she said slowly, “Are being idiots.”

Frowning, I looked down.

“Yeah,” she continued, “Luke is gone, and I know it’s hard. I haven’t slept in three weeks, and I didn’t know him nearly as long or as well as either of you. But I do know, that fighting won’t fix anything. Yeah Michael was driving, but Calum you let him. None of us told Luke to buckle up, who cares who came up with the idea to go to the stupid party, we all went and you know what, honestly I don’t regret it. I regret what happened after of course,  but at that party I got to see what an amazing person Luke was, and I know he wouldn’t want you two to be fighting. You already lost him, do you really want to lose each other?”

“They said I was driving on the news.” Michael mumbled, out of nowhere, “My house, they threw water balloons full of red paint at it and smashed Annie’s Jack-o-lantern.”

Chewing my lower lip I looked down.

“They put my picture.” He continued, “People know my face… Everywhere I go, everyone looks at me with such… disgust. People I’ve never met, hate me, my parents hate me, you, I hate myself.”

“Michael.” I sighed, “I don’t…I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” he questioned, his voice cracking.

“No.” I assured him, letting my eyes take in the mask of black and blue bruises which covered his face, stained now the blood I’d spilled, “I want to, but no.”

“I’m gonna go.” Katy said suddenly, standing up, “You two need to work this out.”

“Do you want your sweatshirt back?” Michael questioned, holding the blood splattered garment towards her.

“No.” she said quickly, “You keep it.”

Nodding, he pressed it back to his face.

“We’ll see you on Monday.” I muttered.

Nodding, she waved awkwardly before walking away, leaving the two of us alone.

“For as small as you are, you punch like an MMA fighter or some shit.” Michael mumbled, once she was gone.

“Sorry about that.” I chuckled nervously, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay,” He replied, “I think everyone has been wanting to do that, myself included,  I deserved that.”

“No you didn’t.” I said quickly.

Shrugging, he looked out at the pickup circle which was starting to fill with Mini vans as Mom’s arrived to pick up the kids who were too young to drive a car, or too broke to afford one.

“Thank you.” He said after a moment.

“For what?” I asked.

“Not hating me.” He mumbled, seeming uncomfortable with where he intended to go, “You don’t know how much I need you right now, you know?”

“Yeah,” I replied, “It’s okay. I know.”