Different colored minds

Boom

MAVERICK POV

I'm sitting in the library in front of the large ornate windows. in the distance I can see a teenager wandering through the parking lot. I scrunch my brows, as I watch him approach a red car—Joe's car. He stands in front of it, looking contemplative. Specifically, at the windshield. I don't know what he's looking at, the windshield looks fine from here. But something's off about it, and I needed an excuse not to focus on school anyways.

Scooping up my backpack I throw it over my shoulders and walk briskly out of the library doors, feeling them swing closed behind me. The trek feels long even though I'm walking fast, I can't help but wonder what he's doing, from the angle I was at I couldn't see his face.

The door to outside is up ahead, and as I'm about to pass through it, I notice Joe hobble down the hallway.

"Yo Joe!" I race to catch up to him. "Whatcha doing?"

He looks over at me and then back towards the front doors.

"The teacher lets me out early if I'm driving back home so I have a head start."

"Nice."

I open the door up ahead and step out to let him through.

"Hey, isn't your car a red Honda?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Someone was checking out your car," Joe's eyes flick towards me, it's always hard to read Joe's expression, but I'm positive there's something there.

"Joe, is something up?"

"Someone threw a brick through my window the other day, I just got the windshield replaced."

"Threw a brick? What did you do to make them that mad?"

"I don't know,"

"That's not good, I was already planning to go check your car out, just in case, but now that kind of makes it worse,"

"Thanks for checking out my car," we both walk to the car.

I look under the hood. I don't see anything here. I look into the seats and then squish my body under the car. I feel the scrape of asphalt under me.

And that's when I see it.

"Hey man do you have your emergency break on," I say slowly.

"Yeah, I have to this is a stick," the words cause a shiver to flow down my spine.

"The breaks were cut man, it's not safe for you to get in that thing," I'm trying to analyse what the fuck he must have done for someone to want to kill him.

Joe looks nonchalant.
"I see," he sighs. It's almost like he's thinking about something else.
"What's up?"
"Nothing," he chuckles.
"It's just my luck," he adds.
"I mean, this is a little more than luck though, I mean someone's out there dude," my brows crease. He looks so dejected not worried for his life.
He sighs, visibly exhausted.
The mask is melting off his face, and I'm not sure what I'm seeing.
"Joe, don't you want to talk to the police?"
"Is there an easy way to fix the breaks?" He states.
I gulp.
"Joe, you're not the last one this fucker is going to come after. That's how this goes," I state.
"You don't know that," he mutters.
"He clipped the breaks. He'd kill you and anyone else on the road man, I know you don't care for you but for someone else—" I start.
"Can you fix this before the late bus?" He sounds bored, withdrawn.
"What do you mean?"
"My car, can you fix it so I can go home," he says.
"So you don't care about the other kids who might die, you only care about the car?" I'm dumbstruck. 
"Never mind man. I'll see you tomorrow at school," he says and then pulls out his cell. He dials a number and I hear a robotic answer in the distance.
"I need to fix my car, the breaks broke, I think I need someone to come get it," I don't listen for the end. I walk away. I took a picture of the cut breaks. I have the evidence. I have the money to fund the court case. I even have an eye witness to the sus man fucking with the car. All he had to do was ask for help, and instead he chose to do it on his own.

I chuckle. I mean, im that way too. If you won't do it my way, I'll find someone else. No one listens to me, so I have to trick them into giving me what I want. I saw it the moment I met him. Joe and I are the same. I just don't cave in like he does. I reach out. I try and get better. I try and break free. And one day, I hope he gets his freedom too one day.
I smile and walk towards my whip. My GTO is fucking fly. It's orange and the engine sounds so fucking good.
One day, when he gets free from being alone I hope he will want to build a car with me.

I chuckle and slip away into the rush of cars leaving. I slip into the crowd and leave him alone. So why is it still on my mind?

Alright god
We need to have a talk about this. He clearly does not want my help. He has never wanted my help so why did you make me care. This seems pointless. But I know I'm supposed to pour into him. I can tell. But these are the reasons I hated myself. So why are you giving me someone to pour into that struggles with this too? Why can't I just coast?

And I already know the answer.
I feel it deep in my soul.

FINE. But only because you're the one who asked! I'll care still. Just let me know when I can stop. Caring gets exhausting.