runaway

14 ~ ugly truth

- kinda another prologue?

Dream's POV

"You're going to be fine, honey." My mom ruffles my hair as she walks past me. "It's a new semester, a fresh start!"

"Yeah, I know." I say, watching the heart shaped cheerios stir around in the two percent milk inside the bowl. Were cheerios actually that good for your heart that they made it the entire brand? Has it always been the entire brand? But then again, things can actually be genuinely good for you. Mom's a doctor I can ask her, though I think she'd think I was idiotic for even thinking such a thing.

What am I even on about? I have school in an hour and I'm thinking about cheerios?

"I heard their football team is really good!" My mom was too enthusiastic for another cup of coffee. "Is it?"

I look on the back of the cheerio box, half listening to my mother as she babbled on about the sports that happen in this shit hole town.

"Clay, I know you don't like small towns, but I promise we'll leave as soon as we can, okay?"

That was her way of reminding me not to get too close with people because we'll be gone in a months time. "Got it." I place the box down and walk the milk-full bowl towards the sink, placing it there to wash later. "I'm gonna go."

"Oh, okay! So early?" I nod, looking down at the wood floors mom recently swept up. "Yeah. I want to— I want to get my schedules and locker and things before it gets full." My mom pulls me into another embrace. "I'm sorry I have to work so much, Clay. I know it's hard." She pulls back with a pitying smile on her face, "but you'll do great! I believe in you!"

I would never be mad at my mom for working. I'd never force us to live somewhere else just because I don't want to be here. Drista really likes small towns while I grew to hate them. There's so much inconveniences and it's hard to meet anyone new. I guess this is better than what we could've done. There's at least a population of over 2,000 people. I hope anyway.

"Thanks, mom." I slide on my shoes before grabbing a stray jean jacket, "bye, mom."

"Buh-bye, honey!"

—

"I know, George, but that doesn't excuse you missing classes—" I turn around the corner into student services, both the adult and student looking over at me. I didn't get a good look at the boy as he quickly looked down, "hello, can I help you?" I step backwards a bit, "uhm— am I interrupting anything?"

"Nothing new, no. How can assist you?" The man seemed to look older. He sighed aloud as he rested his hands on his hips just above the massive belt he wore than showed he beat a rodeo or something. He looked ugly, inside (and a bit of the outside. yuck.)

"I'm new this semester, just wanted to get started on schedules and things." I mutter, glancing at the boy who still stood beside the older man. He was twirling a loose sweater string around his finger anxiously. His long hair hid away his features as he did so, my only impression being being dark hair, fair skin, and the way he dressed. He didn't exactly dress up nice but he still looked good. A classic Harry Potter crew neck sweater and light-brown sweats. It looked comfortable.

The man sighs as he massaged his large forehead. "Every student gets their schedules in their first period class, which will be posted in the commons in twenty minutes." He looks up to me, "what exactly is 'and things?'"

"Nothing.." I mutter, kind of uncomfortable around his presence now. I didn't know why, he was just my least favorite employee and I could tell. His strong southern accent, his getup, the way he moves just infuriates me.

"Are you sure, son?" I can practically cringe at the end, "yes."

"Great." I give a silent look at the brunette stood beside him, but as soon as he looked up at me, I look away.

How is he so pretty?

I turn around and walk out of the room, hesitant to leave. I'm not going to get attached to anyone unless I really have to.

—

"There's this local library down the way! You could look around while your sister and I get the drinks." My mother says, pointing in front of us that had an old bookstore. The wood looked old, the windows looked old, all of it looked so old. Even the sign that wrote, "Bill's Books."

"Okay." She pulls over and I get out quickly, eager to finally have something to check out in this town. Yeah, the town was small but it did have a decent size with decent convenience.

I walk in and hear someone call "welcome to Bill's Books!" from the back. I look around at the new atmosphere. It was filled with old books and wood tables to study at, and there were lanterns to light up dimly lit spots. It was cozy, nice.

"Can I help you with anything?" A girl looks up from a book, a working smile on her face. "Uhm— no, no." I reply, "just looking around."

"Oh! Okay! This library is set up really weirdly, so if you need help I'll help! My name is Laila by the way." I smile, "thanks, Laila."

"Anytime!" She looks back down at her book and starts to read again. As soon as I look up, I notice the brunette from earlier organizing papers at the front desk that read 'checkout' on the front. I giggle to myself as I made a silent joke.

I quickly walk back into the classics section, finding old copies of Moby Dick, Pride and Prejudice, Brave New World. All these books I have yet to read and some I've read. The Tale of Two Cities, The Great Gatsby, To Kill a Mockingbird.

"Wow." I whisper to myself as my hand travels down the spines of the books. It was all so...old. It seemed authentic, like they were actual old books. Of course there was newer ones, but you can tell which ones were returned. The edges were torn and the spines were bent. Usually that would piss me off, but it somehow brings a comfort to know how much people read these books and have it a shot. It makes me happy.

"Welcome to Bill's Books!" I hear that voice again. It's a voice that rings through your ears and into your stomach, making it spin circles. An addicting feeling, I'd say.

I don't even know this boy and he's already doing wonders on me.

—

During graduation, he was the top of our class but he refused to do the speech during the rehearsals for graduation. Everyone had plans and I was willing to stick to mine. I was willing to leave as soon as possible.

I'd miss this stupid puppy crush I had on this boy, but that was all I was staying for. Now that I graduated, I can move out. I can do things on my own.

Looking at that now is a little dumb. I didn't move out for another two years.

I got the job at that bookstore and I finally talked to George. I finally found how funny he was. I loved how sarcastic he was. I loved his laugh. I loved his smile. I loved his kindness. George was a good person and that puppy crush became a yearning. It was a yearning that made me cry at night sometimes. It was a tough yearning.

I'm hesitant to leave now. After all this building and after all the trust he put in, I'm afraid of leaving. I'm about to move back into my parent's house just to delay the leave, but this is something I always had planned.

I always planned to visit everywhere I could and meet new people. I don't want to now. I want to stay in this stupid ol' town and see George every day, the smile I've seen on his face all week.

I don't think I'm ready from that look.

I need to leave this town, but how do I do that while keeping him?

You can't.

And that's the ugly truth.