Freckle Boy

03: decency

POV: LEAH WALTERS

I look to my schedule and find that my next class is math.

I sigh in relief.

Math is probably the only thing that I keep living for, which is surprising since it's usually the thing that people kill themselves for.

No joke. My closest cousin offed himself right before his math exams two years ago.

I love my trauma.

I started really liking math right after Dad left because, at the time, it was the only stable element to my otherwise unstable life. You go about every problem in a specific way and there's always one outcome unless the directions say otherwise. See? Simple. And, if I pursue mathematics, I won't have to work with people in a large group setting. It can just be me, a whiteboard, and a calculator, all snug in a room together.

In an ideal world of course.

I step into the classroom and look around, my eyes falling on familiar faces. I spot Owen sitting in the back with a group of guys. His eyes flicker over to my figure in the doorway, and then he looks back at his friend who's clearly ranting. His name is Dylan, I think. He looks back at me, tilts his head in Dylan's direction and rolls his eyes, communicating that whatever Dylan's saying is probably boring as shit. I smile, compressing the flutter feeling in my chest.

I snap my eyes to the teacher who is still getting ready and then search the room for any available seats. My gaze lands on one a few rows in front of Owen and his friends and I walk over, placing my bag on the little hook behind my chair. I pull out my phone and hide it under the desk, checking my messages to see if Mom put some more money in my account. She hasn't responded to my text, so I exit the thread and open the banking app.

Leah's balance: $0.67

I sigh, mentally reminding myself to approach the subject with her later.

I scroll through my phone, mindlessly liking posts on Instagram, when I hear a familiar sound. A sound I know all too well.

My ears almost do a double take as I hear the sound once more and my heart pounds in my chest. I can already feel the sweat gathering at my hair line as I replay the blood curdling laugh I hear in my nightmares. For a brief second, my mind is separated from my body, as I frantically try and calm myself. I look to my right and see a boy next to me. The back of his head is lined with neat blonde hair and he's wearing a regular grey t-shirt with the word Decency on the back.

I freeze.

Decency.

My mind is separated once more and I feel dizzy, almost like I'm about to faint. I can't pinpoint my feelings, they're all over the place. Usually I can pinpoint them. Fuck. I feel numb and hyper aware all at the same time as I realize the stuff of my nightmares is slowly becoming reality.

He turns around and looks at me, his eyes glancing quickly, and then his gaze focuses on the board. Within another millisecond, they are back on mine, they're blackness sinking into my pupils, sucking all the light out of my eyes and filling my head with darkness.

A tear drops from my eye, and I feel it roll down my cheek, starting to dry right on my jawline.

"Don't cry," he commands, trying his best to whisper. This causes another tear to slip down the side of my face.

"I said don't," he says, raising his voice slightly, and I squeeze my eyes shut hoping no one heard.

He reaches out to touch my hand, his fingers grazing the scar that he gave me. I pull away.

"Say it," he says. "I know you want to say it."

I shake my head because I don't want to say anything but mostly because I have no idea what he thinks I want to say. I wipe the tear from my eye with the back of my wrist and take a deep breath.

"You miss me. I'm glad, because I miss you too," he says.

What? Is he serious right now? After all he's put me through, he thinks I miss him?

"No," I manage to get out. My voice sounds scratchy and squeaky all at the same time.

"What, no? You're fucking crazy. I didn't see you all summer, no calls, no texts. I found out you blocked me. How can you not miss me? We haven't talked in forever." His voice returns to a whisper and I thank Clara.

Woah. He's delusional.

"Leave me alone. Please," I say, my voice quivering.

"Just give us another chance, Leah."

I cringe at his words, but another drop threatens to fall from my eye. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but someone interrupts us.

"Everything good here?" A voice asks, and I look up. Owen stands up tall, in between the row that separates me from that monster.

"Yeah man, what's up? I'm Peter," he says, and reaches out his hand to dap up Owen.

"Yeah... okay," Owen says, giving Peter an unimpressed look. "Can I get through?"

Peter lowers his arm, looking embarrassed, but gives both of us a look out of the side of his eye. Owen walks through the aisle and over to the teachers' desk. I watch him talk, observing the way his top row of teeth show every time he says something. When the teacher turns around to pull something out of her cabinet, I see him catch my eyes, and he looks at me with a concerned glance, no doubt asking Are you okay?

I don't respond with my eyes at all, not knowing what to say.

Owen looks at me with a different emotion, one I can't read, as my teeth get a hold of my bottom lip. He smiles slightly, shaking his head, before the teacher gets up and shows him whatever folder she's looking at.

But I can't focus too much on Owen, because I know that Peter is watching him too.

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