𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃, Robin Arellano

7

"There's nothing to talk about." You spoke, burying your head into your crossed arms that were resting on the table.

"You're not at the fire drill, and when I do see you, you're running through the hallway, crying." Bruce explains, using his fork to pick at the yellowish mashed potatoes that were on his lunch tray.

You don't respond, burying your head deeper into your arms as if that was possible. You hear him sigh, placing his fork down and turning to look at you.

"You know you can tell me anything... right?" He asks, bouncing his leg up and down. He was worried about you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you tear your head away from the space between your arms. "I know... I just..."

You blinked a few times before looking around, making sure Robin wasn't there. You knew he wouldn't be, it just felt illegal to talk about what happened earlier. Like you should keep it to yourself, until the grave.

"I talked to Robin earlier." You finally confessed, straightening your posture.

After you escaped Robin's harsh words and the oblivious Janitor's stare, you found the rest of the classes outside. Each one lined in separate lines, each teacher holding a sign up and taking attendance. You joined your class, slipping at the end of the line and wiping your eyes raw. Excusing that it was seasonal allergies.

"What? You talked to him— is that why you were crying? What'd the fu—"

"He didn't do anything." You lied. "I got locked in the bathrooms during the fire drill, kind of got scared that's all."

You knew you could tell Bruce everything. It just felt— embarrassing. Robin played you for five whole months, that's just so fucking embarrassing on your part. You felt like a fool for not seeing all the signs, for being oblivious.

"He was also stuck in the boys bathroom. You know... the thin walls." You explained. You groaned, noticing the look on Bruce's face. The ifeelbadforyoubutialsowanttosmashhishead look.

"Don't." You spoke before he could apologize, even though he did nothing wrong. It felt like deja vu— all the pitying looks and apologizing, even though they don't do anything wrong.

-

"I say you get revenge." Vance spoke, eyes focused on the pinball machine. His eyes moved with the small ball, praying that he didn't slip up.

"And do what?" You sigh, moving around him to pick a packaging of candy from the shelf nearest you guys. You examined it.

"I could beat him up for ya—"

"No!"

Vance sighed, hitting the button on the pinball aggressively before turning to look at you. A small grin was on his face as you looked at the score— he finally beat his score.

"I think you should one-up him." He explained, mostly taking his advice from his friend. "You just gotta one-up your past self! Beat your past selfs high score!"

"How do I do that?"

He pursed his lips, walking to the nearest freezer and grabbing a coke. He opened it, taking a long sip before the cashier yelled at him.

"Vance! You better pay for that! I swear to go—"

"I will! I will." He rolled his eyes. "Jesus."

He took a few more sips, his eyes glaring at the cashiers head for a few more moments before looking back to you. "You told him you were dating.. ahh what's his name? That baseball boy?"