𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃, Robin Arellano

10

Present...

Robin watched as you walked away, your figure disappearing once you took a turn. He wanted to chase after you. But he couldn't— it felt like he was frozen, his mind spinning and heart racing.

And when he did get up, he felt like he was going to pass out. His vision clouding with blackness for a plot second before going back to normal. He stared at the door you were once sitting at, before walking inside, making his way to the phone.

Robin picked up the phone, dialing the Blake's residency. He brought it up to his ear, hearing the ringing as he nervously swayed on his feet.

"Hello?"

"Is uh— Finney there?" Robin reluctantly asked, knowing all about their father's temper.

"...No. Who's askin—"

He slammed the phone back into the receiver, shutting his eyes as tightly as he could, when the tears started clouding his vision. He opened his eyes, bringing his hands up to the roots of his hair to tug on them. Finney was really his only friend he could rant about you to, scratch that, rant to about anything.

maybe he should call you— no. that'll only make things worse and you're probably not even home yet.

And Robin did the only other thing he could do to relieve his stress— he punched a hole into the wall.

-

"You sure you wanna do th—" Bruce asked hesitantly, holding the box of matches behind his back so you couldn't reach for them.

"Yes." You stated annoyed, watching as Vance snuck behind him, snatching the box of matches out of Bruce's hands.  "Hey—"

Vance threw them to you, almost hitting Bruce in the face. Luckily he moved out of the way, yelping as he did so.

"I think this is a great idea." Vance declared, smirking as Bruce slowly backed away from him. He wasn't very fond of Vance, still scared. You tried to convince him that Vance was a good guy, but Bruce had none of it.

You grabbed a match, lighting it on fire before throwing it onto the pieces of wood. Hastily grabbing the box of Robin's belongings, you throw the lid somewhere behind you— flipping the box upside down over the fire as everything that was once in the box, fell. Immediately bursting into flames once it made contact with the fire.

To say you were furious was an understatement. You were beyond furious— in fact, as soon as you got home you called Vance and Bruce, telling them to come over. When you explained what happened and that you wanted to burn everything in the box, Vance cheered, high-fiving you. Bruce on the other hand, was hesitant about it.

You toss the box in the fire after a few minutes of watching everything disintegrate. Vance couldn't explain how proud he was of you, practically jumping around and shaking your shoulders.

"See? See! Screw whatever his name is!" He shouted.

"Robin."

"Pft! Who cares about his name? He's an asshole who wanted to date other girls? What type of excuse is that?" Vance spoke, wrapping a arm around Bruce. "Right, baseball boy?"

"I have a name." Bruce said, eyeing Vance from beside him.

"I don't care, baseball boy." Vance said, moving away from Bruce to you.

"Yeah, he is a asshole." You decided, looking away from the fire to stare at Vance. He grins at you, nodding his head.

"Fuck Robin Arellano." You say.

"Yeah, fuck him! Fuck Robin Arellano." Vance agreed, the both of you turning to stare at Bruce expectantly. He sighs, rolling his eyes. "Fuck him."

"Fuck who?" Vance asked.

"Robin." Bruce answered.

"Robin who?"

"ROBIN ARELLANO!"

The three of you burst into a fight of laughter, smiles on your faces.

Fuck him. He didn't deserve you. He was a five year old trapped inside a 13 year old's body. You should've burned all of his stuff sooner, you probably would've been over him way sooner. You couldn't even believe that you thought about getting back together with him— jesus.

-

You ate a spoonful of your cereal, looking up at your mom who was rushing around the kitchen, looking for her keys.

It rained last night. You prayed and prayed that it would continue to rain the next day, and luckily, it did. Rainy days were the best in your opinion— your mom took you to school, your mom picked you up from school. Just rainy days felt different.

Your mom grinned when she found her keys, holding them up in the air for you to see. She shakes them, "Finish your cereal. I'll be in the car."

Quickly finishing your cereal, you grab your backpack before rushing out to the car and buckling yourself in.

The car stops a few minutes later around the front of the school, your mom wishing you a good day before taking off. You trudged your way into the school building, wrapping your arms around yourself as a way to warm yourself up.

Finding your locker, you take out a book, ready for the first period of the day.

-

You were sure your shoulders had bruises on them— you were also sure your back was going to be sore the next day. Before you took off for your first period, you decided to just take all your books and just drop them off at the end of the day. You were so exhausted that you just threw your backpack into the locker, not caring if you got scolded the next period for not having your book.

Taking a seat at your desk, a sigh of relief exits your lips as there was a substitute teacher sitting at the desk, meaning no textbooks. You guys would probably have free time, no work.

"I hate the rain." Vance spoke once he made his way into the classroom, taking a seat as he buried his head into his crossed arms that were resting on his desk.

"What? Rainy days are the best." You defend, staring at his curly hair. You never noticed how nice it was. How clean and tamed he kept it, how you wanted to reach out and comb your fing— what the fuck?

He looks up at you, his blue eyes boring into yours. He has really nice eyes—

"It gets too cold." He interrupts your thoughts, which you were grateful for. "Plus it smells funky. I hate that smell... you smell it?"

"Y-yeah." You mutter, breaking eye contact as you looked down at your lap. What the hell were you thinking? What the hell are you thinking? He's your friend, he's your friend, he's your friend. Maybe it was the funky smell. Maybe it got into your brain and had you thinking things. But I mean who could bla—

"Y/N?"

You look up at him, eyes widening as you resembled a deer caught in headlights. What if you said all that out loud? What if he could read your mind? Could he? Holy shit.

He chuckled a bit, straightening himself out. "You okay?"

"I'm fine! What makes you think that— I think you were right, that rain smell is messing me up." You nervously blabbered, your cheeks felt like they were on fire. You hid your face in your hands, too scared to look at him.

"Told you!" Vance said, lightly slapping your upper arm with the back of his hand.

And now it felt like that one spot he touched was on fire, goosebumps rising.

"S-sure." You stuttered, removing your hands. You look at him quickly, taking note of how he was already looking at you. You look back at your lap, frowning.

"Why are you stuttering? That's weird." He joked, poking your side with his pencil.

You were going to explode.