Fear Awakened [Jonathan Crane / Scarecrow]

005

The next morning brought a biting wind through the thinning trees, a clear sign that autumn would soon be giving way to winter.

Jane stood at the corner of Jonathan's street, pulling her grey peacoat more tightly around herself and kicking at a few fallen leaves with her shoe. She was waiting for him and feeling quite awkward about doing so, both because they'd met only the day before and that he should have been there already.

Perhaps he did not care about punctuality, she thought, though the idea gave her a bit of a sour taste; arriving on time was something of a preoccupation for Jane and, wanting to assume the best of her newfound friend, she hoped he was not habitually late.

Soon enough however, Jonathan emerged from several houses down the road, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed as he walked. When he looked up and saw her lingering near the end of the street, Jane could have sworn she saw a flash of something that resembled disgust before his expression turned neutral, once more.

"Good morning," she chirped with a smile, the cold wind having turned her cheeks a soft shade of pink.

Jonathan said nothing, continuing past her as though she was not even there. It took her a few seconds to process that he'd ignored her as she stood there, blinking.

Perplexed, she continued after him, picking up her pace to keep up with his. He did not so much as look back at her until they were several streets away, when finally, he spoke over his shoulder.

"Please don't wait there again," he hissed. The words settled in painfully, leaving Jane wondering precisely what she had done wrong. After all, they'd agreed to meet there only the previous afternoon.

Her eyebrows knit as she caught sight of a split in his lip which she was sure had not been there the day before. She had memorized his face more keenly than she would have liked to admit and would have noticed something like that.

"What happened?" she asked gently. "To your lip, I mean."

He absentmindedly touched the cut as though he'd forgotten it was there, wincing when he made contact with it.

"Nothing," he dismissed. "But I need you to listen to me, this time. We can't keep talking like this, walking to class together and such. It isn't a wise idea for either one of us."

He seemed so stoic and resolved on the idea while Jane felt her heart sink. He hadn't seemed thrilled about the idea the day before, but even if it was just a small twitch of a smile, he had seemed happy.

Perhaps she had misread his response, but that seemed very unlikely.

"I don't understand," she said with a shake of her head, stepping around him so that they were forced to look one another in the eye. "What did I do wrong?"

For a fraction of a second, just another blip on the emotional radar, his face filled with pity. As quickly as it came, the flash was gone, replaced by a cold blankness.

"It's a bit of a leap to assume it was something you did rather than a smart decision I'm making for us both," he said. At that point, he was speaking in circles, getting no closer to answering any of Jane's questions but further away with every word.

"That isn't fair," she protested, dark eyes holding firmly on his lighter ones. "You don't get to make decisions for other people. Especially people you barely know."

"It will make things worse for both of us, trust me," he spoke as though that was the final word on the subject, stepping around d her to continue down the sidewalk.

"Is this about that cheerleader and her idiot friends? Because I don't --"

"Honestly, do you think Sherry Squires is the one who busted my lip, Jane? Is that the most sound deduction you've got?" he snapped.

She was shocked by the anger in his voice, even more so by the way it carried over like storm clouds in his glare. She carefully allowed what he was attempting to convey sink in; someone at home had hurt him, and it was because of her?

She knew better than to throw out the after school special lines about telling someone or going to the police.

Law enforcement had only complicated things when it was her mother attempting to rid herself of a very angry boyfriend, just months before.

It couldn't be any easier for a minor to get taken seriously.

"Who did it?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"We're going to be late," he answered without stopping or slowing.

"Jonathan, please." She impulsively reached out, capturing his hand in her own.

He stopped with a sudden jolt, staring at her in horror, face reddening.

"Whatever happened, I didn't mean to get you into trouble, honest," she promised genuinely. Her eyes filled with tears, the sudden display of emotion bewildering and embarrassing though she couldn't help it.

He flinched back with a cringe, dropping her hand.

"Don't do that," he insisted uncomfortably, "don't cry. You don't even know me."

The words left her lips before she could take them back: "But I want to."

Neither of them seemed to know how to progress from that weighty of a statement, Jonathan staring at his ragged sneakers and Jane attempting to bite back her uncharacteristic tears.

She couldn't explain what it was that left her with such a magnetic draw to this boy whom she barely knew.

Clearly, he wasn't the type of boy she or any other teenaged girl was accustomed to feeling that type of attraction to - thin and awkward, wordy and a bit cold - but there was something about him that she'd never seen in anyone before nor would she again. A type of spark that she had no word in her vocabulary to give name to.

"If this is some attempt at a practical joke, I can tell you beforehand, you'll be disappointed," he warned her, although she was fairly certain he knew that was not the case.

Unsure of what he was doing, he gingerly took her hand and kept his gaze forward as they began their walk to school once more.

"Because the element of humor in that situation would require me to believe it was going to work out in my favor," he continued pragmatically, "and make no mistake, I am absolutely certain this will not end well for either of us."

She chose to ignore the warning for the time being, focusing on the feeling of his hand encircling her own. Sure, she was certain it was nothing more than an olive branch of friendship, but she couldn't deny how it filled her stomach with butterflies.

It would be quite some time before she would understand how true his words were, how closely his warnings hit the mark.

By then, it would be too late.

Remember to click vote or leave a comment if you're enjoying the story! I'd love to hear any ideas or suggestions you guys have.