Triple Dog Dare (KankuroxKiba)

Chapter Ten

a/n: this chapter was physically painful to write. Also this chapter is the end of the second verse of the song that the story is based off of.

Chapter Ten

I feel sick all morning. Would Kiba find an excuse to not talk to me in class again? Should I try to talk to him or should I leave him alone? Maybe his mom is right about something. I'm not sure what though because she never told me what she saw when she read my palm. But maybe she told him that I'm bad or something. And maybe it's true.

My classes go by slowly and I don't pay attention again as I think about what I should say to Kiba... if I should say anything. There's this anxious feeling in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I miss him. I know it's only been a few days of us not talking but I was starting to get used to having a friend. No, not just any friend...I was getting used to being friends with Kiba. I care about him not because he is willing to be friends with me but because it's him.

The second to last bell rings and I hurry from my history class to chemistry. Maybe Kiba will show up late again, but I still want to get there early.

When I walk through the door, Kiba is there. It's almost a huge relief to just see him. He doesn't look as stressed or disheveled which makes me feel a little better. Maybe that was just because it was a Monday yesterday and he was tired.

He's sitting in his assigned seat wearing black pants and a gray T-shirt with some band on it. He's turned around talking to two of the other sophomores in the class.

Should I say something? He's talking to his friends and I don't want to interrupt and be rude, but I really want to ask him what's going on.

I get bumped into by someone's shoulder from behind me which makes me realize that I've been standing in the doorway and staring at Kiba this whole time. I apologize to the guy that bumped into me and slowly walk to my seat. I'm still looking at Kiba, willing him to look at me and say something. But he doesn't. He even turns so he's facing away from my assigned seat and talks to the person to his left.

Apparently I spent too much time thinking and worrying about whether to talk to him or not, because the bell rings sooner than I thought it would and Mrs. P is out of her chair and talking to the class. I look at Kiba one last time but he has his eyes fixed on the whiteboard like chemistry has always been his favorite thing.

...

"Remember we have a quiz next Thursday!" Mrs. P says as the students pack up, waiting for the bell to ring. I look at Kiba. This will be my chance. When the bell rings I'll hurry over to him and if he blows me off again like he did yesterday, I'll just have to keep trying. I look at him, but he's looking in his backpack as he puts a notebook away.

The bell rings and we both jolt out of our seats. He's closer to the door than me and he makes it there in record time. I follow.

"Kiba," I say as he continues to walk out of the door. "Kiba! Wait!" I say again, but he speed walks down the hall. As the other classes are let out and the hallways fill with people, I lose sight of him and I am blocked by the crowd.

He didn't even make up an excuse this time. I know he heard me. He's purposefully avoiding me.

I'm not going to cry over this, that would be stupid, but still I feel the lump in my throat and my breathing picks up. I slip into the nearest bathroom and lock myself into a stall. I don't sit down and I keep my backpack on, but I blink my eyes and take out my phone.

I pull up Kiba's contact and send a text asking him what's going on. Then I stay in the bathroom for some time as I calm myself down.

Once I feel like I'm not about to burst into tears, I leave. I go to my bike but I don't want to go home. I check my phone. No text from Kiba.

I sigh and make a stupid decision.

...

Instead of biking home, I bike to Kiba's. I don't wear earbuds and listen to music, I just ride and listen to the wind. I don't think much. I don't think about what I'm going to do or say. I just go.

It takes about fifteen minutes and I'm there. Hana's truck is in the driveway, so I'm assuming Kiba is home. I don't go up the driveway. I get off my bike on the sidewalk.

Before I can put my kickstand down, the front door opens. I look up. It's Kiba. Forget the kickstand...I let my bike fall to the ground and walk up the driveway a few feet. I don't go all the way up. Something inside holds me back.

Kiba and I are still separated by the screen door but I can see his face. He looks torn. His eyebrows are drawn in and his lips are pressed in a tight straight line. He looks like he wants to say something but can't. Or won't.

After staring at each other for a moment, I finally say, "I just came over to see what was going on with you. Are you o-"

"My mom doesn't want me to hang out with you anymore," Kiba interrupts me. He says it fast, like ripping off a bandaid. His voice is a little wobbly.

My chest hurts but I can't give up. There has to be a way to fix this. All she did was look at my hand. "Well..." I say, thinking. "Can I talk to your mom?"

I wait for a response, but Kiba just stares through the mesh of the screen door. He looks so sad.

"Is this because of the palm thing?" I say, walking further up the driveway. "I don't get it! I'm a good kid." When I stop, I'm about seven feet from the door. Kiba doesn't move.

"I don't know, Kankuro."

"Can you just come outside so we can talk?"

"I'm not sure if I should..." Kiba looks behind him in the house then back at me. I don't see tears but he scrunches his face up like he's about to cry. It reminds me of the face my brother would make when trying not to cry in front of our dad. Kiba's voice is small and for some reason, he looks like a child right now.

"I'm not sick or anything! Please, Kiba. You're like, my only real friend. Let me talk to your mom, I can reason with her."

Kiba rubs the back of his neck and looks down. "She's at work right now."

"Well, what can I say to her?" I plead. I notice my voice is getting a little desperate but I don't care. I would beg on my knees at this point if it meant I could keep Kiba around as my friend. "What can I say to you? I'm not a bad person!"

"I know," Kiba mumbles. He looks down again. "It was something about your dad."

I feel a sharp pain in my chest. That bastard ruins my life even when he's not trying. I look at my palms. How can she tell my dad is a bad person just through my flesh? I feel myself getting angry at my father, but I stuff it down in order to keep some composure while talking to Kiba.

"Look, I may be my father's son, but I'm not like him, okay? The apple fell very far from the tree."

"Kankuro..."

"Do you think I'm bad? Do you believe her?" My eyes fill with tears. I hope he can't tell through the screen door.

"I mean, she is my mom. But I don't think you're-"

"If you could come outside, would you?"

"Yes," Kiba says with no hesitation. He looks straight at me. I'm pretty sure we're both crying.

"I wouldn't blame you if you say no," I say.

I wait for him to respond, but he doesn't. I don't have anything else to say. Kiba continues to look at me, but I turn around and walk down the driveway. I get on my bike and leave.