The Desolate Bridger

2 "You're Okay"

♪"I bet you laugh, at the thought of me, thinking for myself" ♪

-Silverstein

"How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off for you to take the hint," the boy remarked, frustration clear in his tone. Clearly, I still hadn't found out his name. It's been two days since my first day at school now, and yesterday he wasn't present, so I hogged his spot under the lone oak tree and drifted off till the end of lunch period. Today though, he decided to grace me with his presence.

"I didn't come near you, I'm just sitting under this gorgeous tree," I smugly retorted, earning an animalistic, yet somehow attractive growl from him. Here we go Birdie, now you're calling a boy who practically hates your guts attractive; you really know how to make your pick.

"Why are you still hanging around me? I warned you yesterday!" He snapped angrily, violently throwing his bag near the tree, and plopping down beside it, still making sure he kept his distance from me. That was one of the things that intrigued me most about him. Why was he so scared of being near me?

"I don't care what people think, I want to be your friend," I replied breezily, making direct eye contact with him.

"What if I told you I don't want to be your friend?" He questioned, his eyebrows creasing in annoyance.

"I'd say too bad, you're stuck with me," I smirked, amused by his frustration.

"You are terribly infuriating," he muttered, taking out his notebook again and turning his head away from me. After he put his headphones over his ears, he took out his pencil, and started scribbling words onto it again, making it obvious that he didn't wanna talk, but I was too curious to keep my trap shut. Since I've started school, I've heard all the occasional insults and rumours the students aimed towards him. They called him a freak, weird emo, waste of space, so many negative words, and I still had no idea why, it's pathetic really the things they said. And it wasn't only verbally that they tried to hurt him. No, it was physically too. What shocked me the most though is that he didn't even seem to care, it was always a blank face that he had on. The only emotion that ever crossed his features was the slight flinching or a whimper whenever anyone physically bullied him, or even just came near him. As a matter of fact, it seemed as though it was just me who noticed those expressions, because everyone else just laughed and enjoyed his humiliation and mockery.

"Can I ask you a question?" I retorted, scooching closer to him to see whether he'll flinch or not. He did, and whilst taking out his headphones, he turned to me.

"If I answer it, will you leave me alone?" He glared, making my lips quirk up in amusement.

"Sure," I replied, as he motioned me with his head to go on.

"Why are you so scared of me touching you... or just being near you?" I pondered, waiting for his answer. His eyes darkened a little, and his glare seemed to intensify by every moving second.

"That's none of your fucking business," he snapped his notebook shut.

"You said you'd ans-,"

"You wanna know why? It's because I think you're a filthy whore and I hate your guts. You disgust me, and being near you makes me feel like shit, it's all you, I'm not like this with anyone else," he yelled angrily, getting up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder again. As my mind processed his words, I could feel my eyes starting to tear up. Those words hurt a heck of a lot more than they should've, and I had no idea why. I knew that he was lying, that what he said wasn't really the reason for his constant flinching, but my mind didn't seem to care about that, it just replayed what he said in my head over and over again. But I blinked my tears away and instead of sadness, anger resurfaced in the form of words.

"You're a fucking asshole you know that?" I growled after him.

"An insensitive bastard who has no respect for other people's feelings whatsoever," I cried out in frustration, as he turned to look at me, shocked by my outburst.

"I saw you there sitting alone and I thought you might need a friend, I found you intriguing and I wanted to get to know you, thinking you may be needed someone to talk to, or would at least welcome the idea, but I guess I was wrong, you don't deserve that, fuck you and your friendship, forget that I ever talked to you," and with those words off my chest, this time I was the one to walk away, leaving him there in the middle of the field his eyes staring at me in complete and utter shock. I didn't look back though; I just kept on walking, just like I knew he would've done.

Finally, the day ends. I sighed in relief, attempting to stretch the sore back muscles I'd obtained from our wonderfully interesting gym period today. Our coach thinks she's training the next NBA league. Well I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but my future will probably contain a few cats, cartons of fast food and possibly a permanent number of stretch marks. Sighing, I stifled a yawn as I walked through the now empty hallways since I had to stay behind to speak to the coach about the team's schedule. My mind drifted off to the various events the rest of afternoon would include. They would most probably consist of, a shower, dinner, a short homework session, and perhaps a little bit of drawing. Or not. Because as I trudged through what I thought to be the empty hallways, I heard a muffled groan coming from the janitor's closet, and since as usual, my curiosity got the best of me, I decided to check it out. Maybe it's a stray animal that I could form some sort of cute friendship bond with, then my life could become something like a 'Free Willy' movie. But when I cracked the door open, my fingers clenched and teeth gritted with anger towards the scene that sat in front of me. Obviously, the closet didn't hold a stray animal, instead there was a body in there, lying down on the floor, hunched over, shaking. And it wasn't just anybody, it was one that I've come to observe and wonder about since my first day of school. It was the boy in black. I let out a loud startled gasp at the sight, all the fury I had towards him completely forgotten at least for now, and I crouched down next to him making sure that he's well aware of my presence by looking at his half shut eye lids.

"You're okay," I breathed out, getting ready to try and haul him into a sitting position, but he let out an ear piercing scream and backed away from me. Well as far as he can go with all those black and blue injuries disabling his body. His figure started shaking uncontrollably, and his breathing became shallow and unstable, and it struck me that he was having a panic attack. Worry and fear coursed through my body in a tidal wave. How was I supposed to help someone with a panic attack? Me, the person who can't even make a grilled cheese sandwich without alerting a whole fire fighter force. The boy's hands started fumbling with his pockets, trying to reach into them, but they were too shaky to collaborate with him, so despite the state I knew he'd be in when I did it for him myself, I knew it was better than him enduring this panic attack for any longer. Without further due, my hands flew forward towards his pocket and reached inside, causing him to completely freeze and start breathing even more heavily than before. Not wasting any time, I clasped my hand around the object in his pocket, taking it out and realising that it's an inhaler. So as fast as my body could function, I took off its cap, dragged my body closer to the boy, earning another panicked whimper, and placed the inhaler in between his blue lips, pressing down on it and waiting for him to breathe in. I repeated the process gradually for the next few minutes, until I was sure he'd calmed down, and after that I sighed in relief, taking the inhaler out of his mouth and deciding against putting it in his pocket for now. I just sat there, beside the beaten boy, dazed, my mind wondering, what the hell just happened?