Short Stories [English]

Changes Pt.2

Kian felt like he was being watched. He turned his head and looked into a boy's eyes. He didn't know him, so he was probably new.

When the other person noticed his gaze, he quickly turned around. Kian smiled to himself. It was the first time in ages that someone had looked at him without that look of contempt.

He decided to take a look at his observer too. He was about half a head shorter than Kian and had brown curls that he styled fashionably. He reminded him of an American Tik Toker. Kian just couldn't remember the name. Well, whatever.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he was slightly startled when the school bell rang.

He quickly went back into the building and entered his classroom.

° ° °
After class, Kian quickly left the building. Outside he checked his messages: his father had written that he couldn't pick him up, so he had to take the bus.

With a sigh of resignation, Kian walked to the bus. He couldn't stand taking the bus to his death. There were always too many people and the poorly muffled swaying of the bus made him sick. He grumpily paid for his ticket and looked around for a free seat.

There was still one seat available. Of all things, next to the new one.

Nothing about the boy himself bothered him, but no one had treated him normally in years and he didn't know whether the other had already been informed about the incident. But he could also puzzle over that at some other time.

He went to the seat and sat down. After arranging himself with his worn, gray backpack on his lap, he looked to his left at his neighbor and noticed that he was staring at him. Yet again.

Kian cleared his throat, "Hi."

"Hi," replied the stranger.

"I'm Kian," Kian introduced himself.
Why did he even do that? Usually he didn't even talk to people who spoke to him.

"I'm Rayan," the other introduced himself. He had a slightly american accent.

"Since when have you been going to school here?" Kian asked.

"Since today. I moved here with my mother for the holidays."

"Where are you from, if it's ok to ask?"

Kian didn't know where his sudden need for small talk came from.

"California."

After a while, Rayan asked a question that really surprised Kian: "Uhmm...you seem quite nice and I'm looking for contacts in this city so should we exchange numbers?"

"Sure."

They had just exchanged numbers when Rayan had to get out. Kian stared after him, lost in thought.
Two stops later, the brown-haired boy also left the bus and walked the last few meters to the tall apartment building.

The stairwell was run down and dirty. The wallpaper curled and sometimes even came down. It smelled of things that Kian didn't want to question.

When he reached the fourth floor, he unlocked the - actually very not stable - door and kicked his shoes into a corner of the dimly lit hallway.

He listened for a moment, but apparently no one was home yet. Neither his parents nor his three siblings. Shrugging his shoulders, he went to the small room he shared with his siblings. There were two bunk beds against the walls. These creaked quite a bit, but still held up. There was a dark blue carpet on the floor and a wardrobe in the corner behind the door.

Kian climbed onto his bed and pulled out his notebook. After all, he had to take advantage of the temporary silence. For homework.

He found it difficult to concentrate as his thoughts kept wandering to his new classmate. What if he really didn't know anything? Could it be that Kian could then be friends with someone without a care in the world for the first time in four years?

Just as he was scribbling the last digit on his pad, Kian received a message from an unknown number:

Unknown: Hey Kian, this is Rayan

Hey Rayan

Unknown: And? What are you doing right now?

Learning, what else would I be doing?

Unknown: Tsk...nerd

With a slight grin, Kian put his phone aside and rolled onto his back. To his left, there were lots of scribbled pieces of paper on the wall. Each one contained hastily scribbled lines describing people. All people from his environment about whom he had collected information over time. There were pieces of paper like this all over the apartment. There was no end to them. Every single person in the district had their own piece of paper.

Kian didn't know why he did that, it was some kind of pathological urge. He couldn't help it.

Lost in thought, Kian dug out a new piece of paper and wrote a new name on the first line with a black inked ballpoint pen.

Rayan Wilford

Well ... I believe this is now getting a little more interesting. Like, what's in heavens name is wrong with Kian? Is he a psychopath? Is he dangerous? Or is it just some awfully weird kink? We're going to find out at some point...I hope, 'cause I certainly don't know either yet.
~Loo