Righting Old Wrongs (Crow Country Fanfiction)

Chapter 3 - Beginning and Ending

Walter tapped his foot boredly. He was sitting in maths class, clicking his pen. The sums on the board made no sense to him and he saw no point in paying attention. It wasn't as if it would matter in the future, anyway. Walter wanted to be an artist. Which gave him an excuse to doodle in his book mindlessly. His hand traced spirals and shapes in his book. He drew faces, trees, houses, anything. He drew to take his mind off yesterday. 

He couldn't stop thinking about yesterday. He didn't know what had come across him, he didn't know why he had suddenly gone after Lachie. He hated Lachie! Well, maybe he didn't hate him that much. Actually, he definitely didn't hate Lachie. But it didn't excuse the way Walter had acted. He had been so stupid, Lachie wanted to be left alone. Why didn't Walter think about that? Lachie definitely hated him now, if he didn't already. Walter groaned internally.

"Walter!" The teacher called.

Walter shook his head to clear his thoughts. The teacher was staring at him from the front of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

"Uh, yes?" Walter stuttered.

"Yes, MISS. Walter, have you been listening in class? What's the answer?" She asked coldly.

Walter was silent. He didn't even know which question they were on. In fact, he didn't even know what type of maths they were doing. Walter swallowed and clenched his jaw. The teacher continued to stare at him. The kids around him began to murmur, one girl at the front even giggled. Walter felt his palms begin to sweat. He stared at the board, willing it to give him the answer. The numbers began to swirl together into a great mass of black and white. There was more people laughing now. Walter felt as though he was about to faint.

Suddenly, the classroom door opened. All attention was directed away from Walter, and towards the blonde boy in the doorway. Lachie Mortlock held the door open with one hand, the other clutching his schoolbag. Walter noticed a large, purple bruise on his forehead. 

"Why are you so late, Lachlan?" The teacher queried.

"Sorry, Miss. I don't have an excuse, I just slept in," Lachie stated. It sounded rehearsed and mechanical. Lachie did not meet the teacher's eyes.

"Alright, go take a seat. I'll speak to you after class," she said, with a glance at the bruise on his head.

Lachie seemed to relax, and slipped into the only empty seat in the classroom, beside Walter. The teacher droned on, and Walter began wondering. He looked over at Lachie, who was struggling to get his books out of his bag.

"Are you alright?" Walter asked.

Lachie continued getting his books out. He flipped to a blank page and began copying off the board.

"Did you hear me? Are you okay?" Walter pressed.

Lachie gave Walter the side-eye and ignored him. Walter was hurt, but not surprised. He had come to the conclusion that nothing would be the same between them again. Time to forget anything had ever happened. Walter began writing down a sum.

Later - 7:00pm

Walter sat slumped on the sofa, casually flicking through the television channels. David was already in bed, and he had been left alone with a bag of popcorn and free reign of the TV. He settled on a talent show, he wasn't sure which one. Walter popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth. 

Then, he heard the doorbell ring. Walter became instantly wary. Over and over again, David had told him NEVER to open the door for a stranger. But what if it wasn't a stranger? Walter got up from the sofa slowly, and crept towards the front door. He glanced through the peephole in the door, but found he saw nothing but darkness. He groped for the light switch, and the porch lights flickered on. Walter gasped. 

It was Lachie. Walter opened the door immediately. Lachie stared at Walter with a glazed over look in his eyes. 

"Can... can I help you?" Walter asked cautiously.

Lachie leaned forwards and rested his warm hand on Walter's shoulder. Walter was hyperaware of his touch, he could feel the blood pumping in his veins.

"Walter," slurred Lachie.

Walter pushed Lachie's hand off his shoulder. He could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Are you drunk?" Walter asked in disgust.