The Vituperator (NaNoWriMo 2015)

twelve \\ beckon

THE BUS JERKS to a stop and I shut the diary shove into the trenches of my bag. I remain still, just looking down at my hands, eyes unfocused and vision blurring as I think. Bryson had broken up with Alona, so why did she go? Why did she leave, I wonder? Everything seemed steady from then on, all she had to focus on was getting the group together.

I don't want to read anymore of the diary - at least, not today, or even this week. I feel as though it's all become too much - it's all been getting too real. Before, Alona's life was just something I could look at; I was a detached viewpoint of her world, just reading about how things went and learning things about her friends I would have never bothered to learn from them in real life. But now that I've read something awful - something I couldn't even fathom till now, I realize I'm not detached; I haven't been detached since these people pulled me down into their tangled little group.

I drop my head into my hands - it's quite a painful and awkward position due to the cramped space of the bus seat, but I just need to hide my face. I don't want to see the rest of the world right now; I'm furious and defeated; the gang has reeled me in and trapped me with a sudden need to make Bryson atone for his sins.

"I'm so fucked," I murmur, the pathetic sound of defeat being muffled by my palms.

"And why is that?" A voice above on my left almost makes me jump. My head snaps up to see who it is so quickly, a passerby thought of concern for my neck crosses the back of my mind.

The guy's standing right next to the empty seat beside me, his dark eyes dart back and forth between me and the seat, as if he needed permission. I don't really know what to say, so I just stay quiet.

"Jacques," he says slowly, pointing at himself as if he were introducing himself to an alien that didn't speak his language.

"I know who you are," I say, leaning back. Is he going to sit, or just stand there? It's making my palms sweat.

The most I really know about Jacques is that he's on the football team and Alona thought he was easy on the eyes. (Which I understand, he's got one of those faces that just seem approachable.) That's it. I go to school with the guy, but he's pretty much a stranger to me. Hence, my confusion as to why he's talking to me.

"Okay," he half-laughed, ducking his head down. He points at the seat and raises an eyebrow. "Can I have a seat?"

"Not like I could stop you," I shrug.

He settles down next to me with a tired gasp, the one you'd make after taking a huge sip of water. "So, what's bugging you?"

I frown at him, still confused. I'm starting to feel a little uncomfortable - what is this, a prank? What's with the sudden niceness? Maybe he saw the diary. My stomach drops. Maybe he wants it from me -

"Sorry if I'm making you feel awkward," he shrugs, lacing his fingers through the short dark curls on his head. "I just got on the bus - and, well - it looked like you were having a hard time or something - I was just wondering if you needed someone to talk to?"

My frown deepens. "I don't really talk to anyone."

"Yeah, that, everyone learned when you first came to school," he chuckles, "but you seem, kind of stressed or something. I might be overstepping or something, but my conscience just couldn't take it if I left someone I know having a breakdown on the bus."

"Glad you want to maintain good morals, but you're wrong. We don't know each other."

"I know your name, you know mine, we go to the same school - look, all I'm saying is that it's never good to bottle shit up. If you want to rant or something, with full disclosure, I can be your friend."