Chapter Six
London was right. (When wasn’t she?) The walk to her sisters’ school was extremely short. The school was right around the corner and behind London’s home. I couldn’t really understand how I missed it walking home from school and living in Colorado my whole life, but then I saw how: the school was buried in a mass of apartments right by Belmar Shopping Center, hidden by some lost bark and overgrown bushes. It was literally invisible to the naked eye.
“Why this school? It’s so...isolated. Aren’t you afraid something could happen to your sisters?”
“Like what?” London asked mindlessly. She hadn’t worn shoes I noticed.
“I don’t know. Like...I don’t know. It’s just weird how they go to school someplace so secluded I guess.”
“You guess or you know?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.”
She still never fully answered my question.
After making it around the jungle of trees and bushes that liked to stick their branches out and scratch you, we finally made it to the front of the school where other parents stood leaning against trees or sitting in the grass waiting for their children. London chose a shady spot behind a half-circle of shrubs and sat down. I sat down next to her. She absent-mindedly started twirling a grass blade between her fingers.
“So...” I trailed off.
London looked up with those fiery eyes of hers. They were calmer today, like someone was hovering over her and blowing the flame out. They were a decent size; not too big or too small. And they were pretty to look at. Pretty, pretty eyes.
“Yes?”
“Um...I don’t know.” I finished senselessly.
“Hunter?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you fascinated with abusers?” She asked gently, curiously. Whoa. Yeah, that was a question I didn’t want to answer.
“I just...am.”
“Am or are?”
“Huh?”
“Is it a part of you or is it something you do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have to.”
“Well I don’t!” I didn’t mean to shout, and being in this environment with the quiet birds and silent insects and the noiseless adults with only the sounds of careless Colorado in the background, my voice was amplified. London was soundless for a minute.
“You don’t have to tell me, but you can trust me if you want to tell someone.” She finally said.
I sighed, exhausted. “I know.”
“Do you?” I looked at her. She was truly concerned, her body rigid and sincere. The grass blade was dropped and forgotten in the ground.
“It’s just...it has to do with my sister.”
“You have a sister? Older or younger?”
YOU ARE READING
Timeless
أدب المراهقينHunter doesn't understand why the girl from his computers class is so...weird. It's like London can't grasp the concept of the teenage social world. That's her name. London. London, London, London...pretty, pretty London. Dealing with his own family...
