The Undoing Of Heroes | ✓

eighteen

eighteen

THE MORNING after was uneventful. Another takeout breakfast, but afterwards we both dyed our hair the same dull blonde as the model on the package sported. 

I noticed Gray's absent mood. His thoughts were somewhere else, for sure. I hadn't a clue if it were to do with what I'd said last night, or the guilt of being away from his family. As I dried my hair, I threw him cautious glances. 

What on earth is he thinking?

The mood in the room was stifling, and the TV was off. The only thing the hotel's televisions sent were news channel, and they were all reporting about the chaos reigning over Crown Heights. With an absent hero, other villains came out of the dark, gaining names and fame. 

Ever since I'd seen a reportage showing our high school half blown up, I'd shut off the tv. I could only imagine what guilt must be crowning Gray's head as he saw the news. 

But he was absent. Physically present, sure. But mentally absent. I don't know what he thought about, and it bothered me. Usually I'd be able to read people pretty easily, given their body language or expression. 

But he was just ... closed off. A window with the shutters drawn. 

The tension in the room smothered me, stuffing it's emptiness down my throat. I exited the room in silence, shutting the door as silently as I could behind me. 

My footsteps were soft, silent against the carpeted floors of the motel hallway. I didn't encounter a soul as I went down to the lobby, the receptionist barely casting me a glance as I went out onto the parking lot. 

The light caresses of late summer winds made me wrap my jacket tighter around myself, glancing at my feet, and the gravel crunching beneath my shoes. 

Where should I go? 

I didn't know, and there was something liberating about that. I was a nobody. I didn't have any secrets, any lies. Nothing to weigh me down. I felt ... free. 

While Gray's feeling the opposite. 

What a predicament we'd placed ourselves in. In leaving, unlocking a new life for me and him. Would we enjoy it? 

I would. Gray would endure it, and the difference would be enormous. 

Don't fret over it now.

And I decided I wouldn't. I'd explore Dynamo City, and all it had to offer. I had little over ten dollars in my back pocket, and decided it'd buy me a coffee and a bagel to munch on while pondering over nothing. 

I caught the way the sun gleamed in shop's windows, how the still bright green leaves rustled in the wind. Teenage girls walked in clusters, laughing and grinning broadly with shopping bags swinging by their sides. A group of younger boys were skating by a concrete ramp, all of their haircuts covered by helmets varying in colour and shape. I imagined doting mothers had placed them there, together with the elbow and knee pads. Beside them stood a girl, clad in the same protective gear but stripped of the happy grin. A scowl curved her lips, and I found myself wondering why. 

I stilled a moment, observing the scene. Then I saw it. A skateboard, bright, neon blue lay by her feet, three wheels spinning swiftly. The fourth was missing. 

And I surprised myself, crossing the street and nearing the little girl. 

"Need a hand?" I asked, crouching down by her. Surprise registered across her features, then suspicion.