Not A Straight Thing About It

Chapter 6

-Raphael-

 The weather was gloomy.

There was no rain, and the air was dry and biting as it swept through the distant fog covering the rising sun to meet with the ground.

Raphael stared at it out the window, his foot tapping against the floor as he rested his elbows on the table. It was too early by his standards, and he looked down at the wooden surface in front of him with a groggy glance.

It was the first day of school, and his backpack sat by the door waiting for him to take off towards the open maw of a new high school in a new town.

His breakfast had hardly been touched, and he picked at it distantly while resting his chin on his palm. The cereal swirled around in its milky bath with a distant disclosure of soggy bread, and he could feel his eyes drooping slightly as he spaced out again. . .

His head was hardly in the moment. . . his thoughts far away as he distantly remembered Zaynes hands. . . and the feeling of his nails in his hair. . .

"Raphael. . ."

His head jerked up and he blinked "yes?" he asked, looking up at the shape of his mother standing over him.

She raised an eyebrow "are you awake yet?" she asked, setting a small travel mug of coffee down in front of him "you're going to be late. . ."

He yawned, stretching his arms like a cat "I know. . . it's only the first day mom. . . nothing but syllabi and nonsense."

"I want you to make a good impression," she said, taking him by the arm and urging him to stand up despite his protests. She then proceeded to straighten his clothes and fix his messy hair "you're a mess Raphael. . . I never could make you look nice on the first day of school."

He grinned "and you never will," he taunted, earning a slight smack on his shoulder and a scowl shadowed by a small smile.

His mother crossed her arms "go to school Raphael. . . now," she said firmly, and he just sighed and slumped his shoulders in defeat.

She stood in the doorway when he left, watching his bike disappear around the corner. She worried about him too much lately, almost like he had suddenly turned back into a child and needed to be catered to constantly. . . ever since what happened it's been like that for everyone.

Raphael couldn't help but smile to himself, she was a strong person. . .

The school loomed ahead of him in almost no time, and he chained his bike outside and paused before the open doors. Already a few students were casting glances towards him, and he attempted to ignore them to the best of his ability as he put a hand in his pocket and walked into the threatening rivers of people in the hallways.

The wind was carried inside through the open doors, and a gust blew a few papers out of somebody's grasp. Others swarmed to her aid and stacked them neatly back into their previous piles, the group of helpers closing into a small circle of people that provided a block to the flow of the hallway.

Raphael watched from the corner of his eyes, then only sighed and walked with a faster pace to his locker.

He rounded a corner, however, and his gaze instantly landed on an awfully familiar group. They all stood facing the lockers, seeming to surround a singular kid who was attempting to ignore them as he rummaged through his locker.

Raphael grimaced, stopping and watching from afar, almost running into someone as he did so and hearing them curse at him under their breath.

"Hey Frostipoo," Brandon cooed, resting one hand against the lockers and towering over the small guy.