Don't Call Me 'Son' (Jeff the Killer Fanfic) [2nd Place in Jeff the Killer 2016]

Chapter 10

Passing footsteps echoed up and down the cafeteria, rushing hums of voices vibrating against the walls as doors contained the rowdiness within the food court. 

From outside, shadows seemed to pass Michael's form as he bit into his sandwich, the trees swaying to the wind, leaves flicking small spots of sunlight onto his skin. Again, eating by himself was the norm for him. Normal to the point that he preferred this silence over the loudness inside. Words were uttered wherever he went despite the earbuds he used to drown them out, attracting attention that he didn't need. So, keeping a distance was something he had to get used to. Since being put in foster care, the constant cycle of moving around to a new family made it harder to make friends around high school. Now that he was older, friends weren't all that important to him anymore. He had Jake. 

Instead of going to the library, however, he decided to eat outside of the cafeteria, away from the others. More so now because of his hand. Though he changed his bandages, it still needed a considerable amount of time before it healed fully. Until then, he would have to cope with the pain. 

           And the st a r es....

"Do you mind if I sit with you..?"

Michael blinked, his wounded hand twitching from the sudden voice. For a moment, he thought it had been a ghost or another voice that decided to form within his head. But upon seeing the unmistakable outline of boots, he decided that he was just being silly.

Besides, the voice was... familiar.

The male slowly raised his eyes to the owner of said boots, his blue eyes following the dainty figure of a woman. Besides her voice, the boots were the first sign that she was a female. They were carefully tended to, and she even had those frilly socks that girls were only known to wear.

Michael's eyes traveled higher, his eyebrows knitting together in thought. 

His vision was instantly met with a long skirt that reached to her ankles, the skirt layered and more appropriate to wear to work than to school. She liked to dress nicely, he noticed. Either that, or she was very shy about her body. His eyes traveled higher and a long-sleeved shirt came into view, marked with delicate embroideries at the sleeves, the bust concealed yet nicely noticeable underneath the thin layer. Yes, he was correct. A nice figure, but a self-conscious owner. This young lady was very reserved when it came to exposing herself. 

By now, he already had an idea of who this person was. A nice figure, a timid disposition: It was rare to find girls like this one. Yet somehow, he was able to meet one amongst an unlikely group of friends. And once he stopped at her shoulders, he found his assumptions were right. His eyes were instantly met with the shocking color of yellow. 

It was the girl that was from the group. 

The only one he found considerably nice. 

Look. It's your girlfriend, the voice quipped jokingly. 

Ignoring the voice, Michael stared up at the girl, her yellow hair almost hard to ignore. It was ugly color, but again, everything Michael seemed to dislike always seemed to suit her well. Like her rosy cheeks were complimenting her ha-

Don't let her stand there all day. Make room for her, the voice ordered. She looks like she wants to talk to you.

Snapping out of his train of thought, Michael slowly scooted to the left and made room for her with a sigh. He gathered his books, his bag, and his lunch before he placed them back down, each action almost flawless from the way she was looking at him. 

Michael removed an earbud from his ear and picked up his lunch. He wasn't hungry, but Michael wanted to pick at while he spoke to her. 

"Are your friends not here to bug me today?" Michael asked as he settled down, clearing his throat dismissively.