amity // phan

seven.

-dan-

Blue.

Blue like I'd never seen it before.

Phil smiled at me from across the table. I was helping him study for an advanced functions test, or I was trying to, anyway. I kept getting distracted by him.

Blue was my new favourite colour.

It'd been my favourite since that night with him- the one in the park. We'd been spending more time together since then. I sat with him at lunch, and he even gave me rides home when he could afford gas.

"Kid, what the fuck is an imaginary number?" Phil asked.

He was staring at a sheet of paper in front of him like it was a monster, while holding his head in his hands.

I rolled my eyes. "Phil, you've been going to class, right?"

"Yeah, totally," he said.

And then: "Usually."

And then: "Sometimes."

And then: "Not really."

I met his eyes for a few seconds, and then it was laughter. He was smiling like the sun was inside him, and I couldn't look away. Even under the fluorescent lights of the library, he managed to look soft.

Most people didn't notice that side of Phil- the roses that spilled from his lips and the ribbons that tied his heart to the world. Instead, they just saw the sharp angles and sharp words he put out on display.

And then: "Watching you two flirt, it's almost adorable."

I looked up, and the ribbons between us were cut. The roses around us had wilted. Miles Angolio- a grade eleven neanderthal- had just sat down next to me. Shit.

I swallowed thickly as he put a hand on my shoulder. Ice filled my veins. He was the textbook definition of a flower-killer.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I wanted to walk away. Or say something. Or do anything that wasn't just sitting there looking pathetic. The problem was that Miles was about ten billion feet tall. And made out of truck parts. And it looked like he regularly ate children.

My skin was paper, my bones were glass. I wondered how long I'd hold up before crumbling.

"What's new, twink?" he asked, giving my shoulder a little squeeze.

I hated the way Miles spoke more than anything else about him. He used such ugly words. People like Phil said 'shit' and 'damn' and stuff- Miles said 'pussy' and 'freak' and 'fag'.

I really hated that.

I looked over to Phil- silently wishing that he might say something- do something- so that I wouldn't need to. But he was just watching, his face blank. For once, we were both quiet.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Miles sneered, lifting my chin with his hand.

His eyes were a dull, flat brown.

He didn't let go after, that was the worst part. He kept his hand under my jaw so I couldn't look away. My cheeks were burning- I'd never wanted to get out of my skin more.

"Jesus-fuck. Would you leave him alone already?" Phil asked, his words made of storm clouds.

Phil, for the first time in a long time, was truly scary. Everything about him- from his voice to his eyes- looked like anger.

"Nobody asked for your input, faggot," Miles said, loudly enough for the whole room to hear.

I could feel the eyes of the entire library on us. I wanted to disappear.