Connor My Dear Boy (FINISHED)

19

Nearing the end of the day on Friday, all of the students crowded into the school auditorium. The room itself was rather small, but that was no matter; many students ended up sitting on the floor, while the teachers lined the walls. Usually, when there is a school assembly, there are many students that tried to get out of it by going to hide in the bathroom, or students that were talking to each other or looking at their phones. However, in this particular assembly, the room was dead silent and there was not a phone to be seen.

Connor sat next to Aveline. Neither of them were looking at each other, although their postures were stiff and out of the corner of his eye Connor could see Aveline's cinnamon eyes tearing up slightly as his own hands twisted and knotted in his lap.

On the stage, Principal Mualim walked back and forth with his hands folded behind his back. Behind him was a huge slideshow slipping fluidly through photographs of car accidents, little cartoons of frowny faces and paramedics, and pictures of Kadar and Malik when they were younger.

"Everyday, many people are involved in car accidents," the principal droned on. "Unfortunately, lots of people are injured or killed in these accidents, like our friends Malik and Kadar Al-Sayf. Just the other year there were over two thousand deaths. Drunk driving is the nation's most frequently committed violent crime."

Connor felt numb. He felt like the world around him had simply washed away and that he was floating in space. Nothing else was there. Everything was gone, everything had changed…

Connor remembered feeling similar when his mother died.

"Studies have found that twenty one to thirty four year olds make up approximately half of all the drunk drivers that are in alcohol-related fatal accidents, just like Robert de Sable was. They are also responsible for more fatal accidents than any other age group, and seem to have the highest blood alcohol content," Mr. Mualim continued. "This is where the biggest problem is. Every single injury and death caused by a drunk driver is completely preventable."

Connor felt Aveline put her hand on his knee and only then realized that he was shaking slightly. Connor looked over at her sideways and she mouthed, "It's going to be okay."

Connor stiffened to prevent himself from shaking more and looked forward at Mr. Mualim pointedly, not responding to his friend.

"In the name of Kadar and Malik Al-Sayf, I challenge you to never drink and drive. If you feel even a little bit tipsy, do not get behind the wheel of a car. Once you are of legal drinking age, have a designated driver before going out. If you…" Mr. Mualim continued on and on.

"What a windbag," Connor couldn't help but think.

"Thank you," the principal finished eventually.

Behind him, on stage, was an enormous picture of Malik and Kadar when they were younger, the former probably around seven or eight and the latter probably around three or four. Malik had his left arm draped around Kadar, who was gripping a fishing pole tightly with both hands. Both of them were grinning wildly at whomever was taking the picture, likely their mom or their dad.

There was a noticeable pause in the room before there was a flurry of movement of students grabbing their bags and standing, beginning to exit the room. Aveline grabbed Connor's wrist and pulled him to his feet, which he was silently grateful for as the numbness had spread to his legs.

Aveline lead the way to one of the less crowded side doors, dragging Connor along with her.

"Shall we…?" Aveline began, once they were outside of the auditorium.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Connor muttered.

Aveline bit her lip and nodded. Together they made their way to one of the less crowded halls. Connor leaned against one of the lockers. He slid down to the floor and hugged his knees to his chest while he tried to gain control of himself.

Aveline hovered dutifully until Connor muttered, "I can't stay here."

"Are you still sick?" Aveline asked.

"I need to go home," Connor whispered.

"Do you want me to get your dad?"

"No," snapped Connor. He wouldn't understand.

"I'll be right back," Aveline said.

Connor didn't move and didn't even look up when Aveline returned with Haytham. Haytham noticeably hesitated before he put his hand on Connor's back.

"Aveline said that you were sick?" Haytham asked.

Connor bit his lip. "Maybe a little," he admitted reluctantly.

"Get up," said Haytham. "Let's get you home."

"Don't you have another class?" Connor asked hesitantly, finally looking up to see the concerned faces of both Aveline and Haytham.

"This is more important. C'mon," said Haytham, pulling Connor to his feet. "I will just get someone to stay in the classroom with them; it's not like we were doing anything.

"Thank you for telling me, Aveline," he added. "You may head back to class now."

Aveline shot a glance at Connor and nodded before scurrying off.

"I just need to get someone to keep an eye on my class," said Haytham, "and then we can go home and you can get some rest. Maybe you'll feel better after some rest."

Both Connor and Haytham knew that was not true, but Connor appreciated the thought anyways.