Spooky

Chapter 32

-Scourge's POV-

I spend most of my time dozing in class, trying to stealthily catch some sleep without invoking any teacher's ire. It goes rather well, surprisingly; none of them particularly give a shit about me, though, as long as I'm not being disruptive. I even manage to sleep in my Chemistry class, despite the fact that Mr. Augold is such a hardass, by sitting in the back close to the door and propping my head up on my arm. Between sleeping, I keep thinking about what happened last night. Shadow hasn't mentioned what he told me since then, and I don't imagine he would want to, but I can't help but feel like I should do something. He's given me such a dark and hidden part of himself, revealed a secret not even Rouge knows, and...well, I don't exactly feel indebted to him, but I feel almost compelled to do the same. He trusts me, I want him to know I trust him too, I want him to know where I come from the same way I know what's made him into who he is today.

His silence throughout our day only serves to further convince me I should do this. He's more withdrawn during lunch than normal, but politely no one points it out; however, I do see Rouge pull Shadow aside on their way to class as I move off to go to my math class. If I didn't have to book it, I'd go see if everything is okay. Instead I vow to ask later on today, if he's still moping. I settle down in math class, dropping my bag to the floor, readying myself for yet another nap.

•~

The end-of-school bell shrieks as our teacher is mid-sentence, and he deflates, frustrated. It's Friday a mere few weeks before winter break (and midterms, though I'd rather not think of those), so the class was a bit...ornery today, to say the least, and the second the bell begins everyone springs from their seats, eager to get the hell out of Hell and on with their lives, their weekend plans. As I walk down the hall, shouldering my way through the crowd, I wrestle with the idea of going to my gang for advice first before enacting my plan, to get more than one perspective on the concept. Truthfully, I'm not entirely sure of how to do this, or if I'm even prepared, and part of me wants to prepare but the other part feels that would strip it of sincerity. I don't want this to feel rehearsed. It has to come from my heart, as his did, or I'll just feel unfulfilled. At the same time... I know I have a tendency to come on too strong when it comes to people I genuinely like. And the gang always have a better sense of timing in relationships than I do. Issue resolved, I shove open the school's back door. Stepping out into the afternoon sun, I pause, looking around for a moment. I don't tend to stop and look at the world very often, I realize, looking up at the crisp blue sky. The sunlight is thin, barely warm at all, and the cold breeze tears right through me; I shiver, zipping up my jacket and quickly buckling it as I hustle towards the parking lot. Taking in nature will have to wait for a warmer time.

The drive to our usual meeting-and-post-school-hangout-spot isn't very eventful. A bridge in a deserted part of town, right on a river, covered in graffiti, our oasis; I roll to a stop in a gravel patch, and hear joyful cheers from my little family. I grin, hopping off the bike, and walk forward with my arms outstretched, immediately tackled by several members all at once. "Scourge! Welcome back," a raccoon beams at me, long, fluffy tail wagging happily. A little chorus of "welcome back!" and "yeah, great to see you!" follows as the cluster around me disperses a little, giving me some breathing room.

"Thanks, guys," I smile happily, letting them guide me to the underpass, where we settle down either on the ground or leaning against the art-covered walls. Soda, beer, and spray-paint cans litter the ground, crushed and mangled by our feet either stepping on them or kicking them aside. I brush a couple out of my way to sit, feet crunching on the gravel, and many all about me do the same.