Their Story (Only Up To Chapter 15)

No Jacket

It's a colder day on the fine, partly cloudy, Thursday that finds Shawn entering the library to examine his previous entry to check for any continuity errors which he does not find prompting him to erase it and begin to write more. The bliss of creation flows through him as he tells his tale full of energy and joy, getting into the zone until he hears a voice ask, "how long you been doing this?"

He turns to be greeted by Abigail, immediately knocking him out of the zone as he looks around, hoping, praying Johnny is somewhere nearby.

It's to early in the morning for most anyone else to be there but him. He prefers to write the entries before anyone else arrives, as to avoid anyone speaking to him.

"You're here this early?" He inquires.

"Yeah I wanted to walk here and get some fresh air," Abigail explains, "my house isn't to far from here so I got here sooner than I expected."

"Oh," Shawn replies, "uhhhhh... yeah I've been writing as long as I can remember."

"As long as you can remember?" Abigail inquires, "how so?"

"My first memory is of a story I wrote when I was three," Shawn shrugs, "just how it's always been."

Shawn finishes the entry and puts down his marker. "Well that's done," he smiles making an excuse, "so I'm gonna go outside and get some fresh air. See ya."

"Actually mind if I tag along?" Abigail inquires, curious about Shawn, and liking the opportunity to talk to someone while enjoying the fresh air.

Shawn sweats nervously before forcing a smile and replying, forcing himself to act what he thinks is normal, "sure. Let's go."

The duo walk through the empty halls silently, Shawn resisting the urge to pull his hood over his face to protect himself from her gaze that may see beyond the veil of being normal he puts up. Yet deep within him, is a desire to get to know her better. A desire he knows it best to ignore as to prevent her from finding out his condition, but decides to follow anyways.

The two get outside the school and sit on a bench under the sheet metal overhang as Shawn smiles, "ah, fresh, cold air."

"You like the cold?" Abigail inquires.

"I love the cold," Shawn smiles, "I love how the cold air feels when I breath it in. It's calming, soothing. It makes me feel safe and secure, and best of all I can wear jackets without getting weird looks."

"So that jacket isn't because of the weather?" Abigail asks, confused.

"I always wear jackets," Shawn explains, "I feel exposed and unsafe without one. It's like a suit of mental armor I wear. It keeps me safe."

Abigail begins to shiver and pulls her arms in as she replies, "that's fair I suppose. When I feel stressed I write poems."

Like flipping a switch, Shawn's face lights up, his eyes sparkle and he speaks with enthusiasm, his spark returned, "you write too?!?"

Shocked by Shawn's sudden energy, but finding it more endearing than anything, Abigail chuckles, "sure do. Since I was around ten."

"Oh my God that's awesome!" Shawn exclaims, "for so long I've wanted someone to talk to about stuff like that! To bounce ideas off of!"

Abigail pulls her arms in closer and her teeth begin go chatter, "yeah. I can do that."

This time Shawn takes notice to Abigail's response to the cold and asks, "you cold?"

"Yeah," Abigail sighs, "left my jacket at home."

"Wanna borrow mine?" Shawn inquires.

"What about the big deal you made about it being like a suit of armor?" Abigail inquires.