Nao Summers hates drama, but life becomes full of it when he's paired with the school delinquent on a film project. He's also in dire need of a way to break up with his girlfriend who wants to have lots of sex, while Nao would prefer to die. To crow...
My run up until then had been acceptable. I was eighteen, failing media ethics, and had accomplished nothing with my life. There wasn't much to do except embrace that my average existence was coming to an abrupt and untimely end. On a Wednesday, as it happened.
A cold wind swept across the rooftop, ruffling the individuals that inhabited it. An iron door separated me from the scene, but a wistful breeze seeped through the crack in the door, tickling my face and lifting my bangs away from my eyes. Agitation boiled in my gut, threatening to spill out onto the concrete floor beneath my feet.
It really did feel like my life was ending. Eighteen years of existence on this sorry earth, and stepping onto that rooftop might just end it. I watched as the tall figure outside cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. At his feet laid a human-shaped lump, an unfortunate victim of this guy's temperament.
What in the world was I doing here? The stairway behind me led back to my classroom on the 4th floor, and escaping seemed a tempting option right now. Instead, I was perched by the door that ended on the rooftop, watching a fist fight take place in front of my very eyes.
I dropped into a crouch and ruffled my hair, which was a natural bird's nest despite my best efforts. Messy — that summed up my situation. It was a big, unearthly mess. I had picked the worst time to get sick with the flu, and now I had to suffer the consequences. It was like the universe had conspired to upend my life and throw everything out of balance. I had completely forgotten that this week marked the beginning of the December High project season.
Every winter my school hosted the December Festival, an event that mixed performance arts, sports, and festival activities, all of it orchestrated by the students. We were divided into groups or pairs to deal with the required tasks. The goal of the festival was to "celebrate the school's history," but that mattered little to me now. I'd volunteered for the film project, unknowingly sealing my fate.
Seeing as I'd come down with the flu, courtesy of my brother and his damn germs, I had no say in who my partner would be. My class had voted on my behalf - taking full advantage of my absence - and stuck me with the guy no one else wanted to be with. It was the perfect solution for everyone except my sorry ass. It's how I got paired up with him.
The punch exploded against the second victim's skull, forcing me back to the present. Peeking through the crack, I watched as the raven-haired boy packed another punch into his victim's gut. The guy groaned and sank to the ground, barely holding himself upright.
Him. That guy. Axel. His black hair fell into his face as he considered the guy in front of him.
Axel was an infamous character not only at December High, but in the entire school district. His reputation was a result of years of rumors and incidents, some of them confirmed, others more far-fetched. He was tall, perpetually bruised, and wore a scowl at all times. He was also known for getting into fist fights for fun, making a sport of leaving his opponents in pools of blood when he was finished.
I'd never known how true the rumors were until I showed up on the rooftop myself, catching him mid-action. Axel rarely showed up to school, and when he did it wasn't to attend class, but rather to hang out on the rooftop. In short, he was a dangerous individual that I avoided at all costs.
He was also the guy I had to cooperate with for the next four months.
Yep. My life was over.
Gathering the last remains of my courage, I straightened. The room was dark except for the stream of light that came through the door, and the damp, cold air was stifling. A faint gust of wind came through the doorstep, almost whisking away the smell of anticipation and fear. I realized I would have to head out there at some point. I was up here for a reason. The problem was, how did you politely interrupt a fist fight? Was such a thing even possible?
While mulling that over, I put my hand on the knob and prepared myself to turn it. However, as my fingers connected with the cold iron, a soft sound made me freeze. It was as if someone had pressed pause on the horror movie I was currently living. All was silent again. I knew I had heard something, but I wasn't brave enough to peek out at the rooftop.
There was a thud, then a muffled groan, and then someone spat an insult so foul my mom would disown me if she caught me copying it.
"Fuckin' piece of —"
Oh no. Another loud thud echoed, and I retracted my hand as if burnt. I changed my mind. That sounded like trouble. Sounded like something I absolutely should not be involved in. As a matter of fact, the best thing would probably be to come back later. Thinking about it now, interrupting a fist fight really was rather rude. Axel was a busy guy, after all. Wouldn't want me barging in and ruining one of his...
I had already backtracked several paces when the door burst open, flashing a blinding light into my face. I was momentarily frozen in my tracks, and flailed in confusion until I backed into something and slid to my ass. A thousand thoughts raced through my brain, but the most pronounced one was just: oh no.
Several heartbeats later, a dark, bruised up individual advanced through the door. My eyes were still adjusting to the sudden light, but I could see the general shape of two boys lying on the rooftop behind him. One of them was moaning, an opponent finally downed and defeated, the other was out cold. The air smelled of blood and meaningless violence.
I swallowed nervously.
A drop of blood slid down the guy's face, across his throat, dipping at last into his collarbone. He loomed over me like a mountain; a broad and ominous silhouette. His breath was ragged, his brown skin damp with sweat, and his hair was as black as the night sky. I absentmindedly noted that his shirt was ripped and revealing far more than it ought to.
Despite all that, the one thing I couldn't take my eyes off was his gaze. I was frozen in place, back firmly pressed against the railing, and staring directly into a pair of dead, uncaring eyes. I saw ruthlessness, violence, and something so vicious it prompted me to look away. It was like facing your worst nightmare, only it had morphed and turned into something worse, something alive.
At last, I opened my mouth, gaping like a fish on land. My tongue felt numb as I licked my lips.
"So we're project partners, huh?"
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A/N:
Hello! Thank you so much for checking out December Boys! This is my first WP story and a continuous work in progress. I appreciate any constructive feedback you may have, and your votes and commentary bring a lot of light into my life.
