17 again.

4

"Don't be ashamed, I'm not judging you
But we need to find a way to get you through
You should know I empathise
You gotta rebel and break the rules sometimes
But you gotta pick your fights"

Cole

Monday came around like it's aught to do and sure enough, I found myself plopped in front of Mr. Green's desk. I wasn't in trouble. Yet. I just had to see him every day, ever since the flagpole incident a few weeks ago.

"Hello, Cole." Mr. Green greeted as I slid into my usual seat, keeping my legs of the desk this time. "You seem glum today. Trouble at home?"

"No. My parents are finally getting divorced so I'll get some peace and quiet soon." I admitted. "It's Fin."

"Fin? Are the two of you having an argument?" He inquired, dropping a stack of files on his desk.

I shrugged. "Sort of."

"The two of you... How would you describe your relationship?"

Sexually frustrating. "Good. We're good."

"The two of you are just friends right?"

What the hell did he mean by that? "Yes."

"Okay." He picked up the folders again, seemingly moving on to the next topic. "You need to start working on your grades. Luckily you're a smart kid so even though you've been slacking off you're only failing half your classes." Lucky me.

"Thankfully, your teachers have agreed to let you take some extra credit work. Meet them after school tomorrow for the work. Don't screw it up you won't get a third chance." He set the file down again, maybe for the last time, and peered up at me. "Now Cole, your grades aren't the only reason you're here. Your behavior has taken a 180 and I want to know why. It couldn't have come from nowhere."

"Why does there need to be a reason? Maybe I'm just another dumb, impulsive teenager." I remarked, not meeting his eyes.

He scoffed, scoffed, like some old British aristocrat. "I'm frankly insulted you'd think I'd believe that for a second."

"Fine. What do you think is wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you. It's perfectly natural. Besides, I'm not sure yet, it's just a theory."

"What theory?" What was he trying to imply?

"You'll find out soon enough. Probably." He refused to answer then went on to ask. "Now Cole, tell me about your father."

🎵🎸🎵

I left Mr. Green's room after a long round of questioning but after the first few questions, it didn't feel like an interrogation anymore so I'd relaxed. It was actually kind of nice to talk about my problems with someone else. I know I could talk to Fin about (almost) anything if I wanted and he would listen. But I didn't, because I didn't want him to waste his time worrying about me. I mentioned that to Mr. Green and he told me that sometimes people go for therapy so they won't be judged by the people they care about. Makes sense I guess.

I passed by the auditorium, ignoring the sound of music and laughter. The music club always met here every Monday and Friday to sing and play their hearts out. I kind of missed that. Maybe I should rejoin them? Mr. Green suggested it, once I've gotten my grades back on track of course. But that would mean picking up my guitar again. No thank you.

As I slid into the driver's seat I heard someone run towards me and call out my name. My heart skipped a beat at their voice. It's fucking Fin again, who else? I don't know whether to be happy or not. I sighed, looking up at him as he ran across the school parking lot, arms flailing about. He almost tripped several times. He kind of looked adorable. Happy, I'm definitely happy. Damnit.

"Thanks for waiting." He managed to wheeze out. You'd think being on the swim team would make him more fit but no. "I want to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pestered you." He began once he caught his breath then went on. "I was just worried. I want you to know that whatever happened, whenever you want to talk about it, I'm all ears." He peered up at me, big blue eyes wide. He was covered in freckles from head to toe, there were more of them on him than stars in the night sky. Damn him for being so hot.

"Don't be sorry. I'm sorry I was acting like an ass. You were just doing what friends do. I shouldn't have yelled at you." I sighed. I didn't deserve an apology, he didn't do anything wrong. I was just lashing out for no reason. I'd gotten over it before he even left. "Want a ride?" He could have any kind of ride he wanted from me. 

"Sure. Thanks." He grinned and for a second I forgot all my troubles. Then he interrupted it by walking over to the passager's seat and sliding into the car. Even after that I was still dazed, so it took me a while to close the door and start driving.

I really did have it bad.

🎵🎸🎵

I could feel it staring at me with a giant hollow eye in the middle of its body, covered in thin brassy strings. Its long neck was covered in little nubs from which the strings hung wound tightly around them. Carved into its oaken boy were the letters 'C.W'. I stared down at it, my hands hovering over the strings. They looked so deceptively harmless. Like a trap. Was it going to fall for it again?

Nope. I shook my head and picked up the guitar, placing it gently back into the corner of my room. Definitely not ready yet, but at least I'd managed to hold it. That was definitely an improvement.