You Have My Attention

Seventeen

« Winter's POV »

We sometimes think we want to disappear, but really all we want is to be found.

Kason is a great example, I think, of this. He's so closed. He's so angry. He hates everyone. People call him an asshole. But I can't bring myself to think that way deep down inside these things are true. Sure, he's a jerk, but he only acts like one to cover his weaknesses. It's a self-defense mechanism.

In my eyes, he will one day be punished by his anger instead of for it. I feel sorry for him. His own emotions will inevitably cause him to erupt and to fail in life unless he talks to someone. Obviously he doesn't open up to me much. I'm not too trustworthy in his eyes. But we got a step closer.

I'd feel bad if I just up and left knowing he has depression and no one else here for him. He doesn't need a diagnosis for someone to see that he's deep and dark in the world of mental illness. I've been there. What kind of person would I be if I left him alone, knowing exactly what he's going through?

I glance at his back. We're walking in a park now, and some monstrous thunderclouds are incoming. Apparently Kason isn't bothered at all though, because we just keep walking along the sidewalk with a few others passing by too.

I have chills running up and down my arms, despite wearing Sam's coat. I almost want to take it off, because for some reason I have an unknown source vibing some weird pride. But I think with my brain and decide against it, not wanting to freeze to death.

Everything that triggers Kason seems to connect to this girl. And I won't lie: there's a jealousy in my gut. I don't even know why. I hardly know this guy. And he hates me. We had sex once, but who cares? I shouldn't have any emotional attachments because of it.

Sex is basically just math anyway. You add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs, and pray that you don't multiply. Nothing more. Well, I guess you get that feeling of someone admiring you. That part is nice.

With Vincent, I felt like some sort of...slut, I guess. I didn't feel appreciated. I felt like I was dirty and only being used for my body. In retrospect, it's clear that I was just some form of a stress-relieving machine for Vince whenever he wanted it. There was no love coming from either of us.

With Kason on the other hand, I could feel the attraction in my stomach. I had butterflies. I enjoyed it. I made him enjoy it. I didn't feel like I wanted to throw up like I had with my abusive ex. There wasn't any love, but there was clear lust and need for the other person. For me, that was completely altering.

I'm brought out of my thoughts when Kason gestures for me to sit on a park bench with him. I do so, looking out at the green grass and cloudy skies. A few kids are playing frisbee just in front of us.

I raise a brow when Kason pulls a Snickers out of his pocket, opening it up and chewing on it. He's obsessed with those things. I would wonder how he's so fit and acne-free, but then I remember he's a fighter, and he works out a lot. Plus he drinks a whole bunch of water.

"You really like Snickers bars," I comment nonchalantly, watching the frisbee go far, soaring in the slight wind, and landing in the grass — just barely out of the other kid's grasp.

"Yeah," he says. "And?"

I shrug. "Just pointing it out. You eat them all the time. It's a wonder you're not diabetic."

Kason rolls his eyes, I see, from my peripheral vision and takes another bite, watching a couple strolling along the sidewalk hand in hand. There's a faintness in his eyes when he notices their hands linked together, and then he moves his gaze away as if he could be burned by the sight.