"Where have you been?" was the first thing Ave's mom asked when he arrived home.
"School," Ave replied, still very much traumatised from the events that had happened merely two hours ago, though his face showed off his best fake confusion.
"The school already called me," she explained. "They said you skipped all your classes." Ave looked at his mother, who was glaring him down with her brown hair in a messy ponytail. Her large body was barely fitted into the small armchair, her hand resting near a glass of water. "Why didn't you take your bag to school or anything?"
"I didn't need it, okay?" Ave retorted. His mom held up her hands and sighed.
"I'm not...attacking you right now. I just want to know where you were."
"I was just at a friend's house." She raised an eyebrow.
"What friend?" Ave shrugged.
"He's just a friend. I met him today."
"What, at school?" He glared at her.
"...Yes." She pinched the bridge of her nose. As tired as Ave was, he knew he had to sit and listen to whatever his mom had to say. And as unfair as he thought it was, he didn't see what point his mom was trying to make, however reasonable she was being.
"What's his name?" she asked after a few moments. Ave rolled his eyes, "Don't roll your eyes at me, Ave."
"Why does it matter, though?"
"Was it the fighting ones?"
"No."
"Then who?"
"Just a guy, Mom, Jesus Christ, just...fuckin' leave it." Ave attempted to have the last word and simply walk away, but his mom, of course, wasn't having it.
"Hey- Hey!" she scolded. "Get over here." Ave rolled his eyes again, something his mom decided to ignore for now. "Why'd you skip school today?"
"The teacher just kicked me out, okay?" Ave finally admitted, throwing his arms in the air. "So I just- I skipped!"
"Hey," she said, pointing a finger. "Calm yourself. Sit down." Ave did as he was told, rolling his eyes a third time. "I know your friends are fighting. You know I really... I don't like them, but... Ave, I don't know what you're doing, I just don't want you to start becoming this...dipshit, who just skips school and does whatever with some guy I've never heard of. Trust me, I know."
"Well, I don't want to talk about it, so...," Ave pushed out, and as much as his mom's words sounded true, nothing could distract him from what happened at Liam's house. And he'd never go so far as to tell his mom what happened.
She sighed and shook her head.
"Alright," she said, standing, and though Ave could clearly see she was upset at his lack of communication, he had no comment to make. "Fine, you go...do whatever you want. Just don't expect me to come help you." Ave, one last time, rolled his eyes and walked to his room.
"Whatever, Mom," he mumbled, going to his room and shutting the door, turning on his TV and letting cartoons dull his brain fast and quick enough to forget the events that had left him so...confused.
Eventually, night came and his brain had been shut off for nearly six hours. He hadn't moved from underneath the covers, watching reruns of whatever cartoon he could find. He honestly still couldn't find the motivation to do anything anymore.
Whatever had happened to him had actually fucked him up more than he thought possible. And most of all, he hated that he couldn't quite pinpoint the reason why. He kissed Liam, he smoked weed, he cut class, he...didn't know what was happening to him.
The next morning punched him in the face. He didn't know when he fell asleep, but he woke up and his TV was still on, Simpsons playing on a high note. The sun cascaded through the windows, seemingly aiming to just blind him. As he blinked, his eyes glanced over to his clock, which clearly read past the time he was supposed to be at school. But what was the point of getting up? Was he just going to skip again? Get kicked out, even?
However, his mom interrupted his thoughts.
"Are you up?" she asked, rapping her knuckle on the door. He rolled his eyes. "Ave?"
"Yes?" he replied, irritated. He didn't plan on getting out of bed, however.
"Are you going to school or what?" she asked. Without a thought, Ave responded.
"Why should I?" he retorted harshly, going back to retreat under his blankets, letting the cartoon drown out all noise as best it could.
"Because I fucking said so," she told him, now opening the door.
"Oh, because you said so," he muttered, not loud enough for her to hear clearly.
"Just...get up," she sighed, walking away. Ave could practically feel her disappointment cut into him, and reluctantly, he pulled himself out of bed. If there was one thing he couldn't ever get past, it was that. Of course, he still wasn't going to bring anything to school with him but himself. That much she could just deal with him doing, no matter how angry she would be.
He left without a goodbye at nearly noon, past when lunch had started, but not quite before it had ended. He thanked God he lived close enough for a five minute walk away. At least he wouldn't have to be in class right away.
However, using the back entrance to the school, he ran into a large problem. The problem being that Liam was waiting. With a guitar. And when his eyes fell onto Ave, he jumped from where he stood and started walking beside him.
"Ave, hey," he greeted, as if he did this every day. As if Ave wasn't purposefully avoiding his gaze. "I was wondering if you were gonna come to school today, I... I brought my guitar, I wanted t'show you somethin'..." But as Ave continued walking, Liam's voice trailed off and he stopped. Ave paid no attention to the eyes of his peers, nor did he pay attention to Liam's. He especially didn't pay attention to the pain in his chest or the tears in his eyes or the fact that he couldn't fucking do it.
"Ave...," someone's voice said, but Ave shot the person a glare and their voice stopped. Everything stopped for him. The doors and the clouds and the world.
In fact, everything went black.
He couldn't tell why, but then he found that he had stopped moving, his legs were buckled underneath his body and his head was hung towards the ground. Tears escaped his eyes viciously, but he made no noise. In fact, he did nothing after thirty mere seconds. And though hands were grasped at his shoulders, shaking him, he just...couldn't feel it. He couldn't feel anything. After so long of not feeling, and then suddenly feeling a wave of indescribable emotion, somehow, it just broke him.
And it was just...unfair.
Everything in his life was just unfair. Why did he get the fucking bullshit? What did he do? What?
What did he do to deserve this?
What did I do to deserve any of this?
That was all he could think. The school bell rang. He wasn't moving, at least, not on his own. He was thrown into a seat, he was given a box of tissues. He could hear voices talking and phones ringing and he just couldn't feel anything. He just let the tears coat his cheeks, ignoring the tissues, ignoring the voices, only being able to focus on the sole facts of his life.
And it seemed like nothing had changed still.
He was still royally fucked up.
