eighteenth - newtmas au

2 - Thick Sweaters and Fake Smiles

Thomas was in his mum's car on the way home from his first day at the Hobo's School. That wasn't what it was actually called, but that's what all the kids at Thomas' school called it, and it sort of stuck. Teresa was in the back seat, chatting easily with Thomas' mum about how the day was. Thomas would have joined in but he wasn't really sure how he felt about the day, he was just confused. Mostly about Newt. He didn't know whether being rude and sarcastic was his normal mood, or if the nice and gentle side that Newt had shown at the end of the day was the normal him.

'Thomas.' Teresa stated bluntly.

'Hm?'

'I asked you if you liked the kids there?' His mum said, chuckling a little because Thomas hadn't been paying attention.

'Oh, um, they were nice, I guess?' Thomas answered, making it sound like a question.

Teresa gasped suddenly. 'Oh, Thomas, tell your mum about Newt!'

'Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, so there was this kid there, and when we first walked in he was really rude, and I mean really rude. He talked to us like we were stuck-up scum or something, and then he sat down and clenched his fists and just stared off for four hours. Four hours! And he didn't say a single word to us. After the whole four hours he sat doing nothing, he moved for the first time and just closed his eyes like he was in pain, he must've really hated us talking. Then, suddenly, this little girl ran in the room and Newt was suddenly acting like a freaking marshmallow and started braiding her hair! He's such a jerk.' Thomas huffed as he finished the last sentence. Teresa sort of gaped at him, and Thomas only realised then what a detailed summary of Newt's day he had given. He ignored what that might mean and turned to his mum, who had her lips pursed.

'Okay.' she said, processing all the things her son had just said. Thomas knew that his mum was a debater in a high school, and she was some sort of legend, so naturally, she always managed to meet Thomas' statements with an argument.

'I have a few things to say to that,' Thomas rolled his eyes. It was a classic 'I think you're wrong Thomas' starter statement.

'To be fair, they don't live under a rock. They probably know all of the things that you kids say about their school, and I know for a fact that you went in there believing most of the rumours. This boy, Newt, was it? Probably just wants to protect his friends from people who believe in the rumours. Imagine how you would feel if a bunch of people you know hated Minho and Teresa came in and started attacking them, physically and verbally. It's a sort of similar case for him, you could say. It's not their fault their parents are dead, but people still treat them poorly. How he treated the little girl is probably how he normally treats his friends, like family. Because that's probably what they are to each other, considering most of them don't have a real family. Also...' his mum trailed off. 'Wait, nevermind.' Thomas' mum finished hesitantly, but Thomas didn't notice, he was too busy taking in all of the points his mum had just thrown at him.

Now Thomas felt like the jerk.

***

Newt felt like such a jerk.

He stood over the sink to the bathroom attached to the room that he shared with a few other boys. It was way past midnight. But Newt was tossing and turning for hours before he finally got up. When he did, his sheets were soaked with sweat, and so were his pyjamas. He grabbed a fresh pair and had a scolding shower. He'd tried to wash away the guilt, tried so hard to clean away everything wrong with him, but he still felt as dirty and disgusting as always. Even though he'd only stepped out of the steamy shower five minutes ago, his pyjamas were already damp because of how much he was sweating. He hadn't gotten his hair wet in the shower, but his hairline had droplets running around the rim.