as long as you care

vi. GET OUT

chapter six,

get out.

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[unedited] 6.

with uncertainty and shaky hands, i unlocked the front door to my house and stepped outside in the brisk air. the sun was beginning to rise as i opened my car door, getting comfortable in the front seat.

every morning i picked clay up. today, i don't know what will happen. i would never ditch on him, so with the good of my heart, i started my car and began to drive to his house. would he talk to me? to my face? would he admit what he said about zak — to my face?

how would i react? would i defend zak the way i wanted to? or agree with my best friend? questions flooded my head, making the somewhat long trip to clay's way shorter than it was.

i reached over to the temperature, twisting the knob to turn the cold air to warm. he was always cold in the morning.

pulling into his driveway, i honked my horn twice like i always did. the radio was a silent buzzing in the back, forming a small pit in my stomach. i couldn't decipher was i truly felt toward clay's words.

but, all my worries piled up while he opened his front door, yelling, "bye ma!" and throwing his backpack on his back. he held his sweater in his hands along with his gym bag as he rushed into my car, pulling the handle tightly. the door was locked, accidentally. clay glared at me.

my eyes widened, pressing the unlock button. he opened the door, practically falling into my car. "oops." i said tentatively, and he sighed, "it's fine."

i wondered if i should ask him more about his theory with zak. ask him how it made sense, how he pieced it together.

while i backed out of his driveway, clay looked behind him, checking for something. i gave him a confused face, when he shrugged, "thought zak would be back there."

my eyes slimmed, focusing on the road before me. whenever i drove, it didn't matter what was going on, i had to make sure i was safe. no matter what. i would never get in a car with an inexperienced driver, and when once, clay (tried to) beg me to let him drive me to school, i almost had an aneurysm.

when we arrived at a stop light, i wondered aloud, "can you tell me more about zak?"

uncertainty visible in his frail eyes, he spoke, "more?"

"about the planning thing." i recited, bringing up his call, "the thing you told me about yesterday."

"oh, that." clay looked lost, "yeah. well, how long have you known zak?"

"two.. three days.."

"right, right. are you two friends or..?" clay asked, and i nodded, "well.. i'd think so."

"okay, now, what was the first thing he said to you? the thing that you kept on telling me about?"

"uh.. he asked if he could sit with me,"

"and after that?"

"i — i think he complimented me." i said with realization, a newfound perspective on how that could be sketchy.

"right, right. don't get me wrong," he claimed, "i could be stupid, or losing my mind, but that's kind of weird, don't you think? and then you two have spoken maybe three sentences to each other — and i'd like to add, you also said you showed no sign of being interested in him — he tells you, completely off guard, to meet him somewhere."

now that he said it aloud, it does sound weird. really weird.

"but he was nice.." i dragged, and clay rolled his eyes, "and i'm sure al capone was nice to his parents, too. he's a ten, darryl. tens and zeros don't go together."

"wait.. what?" i questioned, "repeat that?"

"don't take it the wrong way, but come on. no student has ever looked or breathed your way until zak did. he's on a higher level than us, who's to say he's using his privilege for the good?"

"who's to say he isn't?" i replied instantly, "you're stereotyping, clay."

"no, that's not—"

"yes, that's exactly what it is." i fought back, "you're judging zak just because of his number. automatically, being a ten makes you a spoiled brat? shouldn't that go toward me, too? because i'm a zero that means that i'm not worth your time? your words? your energy?"

"most of the time! i'm not stereotyping if i'm telling the truth, and the odds of a ten using a number zero is pretty high! and, and the girl—"

"i thought you were different than that?" i whispered, making a sharp turn. we were almost at school. this conversation would be over soon.

"i'm just trying to protect you, darryl! you have to open your eyes a little bit more and stop being so damn oblivious to everything! just because a person compliments you, doesn't mean their words are filled with love!"

"zak has been the only person to talk to me in forever, do you think i would take that lightly?"

"exactly! you wouldn't! you've been all over him since he spoke to you! that's probably exactly what he knew would happen! who wants to talk to a zero like you?"

thank god there was a stop sign, because i don't think i could've continued driving. i took a deep breath, "like me?"

clay's face reddened, sorry washing through his veins, "i- i didn't-"

"of course you didn't mean it." i stared forward, not daring to disconnect my gaze from the road. i processed his words, "a zero like me? what's that supposed to mean?"

i knew damn well what it meant. he was using it against me.

he didn't say anything. he knew he messed up.

"zak might be dared to hang out with you, and i don't want you to be hurt when you realize that that's the truth." clay spoke, and i shook my head, "you've said enough. get out of my car."

"what?!" he exclaimed, and i turned over to finally look at him, "it isn't a far walk. put that sweater to use, right?"

clay didn't move. i furrowed my eyebrows, "did you not hear what i just said?"

"i did." he admitted, opening the door and stepping out. he closed the door, and i started driving far away.

just when i thought i had finally found a person to see the real me, to see the person behind the number and to take notice of my emotions that no one dared to care for. i guess my judgement had been wrong all along.

he listened to the stereotypes. just like they all did.

clay was right with one thing, and that was how oblivious i was. i saw right through his lies and tried to find the greatness within them.

not every person has those good intentions. and maybe i was the one struggling to accept that truth.

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