Yellow

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!! READ FIRST !! - this story is undergoing some edits; name changes, setting changes, general rewriting. this is a work in progress and something i originally made on a whim, so please be patient!! i want this story to be up to my own standards as well as my readers'!! :D

Theodore Cruz Atwood
A dull thump rippled through the carpet I sat on. "Oww-!" someone groaned.

I perked up upon hearing one of my classmates struggling somewhere behind me and turned to look.

He was trying to reach a book on a shelf taller than him, and had apparently knocked one right onto his head. He sat rubbing his head, his back facing me.

Wow, he's so small. Even for a grade three.

"Why isn't the teacher helping?" I wondered, glancing around the bustling classroom. He was helping another kid with their reading.

My mum always told me to get a grownup when I need help..

I shook my head. I'm big now! I can help him myself. He's only trying to reach a book, anyway.

A tug on my arm from behind made me jump, and I looked behind me.

It was the short boy, clutching onto my sleeve with a huge frown. He looked like he was going to cry, but I could barely see his eyes through his thick black hair.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out. Just little whimpers and squeaks.

"I was just about to help you," I giggled.

He smiled a little and walked over to the bookshelf, and I stood up to follow him.

I towered over him, easily. He was was so small.

Well, I was taller than a lot of other boys my age.

"Which book?" I asked, tapping my chin.

"Th-the red one," he sniffled, pointing up at a red book with a drawing of a beetle above the words.

'Beetles of the World,' it read.

"Wow, that's really high up," I teased. It was a bit high, but I could manage.

"Y-you can't reach..?" he asked in a shaky voice.

"Are you crying again?" I asked as I grabbed the book from the shelf.

"No.." he uttered and wiped at his eyes.

I hummed and handed him the book, walking him over to the reading mat on the floor behind us. "My mum said crying isn't a bad thing," I said and upicked up my own book. "But other kids don't know that. They might pick on you."

He nodded a little and squeezed the book in his hands.
"What's your name?" I asked.

I watched him reach up and twirl a lock of his black hair on his finger. "My name.." he quietly replied.

    I couldn't quite hear him. But I didn't bother asking.

"I'm Cruz," I replied with a smile. "Do you wanna be friends?"

He nodded and smiled a bit wider. "Yes. I-I do wanna be friends."

"Cruz!"

"Cruz?"

"Cruz, get up, mate. We're taking a test," a hazy voice said. "Get up before the teacher--"