Ignite

Chapter 16

The rest of the week passes uneventfully. I have another unhelpful therapy session with Muhammad, Jake smashes his way onto the soccer team, and Lewis Kozak keeps appearing in places I don't want him to.

Currently, one of those places is on the other side of the wall in Jake's bedroom while I sit on my bed trying to read. Whatever they're doing involves a lot of laughing and thumps against the wall that sounds like a tennis ball being thrown at it.

After ten minutes of trying to drown this out, I groan and get up, grabbing my headphones.

Peter is downstairs when I appear and he looks up from the paper.

"I'm going for a run," I say. "Won't be long."

He glances at the clock and back at me.

"Make sure you're back before dark."

I grunt in response and head out the front door, kicking into a jog as I hit the pavement. Within seconds music pounds in my ears and my feet fly across the ground; thoughts of Lewis and his stupid, green eyes and his weird Jake bromance egging me on.

I speed through kilometre after kilometre until my body is exhausted and my brain only has room for tiredness. Only then, do I turn and walk back home, sweat dripping down my forehead and the setting sun glaring in my eyes.

When I round the corner onto our street, I let out a sigh of relief, dreaming of a cold shower and a glass of cold water. But then, our front door creaks open, and a deep voice calls goodbye. Suddenly, Lewis Kozak is in front of me, coming out of our gate at the same time as I'm trying to go in.

His nose is healing, the bruises fading to a dull yellow that's almost indistinguishable against his skin, and we both come to a stop, his eyes raking up and down me.

"Big run?" he asks.

My frustration rears its head once again and I realise that the distance needed to outrun my annoyance at Lewis Kozak may be immeasurable.

"Yes."

I try to push past him, but my efforts are thwarted when he doesn't move out of the way like I expect.

"Excuse me," I say, my voice tight. "I need a shower."

Lewis's gaze is unreadable as he looks at me, but then he steps back.

"Thank you," I say, somewhat sharply.

I move past and am just thinking I've gotten away, when he speaks.

"Claude, can we talk?"

I scrunch my eyes shut and turn to face him.

"About what?"

He sucks on his teeth, glancing into the sun.

"I know I'm not your favourite person, but Jake's an alright guy. We got off on the wrong foot, but that's it. I don't want things to be weird with you if I'm gonna see you around all the time. So, I guess I'm saying sorry for what happened."

A light breeze picks up and I get a sudden whiff of him: fresh sweat, coconut and fabric softener.

"Okay."

Lewis's relief is palpable, his body relaxing from a position I hadn't realised was full of tension until it slips away.

"Okay," he echoes. "I'll leave you to your—"

"How have you and Jake become such good friends?"

My question comes quick, catching him off guard, and for a moment, he doesn't reply.

"I don't know," he says eventually. "We had detention together after the fight and got talking. It made me realise that what he'd said that day to... you know... he didn't actually mean it."

I turn to face him properly now.

"What do you mean?"

Lewis glances at the house behind me, scratching the back of his head.

"I mean I know other people who are going through stuff." He hesitates, glancing at me. "Jake started the fight. He said some shit, he hit me first. But after that he didn't even try."

His words are filled with meaning, their subtext heavy in the air, and I realise Lewis figured out what it took Jake's screams for me to realise myself: that Jake wasn't dealing. That he'd wanted someone to hurt him so he didn't have to do it himself.

The fact that Lewis was mature enough to look past this while I continued to persecute him is somewhat mortifying.

"And you've just let all of that go?"

"Yeah," he says. "I know he didn't mean what he said. But there are some things that are never okay to say, to ask. That's why I hit him."

For a moment, I hesitate. Wanting and not wanting to know in equal measure.

"What did he say?"

Lewis looks away into the sun, biting his lip. And I know it's bad. Very bad.

"You know I'm Indigenous Australian, right?"

For a moment, I frown at him, but then the seriousness in his voice translates into meaning, the implication hitting full force.

Lewis is watching me carefully, so he see's me understand. He sees my mouth drops open, and my eyes widen in horror, and he shifts, clearing his throat.

"Anyway, what's done is done. I want to move past it. But I know what it's like to have to defend someone you love, and I never wanted to put another person in that position. So, I'm sorry I did that to you. Really, I am."

His eyes are a deep green in the sunset, open and honest, and I look away, unable to hold them.

"You don't need to apologise," I say quietly.

He hovers for a moment, unsure, but then he nods.

"Okay. Well, I'll see you around I guess."

And then he turns and walks off, leaving me watching his back as he goes.

...

Later that night, I go to Jake's room, leaning against his doorframe. He looks up from his phone, watching me. His face is cast half in shadows, the light from his bedside lamp landing inconsistent and chaotic.

"I talked to Lewis today about what you said to start that fight," I say.

Jake holds my gaze for a moment, but then his eyes drop away, his cheeks flushing.

"You're a real piece of shit sometimes, Jake, you know that?" I snap.

He fiddles with the corner of his sheets, but there's something in the slump of his shoulders that makes my chest tighten.

"Don't worry, Claude," he says, his voice heavy. "I know." 

...

What do you think of Lewis? Do you think Claude should forgive him? 🤔

Next chapter out in a week!

- Skylar xx