"Stupid supid stupid-" I hissed to myself. I lifted my fist, hesitate, and finally reached out and knocking the door. A couple soft taps that made me wonder if he could hear them through the thick wood and the loud music that boomed through the hallway. I guessed he didn't since for the next minute when I hold my breath nothing happen. That or he was ignoring me. "Shit."
I hadn't seen him since the teacher brought both guys to the principal's and ordered for Noel and me to be taken to the nursery. Anxiety had filled my chest ever since I snapped out my shocked state, but by then neither Brett nor Connor were there for me to properly thank their help.
I couldn't get the scene out my head.
Brett had stepped in for me.
He was ready to screw his spot on the main team for me.
But Connor appeared out of the blue saving him and helping me as well.
It all was unexpected and overwhelming.
Noel and Connor'd been suspended for three days for fighting while Brett got out of it with a slap on the wrist, but I hadn't seen any of them ever since they parted us this afternoon. And I felt... weird.
I felt awful they get punished on my behalf, but also grateful towards them. I tried calling but none took their phone so I stick to Norah after our last period and here I was, trying to get to Connor in hopes he'll forgive me. Brett's silence also got me on my nerves, but I needed to take care of it one at a time.
Norah stepped out her room on the other side of the hallway, mouthing me 'Good luck' with a thumbs up before sprinting down the stairs to her Japanese course -to which she was already late. I heard the thud of the front door seconds later. Now there was just me and Connor.
Swallowing the hard lump in my throat, I knocked again, more determined and earned me a harsh: "Go away."
Nerves ate my stomach from inside. He really didn't want to be bothered. He must hate me now. I only brought him burdens. Maybe I should wait...
No. The guy did you a huge favor. Now, you're gonna woman up and thank him like the mature girl you are.
Dragging in another shaky breath I knocked again, harder this time. My stomach clenched at the curse and steps I heard form inside. A second later the door burst open harshly and he barked: "What?" his annoyed scowl deepening in surprised when he took in my presence.
I stood there, wide eyed like a deer caught by the lights and with my pulse raging. To my dismay, everything I had prepared to say vanished from my mind and left me tongue-tied at his cold receiving. I blushed under his intense stare, waiting for me to explain as a strong thrill of insecurity shook through me.
Yeah, this was a bad idea... He clearly didn't want company. I should-
But gaze fell an in the moment I spotted on his scratched knuckles everything softened in me. He punched Noel. He defended me. And got suspended because of it. The hesitation disappeared in gratitude and warmth. Before knowing what I was doing I'd stepped forward, my arms had snaked around his chest and I was snuggling closer.
Connor tensed all over, flabbergasted, clearly not having expected me to do that. He stood there, rigid for some seconds, stiff as ever and only after the first shocked seconds he patted my back. "There, there." I supposed it was meant to be reassuring, but it came out awkward and I couldn't help an ashamed chuckled that ended in a chocked sniffle. Guess we both were really clueless in this situation.
A blush of embarrassment burned my skin, aggressively as a rebel tear dared to escape, but I only held him tighter, afraid he might push me away. For some reason, Connor made me feel safe despites being the coldest and more detached person I'd ever met. Surprisingly, he didn't. Nor hugged me back either, but in that moment I really needed that hold -even if it was just a one-side hug. He allowed me to let it out and only after I calmed enough, I took in what was I doing. Realization of what a fool out of myself I was making sink deep in me and my guts twisted.
Amazing, Alyson. So smooth.
I shyly pulled away, clearing my throat. "I'm sorry. I- Damn." I let out another ashamed laugh wiping under my eyes and unable to hold his gaze after such a display of disarray. "I didn't mean to be this mess. I just..." I hated how my voice faltered as if the whole thing came back to me at once and the emotions strangled me at once. I forced in a deep, shaky breath before summarizing: "I'm sorry."
Connor shrugged, apparently unbothered by my little outburst, but his eyes weren't that cold. He even baffled me further when he moved to the side. He was inviting me in, wasn't he? Since he wasn't much of a man of words I usually struggled to comprehend him, but this sign was pretty clear. Sending him a wavery smile I took a couple steps in.
The music was ten times louder in here, its beat almost making my bones tremble. A quick glance around and I took in a few details I didn't get to notice in the darkness of the weekend. Such as the darkness of most of his belongings, how his white walls were all scratched and covered in letters; words and sentences superimposed, the meaning of which wasn't exactly the happy-flower-kind. But opposed to the overlaborated work on the walls, his furniture like a desk and shelves were practically empty. Only a few belongings occupied it: a computer, a couple books... nothing exactly revealing.
"T-they say you got suspended." I muttered peeling my gaze from the scrutiny and towards his nonchalant figure.
Not bothering with more answer than a pointed look, Connor closed the door again and moved to sit on his bed, completely unfazed by my presence there. He lowered the volume of the music with a control and retook the disregarded skateboard from the floor, laid it upside-down on his lap and only then I noticed the tools splashed over the duvet.
"Oh, I-I didn't mean to disturb you if you're busy." I stuttered, insecure again, feeling really exposed there standing in his room even tho Connor wasn't looking at me anymore, working on the board. As his hands move to unroll one of the wheels his bruised knuckles caught my attention again and I felt my stomach churn. "I'll be real quick. I j-just wanted to say I'm so sorry you got suspended." he sent me a brief 'are you kidding' look and go back to fiddle with the wheel with a shrug, showing he wasn't bothered by it. I still felt this unease feeling in my stomach, tho. Gulping, I proceeded: "And also, thanks. For stepping in, for defending me and... well. Thank you."
"Does it hurt?" his words startled me since he didn't even raise his gaze, focused on his work. My hand instinctively went to the band-aid that now decorate my forehead, but lowered it as soon as I realized what I was doing.
"It stings." I confessed in a low voice and immediately cleared my throat to get rid of the knot in there. "B-but I'm sure I wasn't the worst injured there."
"I hope."
I ignored the malice in his tone, glancing back at his hand. "What about you? Doesn't that hurt?"
Then Connor did rise his gaze to meet mine, a hint of surprise in his orbs. With a small frown, he glanced down at his bruised knuckles, opening and closing his fist as if testing it and I could tell that from the looks of it that it did hurt. But after a moment of contemplation, he shrugged and mimicked: "It stings."
I nodded. Guess we both were playing it down, then. Okay.
I glance around, very self conscious in the middle of his room as he went back to his business without another retort. It was almost as if he didn't want me there, but at the same time, he'd invite me in and hadn't kicked me out yet so... I inwardly sighed.
Connor was such a complicated person. He was cold, and distant and it looked like he couldn't give a shit about anything; but then he went and did something random that prove it wrong. It was very hard to read him and even harder to anticipate him.
Struggling no to drown in his suffocating presence, I allowed my eyes to roam around until they fell on the papers over his desk and my eyes widened when I recognized them. "Mayhem?" I carefully slid the small poster an inch closer to see it better without feeling confident enough to mess too much with the order ruling in there. "Slayer... they're bands right?" From the corner of my eye I caught him nodding absentmidly, not even looking up from his work and I bit my lip. "I'd never listen to them."
"Not surprised." I heard him mumbled and my heart picked up, because as cold as his voice was, I knew this was his version of taunting.
I turned from the posters to him, only to find his complete apathetic demeanor, yet I could easily tell he was actually in a good mood. How? On the tiny details I'd been learning from him. I was starting to read him, and I felt proud of such an achievement. As well as managing to see one of the few moments where he wasn't all hateful.
I gripped on the hem of the table behind me for stability as my heart picked up at for some reason. "Are you gonna hang them?" I wondered softly referring to the posters while eying the plain walls of the room, but he shook his head. "No?" I voiced, confused, and glanced the posters once more over my shoulder. "Then why have them at all?"
"I liked them, I got them." was his logic. "They would only get messed once hanged."
"Oh." I was still confused. "And what will you do with them?"
He at last looked up to meet my gaze, tilting his head as he eyed me for a long moment, making a weird, tinkling feeling flow under my skin; before he lowered it again and I could swear the corner of his mouth ticked in that faint version of a smile of his. Probably because of my aggressive, stupid blush.
"Locker."
"L-locker?" I repeated in disbelief and followed the direction of his chin and I hasped when I saw there was indeed a locker by his wardrobe, a little wider than the ones from Clayton High and the metal was green and wasted, old. It took me a moment to regain my voice. "Why... why on earth do you have a locker? Where did you even get it from?"
He lifted one shoulder. "My old school."
I giggled, baffledment sinking in me as I carefully close the distance between me and the locker. I noticed a few stickers and doddles over its surface. "Let me guess: you like it, you took it."
"Pretty much."
I smiled at the craziness of it all, tracing the anarchy symbol at the top of it, and then the aggressive sentence under it. It suits him. I looked over at him, unsure. "So, uh, can I open it?" I wondered unsure, but my anxiety of pushing too much erased as he nodded and I did just that.
Wow.
There were dozens of posters like the couple on his desk, all piled up, laminated and in perfect state. From the size, they looked like those that came with magazines. Most of them were of bands I didn't know. All dark, with long hairs, characteristics make up... But there were also aesthetic pictures: of landscapes, cars, graffiti, there was a flower too. I couldn't stop the smile, impressed by it and way more pleased than I anticipated.
"This is so cool." I passed them carefully, not wanting to mess them and touching only the corners so I won't leave my fingerprints all over it. I learn to manipulate this kind of stuff in the Studio, and also that stirred my fascination for photography. "It's like a collection?" He shrugged, but for the way he'd protected it, I was sure it meant more to him than what he was letting on. I turned back to the pile of images. "It's amazing. Like capturing a huge tone of moments and kept it in a locker." I laughed at the touch it added. "Like a summary of stuff you like, or find pretty or touching or whatever it is that makes you keep it."
"Aren't you poetic?" for the first time ever Connor's voice wavered at the end. Barely a hint that would have passed unadvertised by anyone but by now I was getting used to his ways. Something I couldn't quite pinpoint and that was gone in a second as he cleared his throat, but it was too late. I'd heard it and smiled a little. "They're just pics." Connor deadpanned all of the sudden, snapping me from that little bubble.
"I'm a photographer, you know?" my eyes widened and I felt the blush climbing up my neck as his eyes met mine, self-consciousness choking me from inside. "I-I mean, I worked as a Studio, and know a thing or two..." I wanted to mentally facepalm myself at how stupid I sounded but the corner of his lips twisted ever so slightly and kept calmly fixing the board. And I snapped my attention back to the pile of posters. " They're never just pics."
"Whatever."
"Mhm, you don't have to do that, you know?" I shifted so I was facing him. Kinda unsure of how much could I talk before he'd had enough. Especially after how he'd reacted the last time I try to talk with him in this very house. And today he'd endure me more than then. But seeing he'd been the one who brought it up I decided to take the chance. "If it's important enough for you to keep them you shouldn't belittle it. Why did you start saving them?"
"Again, I like them, I got them."
I waited, but he didn't specify anymore and I frowned.
"That's all? Come on, there gotta be something else. One just don't start collecting random stuff out of the blue. Which was the first? the one that triggered it? Do you buy them or are one of those that ripped them from posterboards? How long you've been storing them? And why a locker? Is it poetic too?"
His head slowly turned to me and I felt my cheeks burning at his amused eyes, even though his face still blank of any emotion. Like I'd said, I'd been getting familiar with the slightly gestures of his face. He didn't have to do a lot to show a feeling, and now I was pretty sure he was internally laughing at my explosion of questions.
"Shut up." I mumbled ashamed and his raising brow said 'I ain't saying anything'. Which was true. I rolled my eyes and waved it off. "So?"
"That's a huge amount of questions." was his answer and I sighed.
"Why did it start?" I wondered, focusing on one question and telling myself it was saver going for general stuff and try to catch as much info as I could gather from this mysterious subject that was Connor Mendley. Yet he lifted one careless shoulder. "What is it especial enough to keep so many of them if they are 'just pics?'"
"I literally just told you." Connor let out a long breath, as if inwardly asking for patience to deal with my questioning, but again, he didn't bring out his murderous ways yet so it was a good sign. I would take it as one. "There's no grand story behind it. I like them, I store them."
"Just like that?"
He snorted. "I don't tend to overthink and made stuff complicated for no reason."
I could tell by the contend hint in his tone what he wasn't saying: like you. I was the queen of overthinking and second-guessing. I was always complicating things because I always seemed to expect the worst from everyone. And I also could tell he was getting fed up with me and my questions and my chest constricted.
"I-I'm sorry. I just wanted to get to know you better." I spoke without thinking and his baffled gaze met mine and I felt my cheeks burning. Oh damn, that was way too blunt. Lowering my gaze to my frantic fiddling fingers I rushed: "As f-friends I mean. You been here for months now and it felt like it's a-always me doing the talking when I know nothing from you..." Because he doesn't want you to, stupid. I gulped, chocking on embarrassment I realized how desperate and dumb I sounded. I should learn how to shut my mouth from time to time. "Or... I don't know. It's stupid. Forget it."
I came and thanked him, maybe I should just go...
"You want to get to know me?" he surprised me by asking, a hint of confusion in his tone. So low it could easily go unnoticed. My eyes raised again to meet his. There was no mock, no taunting, just plain disbelief.
"Mh, yes... Since I literally know nothing and we're friends..."
"Friends." he repeated the word, almost as if tasting and I grew more anxious.
"Yeah, I-I mean. We kinda are, aren't we?" Maybe I rushed things? Maybe he got protective because I was his sister's friend? But the corner of his lip twisted and I felt myself relaxing. "But if you don't want to, it's fine too. I understand."
His brow perked as if saying 'really?' but he leaned back, taking another moment to contemplate it before asking: "You understand?"
I nodded nervously, disappointment twisting my guts like poison and my lips pouted. I knew I wasn't the most charismatic girl, not the funniest or nicest. Or mysterious, like him. In fact, despites this recently discovered like for photography, we literally got nothing in common. Not even movies, as it was proved the past weekend. Connor was being nice and protective when he saw Noel messing with me for unteempt time.
"Alyson." my heart skipped a beat as it had the few times he'd uttered my name. It was lame how much power one name had over me. I gave him a confused look. "Stop."
"S-stop what?"
And melted a little with the miserly half grin he formed fleetingly. "Making everything difficult."
"Oh," I giggled awkwardly tucking my hair behind my ear, more happy about that expression than I would allow myself to believe. "Sorry."
He shook his head, but I couldn't tell if it was in a 'don't-mention-it' manner or in an 'I'm-gonna-regret-this' manner. "Done." he dropped the board and stood, testing it with one foot before nodding to himself and easily slipping on the leather jacket. "You're coming?"
He was going to skate. And he was inviting me to come with. Because we were friends. A full grin stretched my lips at the gesture.
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QUESTION: Will they be able to be friends?
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