[text to: gazelle boy] it’s not fair that I should have to leave my friends because this one asshole
[text to: gazelle boy] I’m so done
[text: Summer] not really sure what you expect me to say to that
[text to: gazelle boy] commiserate. pity me. offer to hit him for me. offer to rescue me
[text to: gazelle boy] why do I keep you
[text to: gazelle boy] nobody here is coherent enough to record a video
[text to: gazelle boy] when I get back I could punch you if you like
[text: Summer] How sweet
[text: Summer] but i think i’ll pass.
[text to: gazelle boy] it’s not fair that I should have to leave my friends because this one asshole
[text to: gazelle boy] I’m so done
[text to: gazelle boy] isn’t that what high school kids do these days?
[text to: gazelle boy] hell with this. if he keeps this up I’m going to punch him
[text: Summer] if you do could you tag a video?
[text: Summer] i feel like it would be very entertaining to see you punch someone.
[text to: gazelle boy] nobody here is coherent enough to record a video
[text to: gazelle boy] when I get back I could punch you if you like
He touched her, took her hands; it increased the sensation of falling down a deep well. She wasn’t sure which was worse — his fear or the half-distinct emotions of the people all around. She could almost feel his pulse.
A breath. A step. A breath, a step. A breath a step. Breath step.
Her hand hit the door of the car, and she groped for the handle, almost fell into the seat. The shaking didn’t stop, but the sparks didn’t appear, either, and she knew that was a good thing. She couldn’t completely control the fire yet. It worked, but she couldn’t control it. Better to convulse.
So she curled herself in the seat as small as possible, trying to lock her bones in place, trying not to shake out of her skin.
Once he was sure she was inside the car, he shut the door and jogged around to the driver’s side, getting in as quickly as he could manage. After reversing out of the parking spot surprisingly well all things considered, he drove onto the road, eager to reach the forest as soon as possible, pushing the gas pedal a little further than he really should have but was careful not to speed too much — the last thing they needed was to be pulled over.
He let out a small sigh of relief when they arrived at the woods. He sloppily parked the car and watched worriedly as Summer exited the vehicle into the clearing.
”I know it’s hard but try to focus on your breathing,” he did his best to keep his voice low and steady as he got out of his seat and walked around the car slowly until he was a yard away from her.
”Just breathe,” he repeated. Maybe if he said it enough times it would work.
Every mile — every /foot/ — made the volume lessen, turned the dial down on the input. Now she just had to deal with what was already in her system. Every muscle, every bone, ached, and every breath brought a helpless whimper with it. She couldn’t stand, and collapsed to her knees on the dirt and leaves, planting her hands down.
Abstractedly she watched her forearms tremble, a wave of muscle contractions pulling her back into an arc. Isaac was there; she could taste him, wild but contained. The sheer stillness of a stalking predator. Her voice was colorless and clear as she asked, “Why are you afraid of me?”
Summer slipped into the house, stepping carefully so she didn’t brush him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what she would sense if they touched. Not yet. “Thank you.” She wanted a little of the mystery she’d created for him to remain for both of them, right now.
It was hard not to know certain things, though, now that she had opened up. Hard not to sense his unease, and understand that it wasn’t her specifically.
“A soda would be really nice.” It would give her hands something to do, so she didn’t fidget. Maybe. Already one hand was behind her back, fingers sliding through her hair. Summer put the other hand back there, too, and stepped into the living room. A couch beckoned, and she perched on the edge.
”Sure thing, just um, have a seat on the couch while I go grab it,” he told her before turning on his heel and heading the opposite direction and into the kitchen. When he reentered the room, he carried a can in each hand, the metal cold against his skin, but it didn’t bother him at all.
”Oh shit, did you want a glass? I know some people don’t like drinking straight from the can—” he paused, waited for her response and ready to go grab one from the cupboard.
“It’s fine.” It was weird; the more his nerves showed, the less nervous she felt. She could still feel her pulse pounding in her chest, but she knew what to say, how to smile, to help him. “Relax. It’s fine.” She let the smile become self-deprecating. “I just dressed up to impress you.”
Summer patted the couch next to her. “I promised you could ask me anything.”
[text to: gazelle boy ] he would demand I make out with a girl here
[text to: gazelle boy ] I shouldn’t have to get angry to make my no stick
[text to: gazelle boy ] I hate this
[text: Summer] idk what you’re supposed to do
[text: Summer] do you think i have experience turning down drinks?
[text to: gazelle boy] isn’t that what high school kids do these days?
[text to: gazelle boy] hell with this. if he keeps this up I’m going to punch him
That got a small laugh.
“No, I’ve been kissed. Last year. He … anyway. Look, nobody noticed me in high school, and nobody notices me now — except you, apparently, what is up with that?”
”I don’t know. I mean, we’re friends and I can acknowledge the fact you’re hot but it doesn’t really change the fact I like Allison.” He had no idea where he was going with that.
”Maybe it’s because I like someone else that I notice? I don’t know,” he finished.
“I’m not hot, that is entirely the point here,” she protested.
“You are really strange.”
[text to: gazelle boy] he’s not trying to get me to sleep with him, he’s trying to get me to drink. wth
[text: Summer] Well some guys get really uncomfortable hearing things like that
[text: Summer] whether or not he’s trying to sleep with you is besides the point
[text to: gazelle boy ] he would demand I make out with a girl here
[text to: gazelle boy ] I shouldn’t have to get angry to make my no stick
[text to: gazelle boy ] I hate this
“If I did, I didn’t know that was what I was doing. I don’t know how to flirt. I just kinda … it’s easier if I just — I don’t know.”
”Seriously? You’re saying you’ve never actually flirted with someone before?” His look was a mix of contempt, disbelief and a pinch of boredom thrown in for good measure. He wasn’t actually annoyed with her so much as he was stumped as to how to actually help her.
”You’re a sophomore in college. How have you never flirted with someone. Next you’ll tell me you’ve never had your first kiss,” he joked with dark humour.
That got a small laugh.
“No, I’ve been kissed. Last year. He … anyway. Look, nobody noticed me in high school, and nobody notices me now — except you, apparently, what is up with that?”
“Then nearly every boy I’ve ever met is crazy. I don’t care to be shaken off or ignored, either.”
Is he nuts? I’m not going to court rejection.
”Okay have you at least tried flirting with a guy before?” He wanted to help her but there wasn’t a lot he could do if it turned out that she was socially inept.
“If I did, I didn’t know that was what I was doing. I don’t know how to flirt. I just kinda … it’s easier if I just — I don’t know.”
