Chapter 2

Ethan:

I stuck my hands deep into the pockets grudgingly and kicked a crushed can on the pavement, venting my anger on it. I cursed Mrs. Padmore, the school principal, for giving me two weeks worth of detention. I cursed Mrs. Folly for reporting me to Mrs. Padmore. I cursed Terry for pissing me off.

I sucked in a sharp breath as a piece of old memory flashed before my eyes. I shut my eyes in reluctance. I hated it, every time I was forced to remember those blasted recollections. My fingers balled into fists.

She was screaming for him to stop the beatings but that bastard continued to abuse her physically. She threatened to report him to the police. His eyes lit with a fire of malice, gripping her at the throat, suffocating her. Yet, I… I was hiding behind the door of my room, watching. Just watching.

It was my fault.

“Whytte!”

I looked up from the cemented ground and craned my neck to the back. It was that girl. She hastened to me but I started my steps again, ignoring her. I did not defend her for any particular reason. She was not anybody to me.

She was breathing heavily and erupted into a small fit of cough when she caught up to me. I sniffed in annoyance. Everyone knew about her natural health problems. She was weaker than normal people from the medical aspect. She was sick most of the times. Asthmatic, low blood pressure and a weak heart.

“What do you want?” I snapped. I did not appreciate company. I disliked being around people in any case.

“Why… why… why did you… hit Terry Bradger?” she questioned with much difficulty. Her right hand clutched the left side of her chest while her free hand pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. Her long, wavy black hair swept her back.

“None of your concern,” I muttered.

She shook her head wearily. Her face was pale as usual. “No, it concerns me. Moreover, I’m concerned about you.”

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Concerned about me? Excuse me, but I believe you don’t know me enough to say that you are concerned about me.”

Her turquoise eyes shifted sideways. She bit her lower lip. “Why do you have to carry such a cold attitude towards others? Is it wrong to allow others to befriend you and care for you?”

I kept quiet. I felt no need to answer her.

“You shouldn’t have hit Bradger,” she said quietly. “Please don’t harm anyone again.”

I looked at her piercingly. “Did I hear you right? Because if I remember right, I was helping you,” I fumed.

She grimaced. “W-well, I… I do not appreciate such help.”

I lifted my eyes from her in disgust. “Go away, Coltrane.”

The girl shrunk away, intimidated. “I’m sorry, Whytte. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Go!” I raised my voice.

Like every other person, she fled from me. I knew she was afraid of me. I was fine with it. I was used to it, used to keeping to myself.

I continued my way to my uncle’s workshop. I had work to do after school - a mother and a younger sister to support.