Zelena.
The piercing sound of my high pitched beeping alarm clock woke me up early, well before Hank wakes up anyway. Quickly hitting the button on the top to silence the sound, I looked to my closed bedroom door for any signs of movement on the other side. Nothing. I laid there for a minute, contemplating, did I really need to go to school today? I scrunched up my nose at the thought of having to spend 8 hours at home with my dad. I sat upright and perched on the edge of my bed. Yesterday seemed like a distant memory. The three Greek Gods and their odd kindness, were they real or was that a concussion induced hallucination? I don't know which theory I'm more hopeful for. Doesn't matter, I'm sure today will be the same old boring, lonely life. I rubbed my temple remembering my little freak out in the forest. Oh God, now I really hope it was all a hallucination. How embarrassing, as if I'm not enough of a freak already. Oh well, it's not like I'll see him again anyway. Surely not.
I grabbed my towel and went for a shower. I turned the tap and let the water heat up. I like my shower water scolding hot, always have, even with the seeping wounds constantly littering my body. Once the steam filled most of the room I climbed in and let the hot water run over my bruised and battered body. I poured the soap in my hands and scrubbed my hair, the water running off my body had that familiar tinge of red to it. I didn't dare touch my back, instead I let the hot water rinse the wounds clean. I tipped my head back and let the steaming water run over my face. Hot showers are so relaxing.
Holding my towel loosely at my hips, I stood in front of my mirror and examined my broken body. My wet hair, long and knotted, hung down just past my shoulders, so black it looked to have a purple hue to it. My pale clammy skin was spotted with new pinkish purple bruises and old yellowing bruises. Some the size of a small coin, others inches across. My gold lifeless eyes sat above dark purple circles, with bushy dark brows that spread all the way out to my temples. My small and perky breasts hung slightly to the sides. My thin waist and stomach accentuated my ribcage, with my hip and collar bones protruding out. The pale skin was splattered with dark pink scars. My body, used as the canvas to exhibit my father's abusive art project. I pulled my towel up and turned away as a tear fell. I don't want to see anymore. I'm disgusting, everything about me is grotesque.
I threw on some baggy jeans and a loose green t-shirt. I ran a brush through my wet hair and threw it over my shoulders. I inspected the gash on my forehead. It had scabbed over a bit now but still looked horrible and red. I got my trusty foundation bottle, that I stole on one of my grocery runs, and tipped it onto my fingers. I spread it over my face, covering my dark eyes and the new cut on my cheek. It disguised the small cut well enough, but it wasn't going to do any good for the scabby mess on my forehead though. So, I pulled out another band-aid and strategically placed it over the red gash. Picking up my grey hoodie, backpack and ratty old shoes, I quietly walked out of my bedroom. I tiptoed to the front door, passing the lounge room. Hank was in there passed out in his armchair with beer cans scattered around his feet.
I went through the door and closed it as quietly as possible behind me, running down the driveway and onto the street, I let out a sigh of relief. I walked a fair distance away from the house before sitting down and pulling my shoes on. Looking up to the light blue morning sky I took a deep breath. Another clear and beautiful day. After a few more deep breaths I picked myself up and took off into the forest, still gazing up at the sky as I went. Walking slowly, enjoying the fresh air and cool spring breeze, I could easily lose myself.
"Good morning". I jumped, startled at the sound of a voice from behind me.
"Whoa, sorry" he giggled, as I spun around to face him.
"I didn't mean to scare you" Gunner said putting his arms up with a smile.
"You didn't" I whispered. I dropped my head and went to pull my hood up over my face.
"Stop" he pleaded, grabbing my wrist and forcing me to let go of the hood. My heart rate sped up and a cold shiver went through me. The hood fell and slid down the back of my head.
"Please don't cover your face". He moved to stand right in front of me, still holding my hand by my face. My entire body tensed up. I was frozen with panic, staring at is hold on my wrist. He stared at me with confusion and followed my gaze to our hands. He let me go and took a step back dropping his head.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have grabbed you like that" he mumbled, sliding his hands into his jean pockets.
"Just don't cover your face, please, you don't have to hide from me".
His eyes were sad and longing as they stared me down. I didn't mean to upset him, I just panicked for a second there. All my life being grabbed usually means pain is coming. But something about Gunner was different. I don't know what. But it's like I could feel that he didn't mean me any harm. Why do I have to be like this? Why do I have to be scared of everything? I had this strong urge to want to make him feel better, but I didn't know how to, or why I needed to.
"I'm, I'm sorry, it's just um" I mumbled as I dropped my head letting my hair fall over my face. He stepped forward and put his hand under my chin to lift my head. I complied and allowed him to slowly lift my face to his. I closed my eyes as he tucked the hair from my face behind my ear. He gasped and let go of my chin.
"Zee, what happened to your face?" he asked with a stern tone. I turned my head away, ashamed, and pulled my hair back out.
"Zelena, who did that to you?" he growled at me.
I stepped back from him, scared of the growl in his tone and the idea of having to answer his question. I couldn't tell him about my dad. If I, did Hank would kill me, and he'd kill Gunner. I felt my face pale, I wouldn't let that happen. Gunner stepped forward with a snarl on his beautiful face,
"Whoa, easy mate".
Cole was suddenly there with his arm around Gunner's chest. Where he came from, I have no idea? I looked around and Smith was behind him too. He held up his arm and wiggled his fingers at me. I smiled awkwardly back at him. Gunner threw Cole's arm off him and stepped towards me grabbing my hands in his, he leaned down and looked into my eyes. There it was again, that warm and soothing feeling. How does he do that to me.
"Zee. I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry" he said softly. He smiled at me with a half-smile, but he didn't mean it, his eyes were full of worry and hurt. I smiled at him and nodded. He stood up straight and went to let go of my hands, but I held on to one of them. Gripping his huge hand with mine, I admired our interlocking fingers. Small pins and needles slithered their way through my fingers and up my arm. I looked up at him and smiled. His eyes sparkled and his whole face smiled back at me.
"Wow" he breathed,
"You are beautiful". My cheeks burned as I blushed under his adoring gaze.
"Okay you two" coughed Smith,
"Let's go or we'll be late for school".
Smith and Cole walked off ahead of us. Gunner entwined his fingers with mine, making sure that I didn't let go. He nodded with his head gesturing down the path and raised his eyebrows. Still blushing, I smiled and nodded. We began walking together with my hand still in his. A small and simple gesture, and yet it meant everything to me.
When we reached the school, the lot was empty, meaning everyone was already inside. We followed Cole and Smith through the doors of the school, still hand in hand. As we entered the hallway an eerie silence befell the halls, they all turned and stared at Gunner and me. My eyes darted around the hallway, seeing everyone whispering to each other and looking at me with disgust. It's the most visible that I have ever felt, and I hated it. I dropped my head and pulled my hoodie up. Letting go of Gunners hand I made a beeline for my classroom, leaving the three boys behind me.
"Zee wait!" he called after me, but I didn't stop.
I passed whispering faces and dirty looks as I made my way down the hall.
"There's no way"
"She's dreaming"
"Is this a prank?"
I kept my head down and avoided eye contact. The looks and the snide comments were nothing new, I got them every day. But I was so stupid to think that Gunner and I could actually be together. He was high class royalty, I was dumpster smut, and everyone knew it. I reached my class and hurried to my usual seat, in the back corner of the room. I sat down and leaned over to put my bag on the floor, when I sat up again, Smith was sitting next to me. He smiled and pulled his calculus book out.
"I hope you're good at this crap, because I suck" he said with a crooked smile. I half smiled back at him with a shrug of my shoulders.
The tiresome Mr. Phillips was our math teacher. He is a middle-aged balding man that always dressed in beige khaki shorts with colorful tartan socks pulled up to his knees. He was boring at most, but with the wit and sarcasm that could floor most of his students. In the middle of class Smith plopped a folded-up piece of paper on my desk, he looked at me with anticipation. His cheeks were red and bursting with his barely held in giggles. I unfolded the note and studied it. A smile crept across my face as I started to understand what I was seeing. It was a terribly drawn picture of who I assume to be Mr. Phillips, wearing a bikini, with pigtails in his hair and riding on, what I think is a dolphin. I glanced at Smith, and he was nearly crying from his silent laughter. He had his hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds. He then pretends to push up his boobs, flick his hair over his shoulder and gallop away on his dolphin. It was funny, and I couldn't help but giggle with him. I gave him back the drawing and looked back down at my book, still smiling to myself. Is this what having a friend feels like? Joking and giggling, having a reason to smile. I like this feeling, this blissful comfort. I like having a friend.