Boy
Quatre
Ryan's jaw hurt slightly from last night when that guy grabbed her face. She rubbed it as she trudged up the hill, sticks cracking and leaves crinkling under her boots. She rubbed her eyes, because being back here irritated her allergies.
She tripped a couple of times on tree roots and had a small cut on her cheek by now. But what's another scar anyway?
Finally she reached the top of the cliff and sat on the edge, ignoring the fact that bugs were crawling there. She looked down at her city and sighed at the smoke rising and the sound of police sirens.
She scooted up a bit further so she could dangle her legs off the edge. Time passed and she was starting to think she should head back home, considering she had no cell phone or means of communication. She lifted a leg to push herself up and pressed against the ground to steady her self. Her foot slipped and she started tumbling off the edge. She screamed and tried to grab something but just grasped soil. The last bit of her disappeared beyond the drop and she could swear she saw her shitty life flash before her eyes before a strong hand grabbed onto her wrist.
She was swinging from the persons arm before they tried to use their other hand to pull her back up. Finally, they were able to get her up and drag her far enough onto the ground.
She looked up and her eyes went wide.
"I have to say, it's really smart to come up here, by yourself, and sit on the edge of a cliff," he said, wiping his hands off on his jeans.
She was at a loss for words. It was him. He had the infamous black hoodie on, but this was the first time she'd seen him with the hood down, which revealed and full head of silky, long, curly hair.
"Not a talker?" he asked, furrowing his thick eyebrows.
"Th-thank you…" she said, stuttering.
"I'd be kind of an asshole if I watched you fall to your death and did nothing about it," he said, running his fingers through his hair. She was staring and he noticed.
"Well…I better get home," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Where do you live?" she asked, standing finally and dusting off her pants.
"Dayton Oaks," he said, simply.
"The…trailer park?" His expression changed.
"Well not all of us can afford a house."
"Can I go with you?" she asked suddenly. He smirked.
"But you just met me." This was true. And she didn't even know what made her ask. It just came out, like it wasn't her, it was something else. If that made sense.
"You're right…I don't know why I asked."
"You can come, though. If you want."
"Where're your parents at?" she asked, stepping into the trailer.
"Dead," he said, sitting on the couch.
"Oh! I'm so sorry. I didn't know…..can I ask how they died?"
"I killed them," he said seriously. She stuttered incoherent words and backed up. He stood.
"I'm kidding. They were in a crash. I live with my grandma." She let out a sigh of relief and laughed uneasily. Yet, she was still slightly creeped out.
"Oh. You had me there."
"I know I did."
By the time Ryan got home the sun had started to set, indicating that she was gone all day, talking to that boy, who oddly enough, never gave her his name.
"I'll have to remember to get it next time," she thought out loud. She used her key to open the door and walked into her apartment. She was hoping she would be able to get in without her mother hearing her, but it was nearly impossible due to the squeaking floorboards.
"Ryan, where the hell you been!?" her mother said, appearing from the hallway.
"Mom, I lost track of time," Ryan said, gulping.
"You been gone all day! For all I know, you been raped, slapped around…shot…"
"Mom, I'm fine. I was with a friend." She raised her eyebrow.
"A friend? Eric?" I shook my head. "I know you better be keepin' them legs of yours closed."
"MOM!" Ryan said, her eyes bulging.
"I'm dead serious."
She tripped a couple of times on tree roots and had a small cut on her cheek by now. But what's another scar anyway?
Finally she reached the top of the cliff and sat on the edge, ignoring the fact that bugs were crawling there. She looked down at her city and sighed at the smoke rising and the sound of police sirens.
She scooted up a bit further so she could dangle her legs off the edge. Time passed and she was starting to think she should head back home, considering she had no cell phone or means of communication. She lifted a leg to push herself up and pressed against the ground to steady her self. Her foot slipped and she started tumbling off the edge. She screamed and tried to grab something but just grasped soil. The last bit of her disappeared beyond the drop and she could swear she saw her shitty life flash before her eyes before a strong hand grabbed onto her wrist.
She was swinging from the persons arm before they tried to use their other hand to pull her back up. Finally, they were able to get her up and drag her far enough onto the ground.
She looked up and her eyes went wide.
"I have to say, it's really smart to come up here, by yourself, and sit on the edge of a cliff," he said, wiping his hands off on his jeans.
She was at a loss for words. It was him. He had the infamous black hoodie on, but this was the first time she'd seen him with the hood down, which revealed and full head of silky, long, curly hair.
"Not a talker?" he asked, furrowing his thick eyebrows.
"Th-thank you…" she said, stuttering.
"I'd be kind of an asshole if I watched you fall to your death and did nothing about it," he said, running his fingers through his hair. She was staring and he noticed.
"Well…I better get home," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Where do you live?" she asked, standing finally and dusting off her pants.
"Dayton Oaks," he said, simply.
"The…trailer park?" His expression changed.
"Well not all of us can afford a house."
"Can I go with you?" she asked suddenly. He smirked.
"But you just met me." This was true. And she didn't even know what made her ask. It just came out, like it wasn't her, it was something else. If that made sense.
"You're right…I don't know why I asked."
"You can come, though. If you want."
"Where're your parents at?" she asked, stepping into the trailer.
"Dead," he said, sitting on the couch.
"Oh! I'm so sorry. I didn't know…..can I ask how they died?"
"I killed them," he said seriously. She stuttered incoherent words and backed up. He stood.
"I'm kidding. They were in a crash. I live with my grandma." She let out a sigh of relief and laughed uneasily. Yet, she was still slightly creeped out.
"Oh. You had me there."
"I know I did."
By the time Ryan got home the sun had started to set, indicating that she was gone all day, talking to that boy, who oddly enough, never gave her his name.
"I'll have to remember to get it next time," she thought out loud. She used her key to open the door and walked into her apartment. She was hoping she would be able to get in without her mother hearing her, but it was nearly impossible due to the squeaking floorboards.
"Ryan, where the hell you been!?" her mother said, appearing from the hallway.
"Mom, I lost track of time," Ryan said, gulping.
"You been gone all day! For all I know, you been raped, slapped around…shot…"
"Mom, I'm fine. I was with a friend." She raised her eyebrow.
"A friend? Eric?" I shook my head. "I know you better be keepin' them legs of yours closed."
"MOM!" Ryan said, her eyes bulging.
"I'm dead serious."