Kendall

The park is desolate of any human life. I enjoy the isolation though,I need time to be alone and breathe before I have to go back to school and face everyone. Skipping school wasn't normal for me, but the thought of what might be waiting for me terrifies me. I wonder how many people know my secret now. Surely Eric and Brody have spread this juicy piece of information around that Kendall Renee, the orphan, cuts herself. If I were someone else and there was another "Kendall" in my school, it wouldn't surprise me that they would cut themselves.

If I were someone else, would I pity them? Would I reach out and talk to them? Before the accident I wasn't on the A-list, but I was pretty close to being on the top of the popularity pyramid. If someone was bullied I wouldn't think twice about them and keep on walking. Maybe this was a sick form payback.

The sun is in the center of the usual perfect blue sky. I sit on the hard bench and absentmindedly rub the scratches on my arm. I keep thinking of Brody and the horror and disgust on his face. Why did he follow me out the mall? Did he think the cuts weren't real and he had to have a second look? Maybe he cared. Then I remember him telling me I was crazy and I needed help, which I don't blame him for and completely agree with.

Then, I hear that voice,his voice, and my heart pounds. Should I run from him?."Kendall?" He is behind the bench. Instead of facing my fear and turning to face him, I stand and I hear him drop something drop something to the ground, a back pack maybe. "Wait," he says,"I want to talk to you." His voice is soft and gentle.Do I turn and face him or simply walk away from him? "Please?" his voice is almost a whisper. There is no one here to see him freak out if he sees my arm again. Reluctantly, I turn and face him.

Brody stares up at me sitting on the wooden bench, his dark brown hair hanging in his equally dark brown eyes. My head aches and my stomach is in knots. "Skipping as well?" I ask in a shaky voice. My feet nudge his back pack that lays by his converse wearing feet. I try to think of anything other than cutting. He nods and pats the space next to him on the bench. I sit down and let the wind lightly blow my short locks in the breeze. "Well," I continue turning my body to him to find him staring intently at me," I'm not worth missing your classes. Might as well go back."

I fiddle with my sleeve. His hand reaches tentatively over to mine and I freeze. Brody avoids my questioning gaze and gently holds my wrist in his large hand as he lifts up my sleeve. I don't stop him,not even when he sees the new large gashes in my arm. He already knows, so there is nothing left to hide from him.

He turns pale and his skin barely touches mine as his hand glides over my arm. He shakes his head and sighs. I know nothing about him,but knowing that I've disappointed him hurts me. No matter what, I disappoint everyone.

My arm slides beneath his soft skin as I pull away. I want to cry from embarrassment. I feel like he is under my skin. The tears sting my eyes.

"How many people did you tell?" I ask. Better to know how many people know now rather than later."About me, I mean." Brody meets my eyes with a huge question mark on his face. "What do you mean?" he asks.."I didn't tell anyone. Why would I ?"

At first I think he is joking, but as I look deep into his chocolate brown eyes, I see he is telling the truth. "Really?" I ask any way. The joy I feel when he shakes his head is overwhelming. I smile up at the sky and look back at him. He has no smile though. I lean forward and grab him and wrap my arms around him. He smells like sweet smelling cologne. "Thank you." I whisper in his ear."Thank you, thank you." I begin to pull away when he places one of his arms around me.

I shiver from his gentle touch. I feel like I might melt in his arms. I lay my head on his shoulder and he whispers "I wouldn't tell anyone," in my ear. Brody's arm falls to his side and I am quick to pull away. Did I really just hug him? His face is slightly red and he looks down,as do I.

"I could not sleep last night." He admits after a moment. I hear the bench groan under Brody's weight shift. He is turned toward me, but I ignore him as my face flushes. "I couldn't stop thinking about you." Not me really, I'm sure of that, but rather the horrible things he has seen on my arm.

This is a mistake. I should leave, now. I stand and take one step. Two. Three.

"I don't need this you know," he calls out to me. I pause and turn to him. He's standing and has his back pack slung over his shoulder. "I don't need this." He repeats. He shakes his head and has a deranged smile on his face. "I thought this was going to be a great year... and now I have to put up with you." he whispers, but I manage to hear him.

Anger shoots through me." No one asked you to ' put up with me'!" I shout. My hands are shaking and I hear my heart beat faster. "Do both of us a favor and leave me alone!" I walk away, tears falling, and hear Brody groan in frustration. "Wait,"

His strong hands grab my arm. The same as when Eric did it, I feel my wounds open and the blood come out. I whimper and Brody loosens his grip.

He whispers,"I'm so sorry," and checks on the cuts. I feel sick and look away. "You...you don't like blood?" Brody asks. I shake my head. Brody pulls me closer to him and lift his shirt enough for me to see he has a very sculpted chest and wipes the blood away until it stops coming out. He doesn't let go of my arm and gingerly touches a few cuts. His hands are large, I wonder how they manage to touch me so gently.

I feel too exposed and begin to squirm under his scrutiny.

Finally, he releases me and his eyes travel to my face. "I don't understand. How do you do it if you can't stand the blood?"

I do not want to talk anymore. I back away. "You should go back to class now." I start walking away and again he follows me in silence.

I'm not sure where I am heading with Brody in tow , but I do know that I am starving and I am standing a few feet from a diner. "You want some lunch? My treat." he says casually. I stop and turn to him with a scowl on my face. "No, I want you to leave me alone." Though I really don't. I secretly want someone to talk to. Heck I am desperately in need of a friend to confide in.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Please. I need to talk to you."

Stupidly, I agree and he leads me to a booth in the far back corner of the diner. Like the park, the place is empty except for us and the workers. An old waitress comes along almost immediately to ask for our drinks as she hands us menus.

"You said this was your treat?" I ask. Brody gives a small grin that would be unnoticed by any random bystander if you weren't really looking at him. "Yes. Get anything you like."

I take him up on his offer and order a shake with a burger and fries, and so does he. "Sorry," I say when the waitress walks away with our order. "I haven't had actual food since I moved out here." My aunt and uncle burned water, so we pretty much lived off of anything you could pop in the microwave.

Of course my statement prompts Brody to ask, "So why did you move here?"

Surprisingly, I don't feel sick, my head doesn't start to spin, and the tears don't pour out like usual when someone asks me this. Though I do tap my finger anxiously on the table. "My parents," I said. I take a deep breath in and blow it out slowly." They died a few months ago, so I moved here with my aunt, uncle, and cousin."

"So is that why you..."

"Cut myself?" I ask." Yes." He turns to pale.

The waitress returns at that moment with our food. My mouth waters at the sight of actual food. When she walks away, Brody picks at his food. I imagine his appetite is gone. I, on the other hand, take a bite of my burger, but with the this unnerving silence between Brody and I it is hard to swallow.

"I'm sorry." he says looking up at me. With the help of my shake, the food goes down eventually.

If I had a dime for each time a person in this town has told me they were "sorry" , I would be rich. I am getting sick of people telling me that.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. Not like you killed my parents."I say simply popping a fry in my mouth. I know I am being rude, but I am tired of being pitied by everyone. "I mean, I'm sorry for what you have to go through."

"So you feel sorry for me?" My voice rises in anger and tense up.

"Well, I-"

"Listen. I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I wish everyone would stop saying that!"

Brody stares back at me. My face burns. "Why are you just staring at me like that?" I ask. The edge from my voice has gone.

"I'm trying to figure you out, truthfully." His eyes fall down to my arm and travel back to my face swiftly. "You worry me."

"I worry you? Please, you don't even know me."

"I know enough, already."

"You know too much." I mumble.

"You really do worry me though" He says when I give him a look of "I don't believe you". He clears his throat and continues," That's why I couldn't sleep last night. I was worried that you might... hurt yourself. Which you obviously did." Brody shakes his head.

"I-I'm sorry." I mumble looking down. "I just feel like no matter what I do, I am disappointing someone. Even you, a total stranger." I gesture to him with my hands. He grabs one and pulls it toward him.

"Promise me you won't do it again." He says softly.

His warm fingers slide up my sleeve and touch my scarred skin. "Please?"

"I don't think I can." I whisper. The thought of not having my blades makes me uneasy. They are my clutch, how I deal with...well, everything. The pain takes me away from my thoughts and emotions.

"Kendall," my name sounds wonderful coming from his soft looking lips,"promise me you won't do it anymore. I'll help you." I shake my head. His fingers stroke my arm and I get chills."Why do you care what happens to me?"

His fingers stop moving for a moment."Because I know what you do to yourself. If I walk away from you knowing you're killing yourself, I would never be able to live with myself."

"I make you feel guilty? Listen, Brody, you can walk away from my mess of a life right now. I wouldn't blame you. I don't need help."

My sleeve is pulled down roughly. "Look at that!" he exclaims." You think you don't need help?" I pull down my sleeve and glare at him. "If you were in my position, you wouldn't walk away." he says. I want to tell him that I would walk away, but I think about it and I realize that I wouldn't be able to. Knowing someone is doing this to themselves and just walking away would be so... heartless.

"Promise me." he repeats.

I would try, really really try. How hard could it be. Maybe I would try some deep breathing or some crap like that, but how long would I last before I would crack?

"Okay," I say meekly," I promise."