Chapter Six.


Some people walking in front of me as I came into the detention room were talking about how relieved they were that the air conditioner was working today. I couldn't say that I wasn't thankful for that myself. Yesterday's session was a little bit grueling, but I don't think I could completely blame it on the heat.

I carried my Algebra book under my arm, a couple of loose leaf sheets of paper sticking out of it randomly; unfinished assignments that I needed to get done before the end of the quarter if I didn't want to fail the class. I had decided to bring them so that I could at least pretend to be doing something this time.

It was just as I predicted the evening before. As soon as I came into contact with my friends, my confidence evaporated instantly. I strode into the school ready to march right up to Jason and invite him to my house for video games and pizza, -lame, I know- and then I bumped into Chris, Matt, and Carson. My bubble was popped. The ambition I'd had was gone so fast that I almost forgot that it had been there in the first place.

So now, I was back where I started, just like I had assumed. And as I took the same seat that I had taken yesterday to wait out my punishment, I wondered what would happen if I just asked Jason if he would like a ride home today.

Yeah. That was a good idea. I mean, that would be it, no strings attached. The worst thing he could possibly say was "no". And that wasn't even that bad... I could just try to forget any of this ever happened.

What could really be the harm? Everyone had gone home that I knew, so no one would see me with him.

God, that was terrible.

The door slammed shut and the room was full, except for the seat next to me. A few seconds passed where my heart was suspended somewhere in my throat, and I was wondering if Jason was even going to show up today. But just as the final bell was ringing, Jason walked in, and upon first glance he wasn't looking so good. His eyes were half lidded, and he was just staring at the ground in front of him, not scanning over the room like usual. His hair was down and disheveled. Well, more disheveled than normal, and the black polo shirt and jeans he was wearing looked dirty and hung baggy and wrinkled over his small frame. Even his posture looked tired. My mind raced with possibilities, wanting to know what it was that he was up to last night to leave him looking like this.

He took the seat next to me, resting his bag gently on the top of the desk; a little different than his characteristic slam. Then he leaned back into the seat and sighed, running the fingers of both hands over his forehead and into his hair, keeping his eyes covered with his palms. He looked absolutely exhausted.

He stayed like this for a minute, as I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He soon dropped his hands to his sides and gazed around the room lazily. I hurriedly looked to the front, pretending to be extremely interested in Ms. Shane. I just barely noticed that she'd gotten a new romance novel. I saw out of my peripheral vision that Jason's head was turned in my direction, and I just knew that he was staring me down. But I couldn't see his expression, and he soon turned away. Then he put his bag on the floor beside him and folded his arms on top of his desk, plopping face first on top of them. Breathing out a little sigh of relief, I put my Algebra book on my desk and opened it to one of the assignments I had to do.

I was still watching him. It felt very much like stalking, and I was creeping myself out. But I couldn't help it; I couldn't stop.

Jason then turned his head to the side, facing me. I panicked and looked at my book, writing down a random problem on a sheet of paper to busy myself with. I stared at it blankly, trying to figure it out but failing miserably. I forgot how bad I was at math. A lot of good this was doing me at looking occupied.

A few minutes later, after struggling to figure out what number "G" equaled, I took a chance and glanced over. Evidently, he was asleep. His eyes were ringed in black eyeliner, thick and smudged. His overly pierced lips were slightly open, and he was breathing evenly and slowly. I kind of wanted to smile; he looked so much different when he was asleep. It was odd; he looked like a little kid. Or a girl.

"Jason," Ms. Shane's voice shattered the silence, and I jumped. He didn't move one bit. She sighed and got up to walk over here.

No, don't wake him up, don't wake him up.

I wished that she could read my mind, but obviously she couldn't. She stepped over to his desk and whacked him lightly over the head with the back of her book. He jolted up in his seat, and stared at her with a mixture of shock and anger on his face.

"Don't," She said simply, glaring at him sternly. Then she walked back to her seat and resumed her reading.

Unable to help myself, I turned to look at him. It was startling how he looked right at me as soon as my eyes rested on him. My heart jumped harshly into my throat in terror. There was a moment of intense eye contact, and I thought I was going to have a heart attack. But all he did was glance over to Ms. Shane, tilting his chin towards her in a little gesture, and then looked back at me. He rolled his eyes and smirked.

Wait, was that communication?

I tried to think if something to do or say in response, but he'd already turned away, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. He stretched out his legs and then crossed them, tilting his head down. His long bangs fell into his eyes, and he didn't move again. I looked back to my Algebra work. All I could think about was that I needed a graphing calculator. Everything else in my brain had been erased when he had smiled at me.

I stared at the open book for what felt like forever. It took me a few minutes to realize that my mouth was hanging open. Drool was puddling on the inside of my bottom lip, and when it almost started to overflow, I snapped my mouth shut, feeling embarrassed even though no one had seen. That was when I got the inspiration to actually try a problem or two. But as soon as I put my pencil to the paper, the bell rang. Woah, how long had we been in here?

I looked at the clock. It really had already been an hour. Holy shit, where did the time go? Everyone filed quickly out of the room. In a daze, I closed my book and tucked the papers back into it.

"Jason? Jason? Wake up." Ms. Shane looked pissed. She turned to me. "Can you give him a nudge? I really have to go. It might take a minute to get him up, that kid sleeps like a rock."

I gaped helplessly at her, but she was already gone, out the door before the sound of her heels clicking along the tile floor had drowned out. And then it was just me and Jason, alone, in the silence of the empty detention room. All I could hear was the clock ticking, and the sound of Jason's breathing.

Taking a deep breath myself, I stood up and walked around my desk. I stood stupidly in front of Jason, unmoving for a second, not entirely sure of what to do. I looked to my left, and to my right, making sure one last time that we were alone.

Then I cleared my throat. He didn't move.

"Jason," I whispered hesitantly. Nothing. I made a pained expression and said it a little louder. Nothing. I sighed, for some reason feeling like I was on the verge of tears, and tried one more time, saying his name at a normal speaking voice. Still nothing.

I took another deep breath and swallowed. Furrowing my eyebrows, I told myself that this wasn't a big deal, and that I really needed to stop freaking out. Cautiously, I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. Closing my fingers around it, noticing how small it seemed to be, I gave him a little shake. He didn't stir. I pursed my lips and shook a little harder. I waited a second this time because I thought I had heard him say something, but it was just a snore. Damn, what did this kid have for breakfast? A big bowl of diphenhydramine?

I shook him as hard as I could muster without feeling bad. He finally jumped, grabbing my wrist and smacking it away. I knew that it was just a reaction, but I couldn't help but feel a little bit hurt. He stared up at me, and then around the room. A look of realization crossed his face. He grabbed his bag and got up.

"Thanks for not leaving me here," he said quietly, but bitterly, as if that had happened to him before.

"It's no - " He was already walking out the door. I sighed. "Problem."

Then I remembered my plan. Scooping my Algebra book off of my desk, I followed him, trying not to think too hard about what I was going to do. I was afraid I might chicken out if I did.

"Hey. Hey, Jason! Wait up!" My voice sounded like I had just hit puberty at that very second. I should have known it was going to do that; it always did when I was nervous. He turned his head as he walked and looked at me for a second, and I thought that I could slow down. I was wrong. He just kept going, faster than he originally was. Feeling strangely persistent, I hurried after him. When I was right behind him, I grabbed his arm.

"What the fuck do you want?" he snapped loudly and harshly, flinching away from my hand. Once again I felt hurt, this time for good reason. I stood there, appalled, unable to speak. He didn't say anything either. He just stared me down with his eyes wide in anger and suspicion. I couldn't help but notice that the harder I looked at him, the more he looked like a girl. Very subtle feminine features. But having his anger directed at me was traumatizing. I stumbled for words.

"I, uh..." I could not think of even one slightly intelligent thing to say. "Um..."

"I, uh, um, what?" Jason snapped quickly, mocking me. He crossed his arms, his glare unfaltering. I blinked awkwardly.

"Do you want a ride home?" I asked calmly, as if on autopilot. Smooth, Sam. Real smooth.

He stared at me in silence for a moment, straight-faced. Then he looked like he'd swallowed a bug.

"Huh?"

"Well, I know that you walk everyday. I drive right past you. I just wanted to know if you wanted a ride home today." Okay, that was a little better, I guess. He still didn't answer me. There was another moment of awkward silence. I rubbed the back of my neck nervously, waiting for a response.

"That's okay, Samuel-"

"Sam," I told him quickly. "Call me Sam."

He blinked at me.

"Okay, Sam. Don't worry about it, I'll manage." He started to walk away again. Instantly, I grabbed his arm just above his elbow. I don't know why. Maybe it was because I had already started and I didn't want to finish empty handed. Maybe it was because I was getting mad at how rude he was being. It was probably because my brain had shut down, and now I was just reacting stupidly on impulses.

With a tinge of anger in my voice, I said, "Jason, I just want to give you a ride. That's all. Why do you have to be so...?"  I couldn't think of a word to finish the sentence. But I'm pretty sure that I got my message across, because his expression softened into what might have been sadness. But then it hardened again, almost immediately.

"Come on, what's the fucking catch? Are your buddies waiting for me in the parking lot or something? Because I swear to fucking GOD, I am not in the mood for any of that shit today-"

"No, Jason, my friends are not waiting for me," I told him, smiling and almost on the verge of laughing. If only he knew that I would be just as devastated as him if they were. "I swear, I am not up to anything. I'm just trying to be nice."

There was another long silence. And when I say long, I mean long.

And then we were in my car.

Yeah, I was surprised too. He actually agreed.

He had given me directions to his house, told me his address, and I was driving there. It really wasn't far. Also, it was only two blocks away from my house. I was giddy with my success, and just so amazed that he was sitting next to me in my car. His smell overpowered my air freshener. Cigarettes mostly, but also that flowery perfume-like smell. It's odd, but to me it smelled really nice.

Kind of comforting in a way. I don't know why.

I was so tense. I could barely drive. Jason, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease with the situation. He had fallen asleep. His knees were pulled up to his chest and he had his arms wrapped around them. His face was turned towards me with his eyes closed and the back of his head resting against the window. At a red light, I looked over at him, and once again took notice to how young he looked when he was sleeping, even with all of that metal and makeup on his face. He was so thin, but it didn't look unhealthy. But he was so pale. Had he always been this pale? He was as white as a sheet. I could see prominent blue veins snaking around under the skin of his arms. Was that healthy? Was he going to keel over and die right here in my car?

A car behind me honked in annoyance. Startled, I stepped on the gas pedal a little bit harder than necessary and tried to concentrate harder on driving.

Surprisingly, I made it to his house in one piece, even after I'd spent ninety percent of the time staring at him instead of the road. I parked in his driveway and not really wanting to wake him, I cautiously whispered his name.

Immediately, his eyes snapped open.