t w e n t y

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Ceon

All the melting, warmer feelings that I had felt towards Theodore were completely gone. I felt hopeless, helpless, angry. When we were walking towards the stairs of the station, Danyelle futilely tried to get my eye. I wouldn’t look at her, talk to her. I simply ignored her, ignored the froufrou conversation Matt and Sarai were holding out. I ignored Theodore’s limp arm around her shoulder that I desperately wanted to wrench back and break. Theodore bent down to fix one of the chains on his bike. She touched my shoulder then, but I shrugged her off. She reeled back, wounded. I was unhappy.

Fletcher was shooting Theodore horrible, daunting looks that would stop a charging bull. He didn’t seem to notice.

I had to admit; Theodore was pretty slick—trying to act we were buds when really he wanted me to feel comfortable so he could make me the fool again. I was cool with it though. I was getting over Danyelle.

I watched her worriedly pick a hangnail on her manicured pinkie. She was frowning, her forehead crinkled and creased. I wanted to smooth it out for her and kiss it better. Damnit.

“Think we should split up?” Theodore asked.

Fletcher attacked. “Why, so you can try to report us again?”

Danyelle shot him a warning look, and he shot one right back, though fiercer and meaner. She was taken aback, and I was happy he picked me.

Mario shifted from one foot to the other uneasily.

“Well,” he started, “Uh, I don’t know what that’s all about, but I don’t think we should split up. Not everyone here has a cell, and the guys have to go soon.”

“I’d be willing to stay,” the skinny brown one said.

Mario shrugged, and Theodore brightened a little. “Yeah, me and Danny could go on one—“

Fletcher charged again. “Why, so you guys could make out again?”

This time Theodore shot him a fierce look, but Fletcher stared back defiantly, ready for a fight. His fists were balled and his face was red and his feet were planted firmly and set apart—perfect tackle stance.

Danyelle looked angry. “Stop it,” she said, not even looking at Fletcher. Danyelle Jacobs was looking at me.

I spoke up for the first time since we’d gotten off the train. “Well, you know what? You made that shitty promise that you’d get us back to Studebaker, and well, we’re here.” I looked at Sarai and Matt, who stood wide-eyed staring at Fletcher, who was still breathing loudly through his nose and shooting daggers at Theodore.

“Ceon—“ Danyelle started.

I cut her off. “Seeing you did everything you needed to, we can find our way back to the alley from here. Trust me,” I said, pointedly looking at Theodore, “I won’t be needing your so-called ‘help’ again.”

Mario looked confused, and his friends were gauging Danyelle’s reaction.

“All right,” she said.

“Where ya’ll goin’?” Theodore asked.

“Shut it,” Fletcher practically spat, grabbing Matthew’s hand.

“You go ahead,” I said quietly to Fletcher. “I’ll follow behind, be home soon. We’ll attract less attention.”

He nodded, shot one final glare at Theodore over his shoulder, and walked away into the sunlight.

Danyelle was staring at me, her eyes disappointed and sad. I moved away from them, taking Sarai with me. We sat on a bench as if we were waiting from a train like all the other folks while Danyelle, Theodore, Mario and his pals stood around chatting. Sarai kept glancing back towards them. Not one of them followed us.

After about 15 minutes when I assumed Fletcher was home, I stood.

I walked over to Mario first. “Thank you,” I said quietly. “So much,” I said.

Mario gave me a confident smile and hugged me. “You guys too,” I said to his friends. They each smiled and shook my hand. The skinny one had a dazzling smile, and he pushed his glasses farther up on his face.

I turned to Theodore, and didn’t look at him directly. “It was nice to see you again, Theodore,” I said. He gave me a curt nod, a smirk forever plastered to his face.

Before I could open my mouth, Danyelle spoke. “I’ll walk you out,” she said.

I shrugged, trying to act as if I didn’t care, and tightened my grip on Sarai’s hand as we walked up the stairs.

When we got into the sun, Danyelle smiled.

“I remember when I first met you, Ceon.”

I gritted my teeth and puffed my chest. “I don’t need your pity,” I said. “You don’t need to act like you give a damn about Sarai and me and Fletch and Matt. I already know the truth. And it’s okay. So say what you want to say so I can be done with you.”

The anger flowed out of my mouth in the form of words and tears filled Danyelle’s eyes. Her bottom lip was quivering, and I could see she was struggling not to cry. I stood my ground and feigned indifference. Sarai however did not. She let go of my hand and clung to Danyelle’s side.

“Ceon doesn’t mean it, Danny. He doesn’t mean it!” she cried, in tears herself.

I felt like a fool when the first tear slipped from the corner of Danyelle’s eye and slid down the bridge of her nose. My hand quivered to wipe it away.

“I just wanted to say,” she said, her words coming out in short, gaspy clips, “That I’m sorry. That, th-that I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, a-and that I d-don’t want this to be the end, and th-that—“

She couldn’t continue, and her words became mumbles and tears mingled with them.

I took a step towards her and lifted her chin…I wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks with the pad of my thumb.

“Stop crying,” I whispered. She was still hiccupping, and I wanted to kiss her, kiss her, so badly just then. She was pulling away now, silent. She hugged Sarai and pinched her cheeks fondly, and looked at me again. There was a lump in my throat so large that I could not swallow.

“It’s not over, Danyelle,” I tried, when she was about to turn away.

She only looked at me, her eyes oceany pools of sad.

And then I was kissing her, and her kissing me, and it was nothing but me and her, and sunshine, and light.

And then I felt a breeze go past me quickly, and Danyelle looked, and cried out in a strangled voice.

“Teddy!”
He had been watching us, and he was on his bike now, riding, riding fast in the street, narrowly missing a car, almost too narrowly, almost—

Danyelle screamed.

But Theodore wasn’t down for long, and the car had only clipped him on the leg, but he just got up and continued riding. Not as fast as before, but fast enough, fast enough that we couldn’t see him anymore. And Danyelle stood there, looking out into the distance, looking so alone, and afraid.

And she turned to me, her eyes full of horror, and an inhuman, guttural sound came from my throat, and I took Sarai’s hand and ran in the direction he had ridden, but it was too late, and Theodore was too far, and Theodore was gone.

I never saw him again.

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