Beautifully Damaged

10. Respect

 It was easier now, dealing with all the stares and a muffled whisper of people too preoccupied with judging me than daring to live their own lives. This town was becoming used to my strange appearance and gentle giant of a companion, or it seemed to as considerably less people openly stared. The mixed smell of expensive perfumes, fried food-court food and new clothes danced around me. Bear trotted alongside me, keeping a watchful eye out yet appearing completely relaxed.

The strangest and simplest things inspired joy in me. For example, I held in my hands something so novel to the rest of the world, but it seemed so important and new to me. I wondered if I had loved music before. Well, before I had woken up without a memory.

Seeing a bench sitting in the middle of the hallway, I sat down and peeled back the layers of white cardboard. Smooth, clean metal smiled up at me.

"You look like you just won the lottery," He said, welcoming himself to the bench and my company.

"I haven't," I answered, letting Bear push his way between us, "What are you doing here?" Sliding the iPod into its case, I looked up at him and his unbearably dark eyes.

"It's Saturday, what aren't I doing here?" Drake joked, throwing me an achingly friendly smile.

Where I had once felt a mysterious draw to him, I felt an intolerable fury towards him. How could he not know that I'd worry over him, one of my few friends in this life, if he refused to acknowledge my presence suddenly? His behavior had repeatedly found its way into my thoughts during classes yesterday and even now. Unable to trust myself to answer civilly, I turned my eyes away from him and concentrated on slipping my precious box into its bag.

"Blaise?" Confusion and hurt painted his words and only served to fuel my own anger and injury further.

"What do you want me to say, Drake?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, "That I'm sorry because I have no idea what to say to you?" In that moment, I wanted my words to hurt him, to make him feel the loss I felt everyday. It wasn't completely fair on him, but I couldn't hold it in anymore.

He stared at me, his eyes dark pools of endless black, and chose to say nothing.

Logic and emotion warred inside me, forcing me to be quiet for a little longer. I was mad at him, but I was angrier that I didn't know who I really was or anything else about myself. Taking a deep breath, I looked down at my empty hands.

"You got a new iPod?" Drake asked softly, out of the blue.

Startled, I looked up at him, "Uh, yeah I did," The careful, soft tone in his voice muddled my thoughts and had me stumbling over my words.

"What type of music do you like?"

Again, the strange normality of the question had me hesitate, "I don't know, if it's a good song, I don't mind what genre it is," I looked out at him from under my silvery blonde hair, "I think I prefer variations of Rock."

Drake looked away from me, making a point of casting his intense gaze elsewhere, "Cool."

His indifference to me was amazing, stunning and overall bizarre. The lack of fury in me rekindled the draw I felt toward him, and I recognized it now: curiosity.

"Blaise, you have to stop staring at me. It's getting embarrassing."

I felt flames lick at my face as I snapped my attention away from him, "I was not."

His blindingly white smile left me slightly breathless, "It's alright. Deny it, I know the truth," Drake winked, amusement in his eyes.

I shoved him to hide the redness in my face but I could disguise my smile, "You're such a jerk."