It Started With A Wrong Number ✯

9. Lost Boy

Lost Boy - Ruth B. ^

"I think we've done pretty well on this," Aaron says.

It's Friday, and the last chance for us to finish the report.

Over the three days we were given, I've noticed that I feel more comfortable around Aaron. I can talk to him without feeling so scared. Sure, some nerves still lurk, but not as many as before. Aaron's keeps his guard down around me, showing me that idiotic kid he's hid from the world.

It feels good, to know he trusts me enough to show me that side of himself, the one he doesn't even show his best friends.

He tries to keep them from bullying me too. He doesn't tell them the real reason why he doesn't want me hurt, he just makes excuses like not enough time, or too tired, but either way, I'm glad I can get through the day without bullying at school.

"Oi, AH, don't fly away from me now." I blink, seeing Aaron snapping his fingers by my face. He grins, "there we go. You zone out a lot, you know that?"

I nod. "Maladaptive daydreaming. I think I have it. Mostly means I daydream a lot."

"What about?" He asks curiously.

"Just thinking this time," I reply. I look at the document we have our report typed up on. "How are we ending it? We just need the conclusion."

Aaron thinks for a few seconds, then he grins. "I got it."

He starts typing, fingers quickly brushing over the keys. I watch the screen, wanting to see what he's typing.

So that's some info about Fiji. Maybe you learned something about Fiji you didn't know before, or now you want to go there for a vacation to get away from school. I know I want to.

"Aaron, you can't add that!" I say.

I'm glad we're the only ones working in the classroom today. Apparently everyone likes working in the hall. I don't understand why they'd rather sit on the ground than a chair, but OK.

"And why not?" Aaron retorts, smirking.

"Because that's not formal!"

"Then how's this?"

Or now the reader wants to go there for a vacation to get away from school. One knows one wants to.

I shake my head. "Better but still no."

"Skye, you're no fun," Aaron whines.

"I haven't had fun in years," I huff.

"Please don't remind me." He grimaces. "I'm sorry, OK. I didn't know you're so alone and your mom doesn't accept you."

"Please remind me," I say, scowling at the thought of my loneliness and horrible mother. "And I know you didn't know. I don't go shouting it around."

Aaron nods, gazing at me guiltily. "Your mom doesn't... Hurt you, does she? Just ignore you?"

"No, why?" I say, lying smoothly.

He shrugs. "I read a lot of gay teen fiction. Abuse is something that comes up more than I like, whether it's because the character's sexuality, or the parents are just assholes."

I hesitate, caught a little off guard. I shake my head, focusing on the report. Seeing me looking at the laptop screen, Aaron grins again and starts typing.

Whether you learned something or you didn't, I hope you go die.

"Aaron Mitchell, no!" I say, whacking him.

"Skye Vernoy, yes!" he laughs, ducking as I aim another slap at his head.

"You boys alright in here?"

We both look to see Mrs. Cameron standing in the doorway, a faint smile on her lips.

Aaron nods. "Yeah. We're just finishing the conclusion."

The teacher nods and heads back out into the hall to check on the rest of the class.

I send my partner a playful glare, and he grins.

"You know, I like this side of you, Skye," He says.

I pause. I have been acting more open towards him, more than I thought I was. He's tearing down my walls faster than I realized.

I'm not sure if it's a good thing, or a bad thing.

⚬⚬⚬

"AH, wait up!"

I turn, seeing Aaron jogging over to me.

It's the end of the day. The buses just left, and though some people stayed for clubs or team practice, or to get help in classes, the halls are mostly empty. No one but ghosts around to see Aaron acting nice with me.

"Hey Pedo Bear," I say, giving him a small, mischievous grin.

He huffs. "You need to find a different nickname for me. Anyway, can I walk with you?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Where are your friends?"

Aaron shrugs. "Damon and Nic take the bus, and Jaxon wasn't here today. Now let's go."

"Eager to get home?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No, but eager to get out of here."

We walk out of the school together, into the cool winter air. I keep one earbud in, holding the other.

"So, I was wondering if you'd want to come over to my house tomorrow," Aaron says, looking at the ground.

"I would, but I doubt I'd be allowed to," I reply. "I'll ask my Mom."

Aaron nods, and we lapse back into silence.

I sigh softly, feeling calmed as my music plays. I start humming softly, which soon turns to soft singing.

"I am a Lost Boy from Neverland
Usually hanging out with Peter Pan and
And when we're bored we play in the Woods
Always on the run from Captain Hook
"Run, run Lost Boy," they say to me
Away from all of reality
Neverland is home to Lost Boys like me
And Lost Boys like me are free
Neverland is home to Lost Boys like me
And Lost Boys like me are free"

"You're a good singer," Aaron says.

I startle, having forgotten he was with me. I guess I'm just so used to walking home alone, I don't really think twice about singing to myself.

I look down, blushing. I never liked letting anyone hear me sing, even before everything that happened to me.

Aaron stops walking and tilts my head up to look at him. "Don't be embarrassed, Skye. Your voice is amazing."

I only blush harder, avoiding looking at his face. Look at the sky, the pavement, over this shoulder, anywhere but his face.

"Hey." Aaron flicks my temple softly, "look at me, Vernoy." Still blushing, I let my eyes meet his. "I mean it, Skye, your voice sounds beautiful. I'd love to hear you sing more."

I groan, and pull away, looking down again, knowing I'm blushing even harder than I though possible. My whole face is probably red. Aaron chuckles, wrapping his arm around my shoulders lightly, loose enough for me to know that I could pull away easily and he wouldn't complain. He's probably seen my hesitation towards touch, and is trying to push me out of my comfort zone slightly.

Asshole, I will stay right where I am in my comfort zone, thank you very much. But it does feel kinda nice. To have someone I can sort of trust. A friend, that I don't think will leave.

I wonder how long it'll last.