got to learn the golden rule

[edgeofyourseat]

He was right; Delaney Sr. gave him ten kinds of hell. He's off school for another week.

He's not supposed to be back at school by the end of it, but he can't stand the inside of his fucking house any longer, so he goes. He figures the schoolyard is the last place anybody will look for him, so he parks himself in the shade of a nice big tree and gets less uncomfortable. Actual comfort is not really an option.

Comments

[edgeofyourseat]

Time passes.



Laney appears to fall asleep. It is not a particularly restful nap, but he is definitely making sounds consistent with not being awake anymore.

[tofightinjustice]

Once she's certain he's asleep, she starts to make her way down towards the ground -- very slow and very careful.

[edgeofyourseat]

Laney remains asleep!

But not too long after she reaches ground level, he rolls over onto that rock from earlier and wakes with a groan.

[tofightinjustice]

Bryce is leaning against the trunk of the tree.

"What happened to you?"

[edgeofyourseat]

He squints up at her.

"Mornin', sunshine," he mumbles, despite the fact that it is two in the afternoon. "What do you care?"

[tofightinjustice]

Suspicious: "Did you get shot again?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Nah, I got beat up." He smiles an unavoidably crooked smile. "For variety."

[tofightinjustice]

"You do that a lot."

[edgeofyourseat]

"It's fun."

He cocks his head.

"You still haven't told my why you care," he points out.

[tofightinjustice]

She shrugs, wrinkling her nose.

"I'm just curious, okay?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Okay," he says agreeably.

"Can you keep a secret?"

[tofightinjustice]

". . . Yeah."

[edgeofyourseat]

"I got arrested," he says casually, "and my dad beat me up for it."

Well, if she was curious!

[tofightinjustice]

"--Your dad beat you up?" she repeats, shocked.

[edgeofyourseat]

"Yep. Don't spread it around." He grins, wry, with a hard edge to it. "Pretty sure you can guess what happens if he finds out I've been telling tales."

[tofightinjustice]

"Oh my god," Bryce breathes. "Why haven't you told the police?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Why do you think telling the police would help? 'Cause trust me on this, I speak from painful experience, it won't."

[tofightinjustice]

"But they're supposed to help. They could, like, put you in protective custody or whatever."

[edgeofyourseat]

"Look, I tried," he says, flatly now. "I tried when I wasn't an eighteen-year-old with an arrest record."

[tofightinjustice]

"Well, can't you leave if you're eighteen?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Oh, I'm going to," he says. "One'a these days."

[tofightinjustice]

She opens her mouth -- then shuts it and shakes her head.

"Okay."

[edgeofyourseat]

"...Anyway." He waves a hand. "Don't worry about little old me. I'll deal. I'm just cranky right now 'cause I feel like I got run over by a truck."

[tofightinjustice]

"You look like you did, too."

[edgeofyourseat]

"I'm not at my sexiest," he admits, with a grin that scrunches up the stitches beside his mouth.

[tofightinjustice]

Bryce rolls her eyes.

"Just so you know, there's a bunch of people at school who think you're dead, so you should, like, stop by."

[edgeofyourseat]

"I'm here, ain't I?"

[tofightinjustice]

"Yeah, you're out here."

[edgeofyourseat]

He tosses her a grin.

"Maybe I should go get in a fight. Then they'll really know I'm back."

[tofightinjustice]

Bryce huffs and rolls her eyes.

"Whatever," she says, turning to go. "Congratulations on not being dead."

[edgeofyourseat]

"Thanks," he calls after her, but he doesn't follow.