Paradox

Chapter Fifteen

O C E A N

"What do you want!" I hissed angrily, the fear and confusion bubbling beneath my skin. Again I found myself trapped in a closet and for what? To get a few seconds in heaven? It's stupid. Outside I could hear the footsteps of students disappearing as they made their way to class, but that did not bother him. The only thing that seemed to annoy him was being associated with me, "Do I need to spell it out for you- forget it, you probably can't even spell."

His face dropped, rock eyes softened and I swear for at a glimpse, he looked upset, "I-, Ocean, please don't tell any-"

"I get it," I snapped, brushing past him, but he blocked my way. I looked up at him and said coldy, "I know how it goes. You beg me to hangout outside and then spit on me, calling me a disgusting f** at school. Go to your girlfriend, Slater. Go to your friends," I stared directly in his eyes and let the last part come out as a steady whisper, "Go talk to your father."

"Do you think you're funny?" Slater closed up in my face, his neck decorated with veins and his fingers glued tightly together, "Do you even have a father, huh? Don't you ever talk about my family, you piece of shit. I'll make sure your life is a living hell-"

"Do it."

*
After I left Slater in the closet, I could not help, but wipe the unwanted tears from the corners of my eyes as I rushed to maths class. I did not bother knocking and planned on slipping undetected into class, but Mr Jacobs was not his usual understanding self. He leaned against his desk and folded his arms, "Ocean, why are you late?"

I breathed in, staring at my shoes and gave a half assed excuse, "I showed a freshman where the office was, sir."

Mr Jacobs did not reply and turned his attention back to the class, I took it as an opportunity to sit at my desk, but then a certain person waltzed in causing me to internally groan, "Mr Romano, where were you?" Romano. He did not use his first name. I wish I could only think about him as Romano; a blank new student who would occasionally ask me to borrow a pencil or to copy my homework. But no, I thought of him as Slater Romano. Anything except a white page.

Slater did not even look at the teacher, instead he mumble a reason and went to sit down next to one of his dumb friends. One of those friends muttered a phrase directed at me, "Slater, did that freak keep you hostage, huh? Is that why you were late? Just say if he's bothering you, we'll deal with him."

It did not even faze me, I focused on finishing my math homework which I could not finish last night. The sky was crying on the otherside of the window, just like how I currently felt. Cold and windy. I just wanted to curl up inside of my bed and not feel for a second. That's it, "Shut the fuck up. I don't need you to fight my battles for me," Slater countered out of the blue with his cheek resting on his palm, "The fuck you looking at?" He asked his friend again, but he received no answer, "Yeah that's what I thought."

*
Noah. I wondered what she was up to. She was meeting her lawyer today. Hopefully it was not an incompetent, overworked public defender, but rather someone who believed in justice for all. The last bell rang, signalling the end of the school day, lighting a bit of excitement inside of me which meant I was one step closer to comfortably talk to Will and of course deal with the whole stepdad thing. I shoved my thick english textbook in my backpck and hurried to the door, that was until Tori stopped me, "River? I heard both you and Slater came late to class. Is he gay?"

"What?" My eyebrows came together as I became annoyed, "I don't even know him."

She came closer, "Okay, but Jessica told Laura who told me, she saw you get into his car."

Jesus, since when did people have their eyes glued on me? I was used to fading into the background of every crowd that I was in and I prefered it like that, "I just told you, I don't know him, ask him yourself for all I care." Tori left it at that and allowed me to actually leave as if she was my parol officer.

Ding.

My phone buzzed in my pants, I quickly glanced at it while walking through the gate so that I could be in time for the bus. It was Will, asking how my day went. I was tempted to vent, scream and cry, but all I texted back: that it was a normal day. Will listened, always, but it was less than ideal, because I desperately wanted to meet up. That could only happen if I did not scare him away. Why did he have to live in Kansas? Every night he filled my thoughts and dreams. In less than a year he would attened NYU and we would be happy, away from our toxic families and expectations. We would hang out with Noah and whoever she was dating at that time.

We would be happy.

Will and I texted back and forth, talking about our desires to see each other, our futures and his terrible day. He did not share the specific details, but it obviously bothered him more than he wanted me to know. I did not pry any further and told him we'd talk later tonight. I walked up the sketchy steps of our apartment, counting the steps until I reached our floor. Forty steps. I smiled to myself. Everyday after school I counted them and everytime they ended on the number. I liked that it never changed, it was constant and concrete.

Thirty eight.

Thirty nine.

Forty.

Forty one. Forty one? I found myself distracted by his face, his presence and accidently added another number to the staircase theory. My theory was flawed, because even now, nothing was concrete- there he was. Standing at one of the doors near my own. Like he belonged there. Forty one. I tried fighting the slight tug of my lips and pushed my fingers through my hair, "What are you doing here?"

He pushed his hands in his pants and lifted up his shoulders, "Invite me in?" Even if I wanted to decline, it was pouring outside and not safe to drive. I walked past him to our apartment and wiggled the key in the lock. My mother was out somewhere being herself and stepdaddy probably on how to catch a predator. How fitting. The place was in decent shape, only a few beer cans robbed the table of its cleanliness.

"What do you want?" I placed a towel on the table for him and rubbed my own hair with another one to get the moisture out. It was all so weird for me. Slater being in my house. How did he even  know where I lived?

"I want to talk," He stammered and slowly glided the towel over the side of his head. His light brown eyelashes covered his eyes as he closed them, briefly, and then went back to me, "I shouldn't have been such a dick to you or force you to not even mention my name. It's fucked up." The day kept throwing suprises at me, "Truth is...I-" He switched, just like that, "I need you- to help me with  my work."

I shrugged, "Yeah, like I said the first day we offically met, I'm doing this for me, so don't worry."

"Okay."

"Was there anything else?"

"Yeah, uh, there's like this stupid Halloween party on friday. Caleb's gonna be there, so you should probably go."

*