Safe And Sound ~Tate Langdon (DISCONTINUED)

0.7

My eyes open and closed slowly. My attention was scattered as I stared at the board. The words seemed to drag into one as I just stared.

“Jean-Louise,” the voice was muffled and static. “Jean-Louise Carter,” Mr. Jensen said sternly, grasping my attention.

“It’s Scout, sir,” I corrected him.

“Don’t correct me. Can you answer this question?” he asked, pointing to the equation on the board.

I slapped my face a little as I dragged my hands down my face, “no sir,” I answered.

Mr. Jensen is a balding man in his late forties. The hair that is on his head is a whitish-grey colour. His belly strains against his shirt, his teeth are horrendous and I have to hold my breath every time he walks past. It’s not that Mr. Jensen wasn’t a nice man; it’s just that he was obviously troubled and lacked sleep, causing him to be grouchy and glorify the “old man” stereotype.

“Maybe you should pay more attention instead of looking at the board like a stunned mullet,” he grumbled.

“Yes sir,” I replied but didn’t remove my hands from my lap. 

He sighed heavily then pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, “you kids need to sleep more. Instead of being on those stupid i-thingies,” he rambled.

I stared up at the clock and revelled in relief that it was one minute until we could leave for the weekend. I lifted my hands and set them on my desk.

Three…Two…One…

The bell rang loud and clear and everyone, including me, moved to pack up our equipment. I set my feet on the floor and slid off the stool, books and pencil case tucked under my arm. When I reached my locker Dom was already waiting for me.

“You’re early,” I noted.

“Get let out of class early.  I haven’t seen Leah around,” he said, cutting to the chase.

“She’s home schooled now. Said something about stress,” I stated.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Scout,” he said angrily.

“I don’t have time for this,” I said then grabbed my bag and walked past him.

“You hurt her. I know you did,” he seethed as he walked beside me.

“I didn’t touch her. In fact, I spoke to her on Wednesday,” I explained and he looked surprised. “Yeah. Met her at this skate park thing and we talked. That’s how I know she left because of stress. Honestly, I’m thinking about doing the same”

“It’s because of Tate, isn’t it? You just want to spend more time with him,” he assumed.

“This has nothing to do with Tate, Dom. I don’t like it here and I would much rather be home schooled again then have to sit in classes and fail because I can’t think straight,” I clarified.

“Okay,” he said softly then we finished the walk to the carpark.

“Took you long enough,” Joseph complained and opened the door.

I sat in the front while Dom had to climb into the very back because Alana was in her car seat, “why’s she here?” Dom asked dad.

“She started day-care today,” I spoke before dad had the chance to. “Don’t you ever read the calendar?” I tested then a small smirk set on my lips as I turned back to face the front.

“Shut up girl genius,” he murmured and that only made my smirk grow. 

The ride home was silent apart from the hum of the radio playing some hit song. When we reached our house I was the first to enter. I said hi to mum as she continued her escapade in peeling off the wallpaper off the murals. When I shut my bedroom door I saw Tate sitting on my bed.

“How do you even get in here?” I asked with a smile.

“Your mum lets me in. We talk sometimes. I think she likes me,” he elucidated with his child-like grin gracing his face.

I smiled back then sat next to him, “Dom won’t get off my back about Leah,” I said with a sigh.

“Hey,” Tate said soothingly as he rubbed the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb. “We don’t need to worry about her anymore,” I looked up at him and returned the smile he was offering me.

“Sorry about the mess,” I apologised as I scanned my bedroom floor.

“It’s alright. My bedroom looks like this a lot,” he chuckled.

“Doesn’t you mum ever wonder where you are? You almost always here and when you are you’re here until late. If I were her I’d be worried,” I explained.

“Even before I met you I would be out until late so she’s probably used to it by now. Now I just have something better to occupy my time with,” he smiled and wrapped one of his arms around me comfortingly.

It was silent for a while before I decided to speak again, “I’ve been having these urges…”

“What are they about?” he asked.

“Like I want to put an axe in the twins’ backs and shove Dom over the railing. Sometimes I feel like smothering Alana with a pillow while she sleeps. I sometimes stop and consider it when I’m given the opportunity. I stand and watch Alana sleep some nights. I have to shove my hands into my pockets so I don’t push Dom while we’re at the top of the stairs. And then there are these…voices-and they’re telling me to do it. I just want them to go away but I can’t make them. But sometimes I don’t want them to go. They’re what help me look deeper into a person. They tell me sus things about a person and it helps me- gives me a sense of power, that I can see things that no one else can,” I wearied. “You think I’m crazy?”

Tate’s grip just tightened around me, “I know you’re crazy,” he said and I felt heaviness in my stomach. “But I’m crazy too so that’s alright”

I shifted to lie down, Tate following suit. He arms enveloped me so that we were in the spooning position, “thank you for being my friend Tate”

“I know what it’s like to be alone and I don’t want you to go through the same thing,” I nestled my head against his arm more.

“Tate…”

“Yeah Scout?”

“I think I like you,” I mumbled.

“I think I like you too,” I heard the glee in his voice and it made me smile. “What’s it like…to be able to reed deeper into someone?”

“Enlightening. You can see more then they offer you and you can also assume more about them,” I explained.

“Do you like it…being able to do that?” he asked and started playing with my hair with one of his hands.

“I do”

“Did you do it to me?” he inquired.

“I do it to everyone”

“What did you think about me?”

“I thought you looked tired and…lost”

“Lost?” he asked in amusement.

“Yes. What does my father say? You can a lot about a person by their eyes…I think that’s it. I don’t know anymore. I stopped listening to his nonsense long ago”

“Let me see your eyes,” he politely demanded.

I rolled over to face him, his hand moving from my cheek to my waist. I peered up at him through my lashes. He was studying me again but his focus was my eyes.

“To me you look…scared- yet hopeful”

“Is that so?” I asked with a smile.

“Yes. Scared about the urges and voices but hopeful that you can beat them”

“That’s pretty accurate, Tate”

“That’s one of the things I like about you, you always have hope”

“Everybody needs hope Tate. If you don’t have hope then you’re wishing into an empty void”

My eyes fluttered closed as he tilted my chin up and connected our lips.