Chapter Eight

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♔ Chapter Eight ♔           

I hadn't left my room for the whole of the weekend, not since I'd watched as Isaac grabbed all of his stuff and stormed out. I knew I'd fucked up, but the worst part was that I had no idea how to make it up to him. It was a desperate thing that I'd done, and we both knew it. I just wasn't ready to face the world, not after all of that. I just wanted to hide away under the covers of my bed, masked in darkness, alone.

It would all be fine, I'd tell myself, even though I knew it wasn't true. It wouldn't be fine because he hated me, and that was the last thing that I wanted. I deserved the marks on my wrist. At least he was gentle. He could have done worse. He probably should have done worse.

I just wanted him to like me, but who would ever want to like me? I was a depressing loner boy that skulked in the shadows and never really spoke. I had no real friends to speak of, other than Hebe, who was mad at me for stupid reasons, and Mary. But Mary hardly even counted as a friend. She was just my lab partner in biology. It was a forced relationship, at best.

Sooner or later, Isaac would realise that I clearly wasn't worth his time, and he'd drop me. He'd go back to Hebe and we'd both forget about us, if there would ever have been an us. But I knew I'd never be able to forget about us, because he was my first, and you always remember you first. Whether it was bad or good, sloppy, awkward, stupid, cute, whatever it was, it stuck with you for life. There was no easily getting rid of it, or getting rid of him.

Isaac, and all of those things that we did together, would be stuck with me forever, and I couldn't change that. I didn't even want to change that. I wanted to cherish it, cherish every moment we had together like it was our last, because he could move passed me any day now and I'd be the one left behind.

My mum knew something was up. It was easy to tell with her. She knew me well enough to know when I was acting out of the ordinary, but I doubt she would have been able to find out why. She was clever, but not clever enough to connect the dots. Usually on weekends, we would sit up together and watch lame films, mainly because neither of us had anywhere important to be or anyone special to spend our weekends with, other than each-other. So when I didn't leave my room for the whole weekend, she immediately got suspicious.

She'd pressed her way into my room, despite my warnings that I wasn't decent and that I was fine and that she could just leave me alone.

"Tomasz, you clearly aren't fine. I can tell these things, you know, I'm your mother, there isn't much that you can hide from your mother." Her voice was collected, but worried. I knew it was coming from the goodness of her heart, but I just wanted to be left alone, I just wanted to sit in my room, in the dark, and soak up my embarrassment and face reality. I didn't need her there, and I didn't want her there.

"I really am fine, Mum. Please. Just, just leave me alone," I murmured. It was kind of snappy, but I couldn't take it back. I knew biting at her like that would only end up making her more concerned, I felt stupid.

"Tom," she started, "talk to me." She'd strolled completely into the room and planted herself comfortably on the bottom of the bed, while I had been cocooned inside the deepest folds of my quilt for the last few hours of my Sunday. I'd spent Saturday exactly the same, locked away, tired but not tired, sometimes sleeping, other times just staring out and thinking. I felt so stupid, I didn't know what I was doing, how I never got bored, but time just droned on effortlessly, and I'd hardly even moved. Like life was passing me by and all I could do was watch.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked her, hiding my face under the covers. I didn't want anyone seeing me, I knew I'd have bags under my eyes, I knew my whole face would look fucked up and ugly, and my hair would be sticking everywhere. I just wanted to hide away and be forgotten about.

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