˗ˏˋOur Differences Sequelˊˎ˗

-28-

[ Third Person POV ]

14 years ago

The skies were a deep shade of blue, and the clouds were crisp and distinct— similar to what you'd see in a child's coloring book.
The smell of fresh cut grass wafted through the outdoor air of the elementary school playground. Children ran in every direction, carefree and innocent, happy to be finishing the long week of school and start the weekend.

Everybody loved Fridays.

"Why can't you come to my house this weekend??" Dylan asked in a pleading tone.
"We could just take you to the soccer tournament on Saturday. And your Mom could take you home after that. Or you could stay the night again. My Dad doesn't make us go to church if we have a friend over."

Devin shrugged.
"My Mom said I can't go. I think she's mad that I didn't score any in our last game."

"What if you tell her that my Mom said it's okay? Maybe she'll let you go." Dylan suggested, while walking towards a group of little girls.

Dylan, a mischievous boy, loved to "flirt" with the girls on the playground. If he wasn't actually playing with the boys, he was terrorizing the girls.

"Eat dirt, muffy!" he threw a handful of playground soil at a small girl's head, landing it directly in her hair.

She let out a scream, immediately trying to get the dirt out of her hair, while Dylan smirked to himself proudly. This was the same girl that he used to poke with pencils in Mrs. Bennett's class and pull her ponytails until Mrs. Bennett moved him to the front of the room for his disturbance and behavioral issues. Even then, he couldn't resist turning around constantly to look at her.

His young, naive seven year old self was, in simple terms, 'in love' with Alexis Thornhill. But he pretended to hate her because that's the only thing that seven year old boys know to do. Terrorize little girls.

The other girls gasped when he threw dirt at her, immediately turning to the dirt covered little girl who was bawling her eyes out. They started brushing the dirt out of her hair quickly, and apologizing on behalf of Dylan Powell, who had never genuinely apologized before in his life.

"You're a bully!" one girl shouted, pointing her finger at Dylan accusingly.
"I'm telling Mrs. Bennett!"

Instinctively, Dylan took off running to the other side of the playground, hiding under the slide with Devin.

Devin Smalls was surprisingly timid in his youth. He was quiet, intelligent, and observant, and rarely spoke to anyone but Dylan. He had his own behavioral problems that were mostly out of his control— repeating graphic and aggressive things that he had seen in his own home on a daily basis. He lacked sympathy for others as a child. Teachers never questioned his behavior— most just assumed that he had emotional development issues and moved on.

But he was only an innocent boy. He didn't know any better. It was rare that he spoke to his teachers, or any adults for that matter. Dylan was like a shield in his eyes. He had confidence that Devin didn't have. He had a great family too.

The whistle blew signaling that recess was over. Devin went to stand up to go back inside with everyone, but Dylan grabbed him and made him sit back down underneath the slide.

"I can't go in." he said, while looking around in a panic.
"I'll get in trouble again. I'm already on red today."

The boys both sat there silently, trying to not be in anyones line of sight. Devin knew that he should go inside, but he had to stay with Dylan. He always stays with Dylan.

"Did they all go back inside?" Dylan whispered, glancing through the crack between the slide and the playground equipment that they were situated under.