On the Run

Tearing Us Apart

(A/N hi! I had to write an essay for my creative writing class, and decided to write another book based off of that. I'll let you know when I publish it, so you can check it out!
I also found pictures for each of the main characters. I'll post them all in the next few chapters except for Kat's, because you don't know what he looks like yet. When you do, I'll be sure to post the picture because I already have one for him.
Feel free to give me lots of criticism; I would really appreciate it. I promise I won't take offense unless you completely diss me and my book. That might ruin my day.
Okay, here's about how I imagined Jason and Brad (it's as good as Google gets), except I literally have no idea what these guys' eye colors are, but they're supposed to be blue. As for which one's which...well, let your imagination run wild-as wild as it can when you're deciding which character is which.
Even though this is probably unnecessary, I'm going to say that I have no authority over these people and that I'm only using their pictures for entertaining purposes.
This chapter and the next, which-SPOILER-is called Falling Out, are both just filler chapters, because I've planned out the fifth chapter. Sorry about them being so short!
And one more thing. I wasn't planning on having much more than ten chapters for this book, because I have much in mind for its sequel. Anyway, I'll shut up now; enjoy the chapter!)

A week has passed since we last saw Kat. We all had things to ask him, especially Brad.

When I told him about the music, he got really excited. "That means that he understands about art, like I do!"

I shrugged. "I don't think it's quite the same thing, but knock yourself out."

On the way home from school, we finally saw Kat. He was looking at a projection from the watch. Instead of the music, though, there was a blond boy on the screen. We got a little closer to try and hear their conversation.

"...no, Sam, I've got it. You don't need to come."

The blond boy, Sam, sighed. "Kay-"

"Shh!" Kat sounded anxious to keep him quiet. "It's Kat."

He looked confused. "Kat? This isn't like the-"

"Shut up, Sam!"

"You shut up! I can't even see your face!"

Kat sighed. "It's for the best." He shut off the projection. After a few wavering breaths, he sank down against the wall.

"Are you okay?" Tatum crouched down beside him.

Kat screamed and immediately backed away. "How much did you hear?"

"Something about not needing to come?" Matt questioned, trying to subtly pressure him into explaining.

Instead, he sighed with relief. "Good."

"What were you guys talking about?" Matt had apparently decided to take a different approach.

"Not a lot," he said. "He's an old friend of mine, and wanted to help me with a...situation." He was definitely unsure of himself, and it made us all a little uneasy.

Matt was trying not to metaphorically explode with annoyance. "What kind of situation?"

"Why are you suddenly being so nosy?" Kat calmly retorted.

Matt blushed out of embarrassment. "I...um..."

"That's what I thought," he muttered. "But I'm not in the mood for talking; would you just leave me alone?" With that, he turned the corner and disappeared from my line of sight.

"What is with him?" Matt groaned. "He's almost as bad as when we met him."

"You know, he could still be struggling with his parents' death," Miles said thoughtfully. "Eight years is a long time for someone that young."

"You're only a year older!" Matt protested. "Quit being so philosophical!"

"Break it up." Smith both looked and sounded extremely bored. "You can continue your sissy fight later." Matt looked furious while Miles seemed to calm down a little bit.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going home. I'll see you guys later." Brad quickly followed me.

"What do you think he's hiding?" Brad quietly asked me, as if he were scared Kat himself was watching.

I shrugged. "I don't know, and I don't care."

"Dude, he's your friend too," Brad told me. "Don't you care enough about him?"

I sighed. "It's not that. I just don't want to know. If he doesn't want to tell us, he doesn't need to. Do you need a better explanation?"

He shook his head and sighed. "You're a strange one, Jason. You don't think like the rest of us, do you?"

Confused by his question, I looked away. "Miles was saying the same thing, in a way."

"Not like that," he said. "He didn't state a definite opinion."

"So what?" I cried in frustration. "Do I have to side with you every time? Brad, we're two different people! I don't care enough about your photography to be completely obsessed over it; you do. I respect that; I'm willing to respect your decisions, but I don't want to side with them each time. I want to make my own." I stormed off, fed up with the conversation.

I was still relatively upset when I walked into the house. I'd taken the long way home, so Brad was there first. He eyed me contemptuously as he scrolled through photos on his camera.

Dad, noticing the tension between us, made a point to talk to me before I made it to my room. "Hey, Jason! How was your day?"

"Cruddy," I replied calmly. I didn't want to antagonize neither Brad nor myself.

I was surprised at how easily he crumpled. "Honey!" He called into the kitchen. "Come talk to the boys, I have...fish tanks to clean." He quickly ran back to his room.

I rolled my eyes. We didn't own any fish, much less a fish tank. Mom came in soon after, but something was off.

"Hi, sweeties!" That threw me off immediately. Despite our previous argument, Brad instantly forgave me and gave me a confused look as our mom proceeded in ruffling his hair. He was wondering the same thing I was.

"Mom?" I questioned cautiously. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Just peachy, darling!" She ruffled my hair next. I returned Brad's unspoken question with a crazy assumption: she was going insane. His eyes widened in realization.

"Hey, Mom," Brad piped up. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course! What is it?"

"Could you go find my Nike socks? They're in the garage." She nodded and raced off.

"Nike socks?" I questioned. Neither of us owned a pair.

He shrugged. "It was the first thing I thought of. Now come on; we're packing our bags."

"Wait a moment," I stopped him so my brain could catch up. Realization quickly dawned on me. "We're running away?!"

"What else should we do, then?" Brad cried. He wasn't angry with me, but pleading. I was the one with the ideas, according to him.

"Maybe she's just tipsy," I suggested slowly. Neither of us believed me, but I didn't want to just leave. "We'll wait a few days. To see what happens. This will be tearing us apart if we aren't careful."

He nodded in firm agreement, despite his earlier statement. We went to bed wondering how the next few days were going to go.