graffiti (completed)

Eleven.

"You can't just up and hit people, Casey," Melodie said, hands wrapped around the steering wheel as she gave me a quick glance, "That's not how you solve problems."

I didn't reply, looking at the small shops and large houses that we passed by. I was a problem child. She decided to drive me to school, the morning after the meeting with the headmaster, and I knew why; she wanted to lecture me. I turned off the phone I had just to avoid that from anyone else. Of course, I couldn't avoid someone who lived in the same house as me.

"I understand that he harassed you, and that you felt violated," she continued, "but it would've been better to tell an adult. If that didn't work, tell the headmaster too."

"I'm not in preschool," I replied, my tone irritated, "I know what you're supposed to do. I wanted to handle stuff on my own, and that's what I did."

"You can't do that, Casey," she said, shaking her head, a hint of disappointment in her tone, "You can't always take your way out of things. There are rules in place, and you have to follow them."

"Well, I've been taking my way out of things for six years, and I've been doing pretty well."

She sighed, and for a while, there was no sound, except for the faint hum of the car's engine. When she stopped the car in front of the school, she finally decided to talk again.

"Listen, I know you like to do things alone, by yourself. But sometimes, its better to get help from other people. If you want to adjust here, or anywhere, you need to learn to ask for help sometimes, okay?"

She put her hand on my shoulder, and I could feel her eyes on me. "I'm not asking you to be dependent. I'm just asking you to be open."

I subtly shrugged her hand off of my shoulder, opening the door and preparing to step out.

"Love you."

My shoulders tensed at the sound of her words. I wasn't prepared for them, and I found my brain frantically searching for something to say.

"Mm." I hummed, getting put of the car and closing the door.

Of course, I knew she wasn't the only person who'd give me advice I didn't need today.

. . .

The cafeteria was bustling, as usual; conversations all meshed together with the sounds of trays and eating. Caleb, Ricky, and Drew were all sitting at the table already, and Drew was ready to speak as soon as I sat down. I expected scolding, and huffed, looking at the ceiling.

"So, are you coming next weekend?" Drew asked, to my surprise.

I blinked. "To what?"

"You know, the drive with Emma and us? We do it every other week. Not just the city, but around town. Chill crap."

"Probably not," I said, poking at my lunch with a fork, "I've got plans."

"What plans?"

"Melodie wants to spend more time with me," I spoke, ending the conversation.

There was a general pause at the table, Drew focusing on his lunch, Ricky having headphones in his ears, and Caleb going to some other table to converse.

"Hey, what the hell was that yesterday?" he said as I came back from throwing out my lunch, finally starting the lecture.

"What?" I asked, hands in my pockets.

"You know what I'm talking about. With the stick."

"I was violated. I fought back." I said, shrugging.