The Bad Boy is a King

Day 7.

Wednesday.

I heard the all too familiar sound of Thomas hitting a rock against my window.  This time I was a little more worried because my parents were home but this didn't stop him.  I sighed and waved at him to go around the front.  Thomas grinned and disappeared from the view of my window.  I stared down at my outfit, I was wearing grey shorts with a dark blue football shirt.  I quickly went to the bathroom and ran a brush through my hair before tip toeing downstairs.  I opened the door and looked for Thomas.

"Thomas?" I whisper shouted.  It was pitch black outside except for the street lights scattered down and up the street.

"Over here."

I walked outside the door and tried to find him.  "What are -"

"I miss you," he slurred and wrapped his arms around me.

"Let me- go- suffocating me," I struggled.

Thomas frowned but let me go.  "Ba-"

"No, we're going inside and to sleep."

He took my hand which I let go of.  "Why are you holding my hand?"

He tried to take my hand again.  "Because it looks soft."

I rolled my eyes and gave in to it.  "Fine just shut up, will you?  My parents are sleeping and they're only here this -"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I'm sorry."

"Thomas, for what?" I asked again as we slowly walked upstairs.

He didn't say anything but instead looked sad.  We finally reached my room.

"I'll sleep on the floor."

"You can sleep on my bed.  We've been doing that every time you've came over."  I sat down on my bed while he stood.

"I know you don't like -"

"What is this?"  I asked him and turned on a lamp besides my bed.  "Your cheek is bleeding.  Come here."

I took out my first aid kit from under my bed.  I bought one the last time we were at the store for this matter.  And told Thomas to sit on the bed next to me.

"Why do you keep getting hurt and come to my house at strange hours in the night or morning?"

He didn't say anything so I decided to leave it be.  I took out the astringent and put some on a cotton ball before wiping it over his cheek.  The cut looked deep almost as if a knife had sliced it.  Not knowing what else to do, I put some cloth and then a bandaid over it.

"Thank you, Doctor."

I smiled.  "Now, go to bed."

"Where should-"

"Just sleep on my bed and I'll go get you some clothes."  I went to my closet and grabbed adidas sweats that were too big for me and Wes' black football shirt.  I closed the doors and then tossed him the clothes.

---

"Yo teach," Thomas called, not even bother to raise his hand.  He sat backwards, facing the back of his chair with the back facing the front of my desk.  River and Jake pulled a chair on either side of him.  Anthony sat next to me and we were supposed to be working on our papers but the boys didn't.

"Yes, Mr. Parker?"  Mr. Maddison sighed.

"I need help."

"With what?"

"My life.  I'm stuck in this prison."

The class erupted into fits of laughter.

"Please do your work, Thomas."

"I'd rather get a zero.  I'm already failing."  That was a lie.  Why does he act like he's not smart at all?  When he clearly is.

Mr. Maddison's eyebrows rose.  "Thomas, an A is not considered-"

"I know.  I'll never get an A in this class.  Thanks for ruining my dreams," he grumbled.

Mr. Maddison rolled his eyes and went back up to sit at his desk