「breathe me」| Johnnyboy

t h e m i d d l e .

School was pretty relaxing. That sounds weird to say, even to me. Maybe I should rephrase that — school is my escape from my parents, which is relaxing. No matter how nice my mom was when I woke up, there was no doubt in my mind that her charade would end soon. It always did.

The day was almost over. Okay, kind of. It was half over, so that's the same thing. We have six class periods, unless there's an assembly, and I was in third. Lunch was next, and that meant I had less to worry about when I got home. I wasn't the greatest in Biology — hence why I was a Jounior, taking a Freshman science class. But, I got things done decently. Whether I'd remember them when end of the year exams came around, I didn't know. The answer was probably no, though.

"Hey, do you know what the homework is? I didn't really hear Mrs. Bickson, and I can't see the board." The boy in front of me had whirled his body to face me completely. He had long hair — longer than mine, actually, which was pretty shocking. I really needed to get a haircut at some point. Hastily, I flipped the pages of my notebook, humming in thought as my eyes scanned it.

"Yeah, here." I answered finally, meeting his gaze as I lifted my composition book from the desk and handed it over. I'd written the pages down, as well as the questions we were to answer. It was due tomorrow, something I also wrote. Though that was in smaller handwriting, at the corner of the paper beside my name. He flashed me a relieved smile, greenish-gray eyes seeming to brighten more than they already were. His hair was a deep auburn-brown, which suited his complexion pretty well. He was good looking, I had to admit.

"Thanks." He placed my paper on his desk, copying what I had written quickly before returning it. "You're a lifesaver, dude." I laughed lightly at this, and if I didn't imagine it my cheeks heated up. I knew it was a casual thing to say, maybe even something he said all of the time, but no one had ever said that to me.

"I-it's really n-no problem." Talking to him had me flustered, and I found myself shaking my head absentmindedly.

"Hey, you're Johnny, aren't 'ya?" My full name was Jonathan, but even I didn't refer to myself as that. I nodded my head in a way of replying, hoping the next time I spoke wouldn't come out as a stutter. "You're really neat. Handwriting and all. I mean, you even put when this has to be turned in, and I'm sure she didn't tell us to do that." He laughed without a hint of mockery, but I couldn't tell why. It was times like these that mind reading would've been really cool. This time, and I was sure, my entire face heated up. I had to be thankful that I was tan, or else he'd have probably laughed at me. That wouldn't have been too much of a mood booster.

"Your name's Ponyboy, isn't it?" I asked as if I didn't know, but in reality I'd known it since the first day of school. It wasn't exactly a name someone could forget easily, even me. He looked down at the distance between our chairs; this school had desks attached to seats, but they were lined with about five inches in between each student. I guess it was for personal space, or maybe just a form of organization.

"Yeah, imagine how much the kids here get a kick out of it." He laughed again, to himself I imagined, though his tone was bitter and his expression had dropped.

"I don't see why." I could feel the corners of my lips turn into a frown, eyes staring him down even though he wasn't looking back at me. After a second, he met my eyes. His brows were arched and his face had what looked to be an are you serious? expression on it. "What?" I questioned defensively. "I think it's cool. No one wants a name that you hear everywhere." I didn't like the thought of people making fun of him for anything, especially not a name. He couldn't help what his parents decided to call him, just as I couldn't help that mine liked to beat and scream at me.

"Well, thanks." His face softened a bit and he glanced at his desk again. More specifically, his paper. "Gosh, I'm going to be so lost tonight. If there's one thing I'm bad at, it's the study of water, acids, and bases." His quiet laugh sounded again, and I couldn't stop the slight smile that crossed my lips.

"I'm not so bad at them." It was true. Like I'd said before, Biology wasn't my strongest suit, but I got along pretty decently. I was smart in some categories, kinda dumb in others I guess.

"You should help me." At first I thought he was joking, and there was a hint of playfulness in his voice, but his eyes had turned to me expectantly. I snapped out of my daze — staring at him blankly, that was. I zoned out sometimes; I'd hear what the person said, but my brain would take a few moments to process it. It was weird like that sometimes.

"O-oh, I mean... I can, if you want." He broke into a grin. Class was almost over, thus why we hadn't gotten in trouble for talking. Mrs. Bickson sat at her desk, oblivious to what any of the students were talking about as she graded tests from the previous week.

"I'd like that. If you don't mind, 'cause if it'd bother you then you don't have to."

"It'd be nice to have someone to do homework with, actually. I don't make a lot of friends here."

"Me either." We sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds before he broke it again. "We could do it at your house? My brother Darry is real bus—"

"No!" I rushed out hurriedly, and probably too loud, causing a few classmates to glance at us. I cleared my throat, fingers clasping the ends of my sleeves. I wasn't sure if they'd be gone when I got home or not, but I didn't want to risk it. No way was I about to let someone from school meet them. Least of all a boy who might seriously want to hang out with me. "I-I just mean, my parents are pretty weird about letting people over. Maybe we could do it at Waffle House or something?" There was one about fifteen minutes from my house, so I'd easily be able to walk there.

"Yeah, that works. I can get one of my brothers to drive me. Do you have a phone I can text you on, or?" I didn't. My parents would've killed me if I got one. They were too scared I'd end up finding a way to turn them in one day, but I wouldn't have ever done that anyway. Being in Foster Care didn't sound too appealing...

"No, but I can call you on my home phone when I get there. We can decide what time we'll meet."

"Okay." He nodded, turning his back to me. I heard the faint sound of paper ripping and I let out a breath of relief. Some would've asked why I didn't carry a cell, and I could picture the encounter now. You're in high school and you don't have a phone? That was definitely a conversation I didn't want to engage in. "Here," his voice, despite the hushed tone, startled me. He smiled again, teeth peeking from behind his lips. They looked nice, well taken care of. Like the rest of him.

I took the number from him, pocketing it and returning his smile with a closed mouth. My eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. Two more minutes, and I'd be headed to the cafeteria. There were three lunch times, and my fourth period just happened to be one of the classes that went during the first. Now, I carried on the day in an even more content mood and, for once, I was excited to get home.