The Art of Gravity

TOBIAS MITCHELL

I have no idea what I'm doing.

I'm being a hypocrite. I tell him to stay away from me, but then I go and corner him under the bleachers.

I don't know what I'm doing. It's like I can't stay away from him. He's passed his weird obsession to me, and now it's me who can't keep my eyes off him.

I could feel him staring at me in the hallway while he talked to his friend, but I didn't acknowledge it, I never acknowledged it.

He's so fucking small. My eyes study him while he freaks out, his leg bouncing up and down, fingers knotted together anxiously.

I don't know why I told him to follow me. I don't know why I waited for him. Maybe it was just an excuse to talk to him again, but if he asked, I'd deny it.

He bites his lip, like he wants to say something but thinks it too much of a risk. He seems to gain courage, determination in his eyes.

"You're confusing me."

I blink, not expecting that. If anyone was confused here, it was me. But maybe I was being too selfish. I had told him to stay away from me, and now I've done something that totally contradicts that.

I shrug, pretending that his words didn't affect me.

"I confuse everyone," I tell him, and it's the truth. I confuse myself sometimes, like right now.

He looks me up and down, eyes calculating.

"You said to stay away from you." He states, swallowing.

My eyes cast down, thinking. My hands start to clench again, and I have the urge to punch something again, anything.

"I did." I answer, not knowing what else I could say.

"Then why this? Why now, just after yesterday? I don't understand..." He says, and I let out a breath.

Reaching into my pocket, I grab one of the many cancer sticks that I have stashed in there, and grip my lighter tight in my hands.

My fingertips balance the cigarette between my fingers, and I bring it up to my lips, inhaling the toxic smoke.

"Those things could kill you." He says, eyes on the stick between my lips.

I chuckle a bit at his statement, eyes closed.

I opened them when I reply so that I can see his reaction, "And if I did?"

He frowns, like he doesn't understand.

"If you did what?" he asks, eyes anywhere but on me now. His form was still tense, and I wondered if he'd ever be comfortable in my presence again like he was years ago.

"If I died? What would you do?" I ask, intrigued at his look of sadness.

His eyes were widened, brows frowned, mouth set in a thin line. He shakes his head, sighing like he doesn't know how to answer.

"I'd... I'd die too.... Inside." He says, meeting my eyes. I blink in astonishment. Who'd care that much?

I take another drag of my cigarette, "You're surprising."

He smiles a little, blush creeping of his neck. I watch it travel up to his cheeks, before grunting.

"I like surprising people." I tell him.

I inhale more nicotine because it seems I've lost my mind. Perhaps I left it on Noah's sheets that night. Maybe it was still there, but in reality, I knew that I just needed a reason for what I was doing because I was too scared to admit that I couldn't stay away.

Noah's blush darkens, and he shook his head.

"Be honest... What are we?" He asks me, his voice breathy.

"Human." 

He shivers at my tone, which had gone dark.

"Humans are the worst kind of being." He responds, looking far away now.

I stare at him, trying to understand.

"Why's that?" I ask, because this small little doe - eyed boy makes me curious.

He shrugs, "Why's anything? Greed, war, selfishness... Man are truly a sad species. It's sad that we can't even blame it on those things. In the end, it's man who make the decision. In the end, it's man who kill. In the end... It's man who destroy themselves."

He looks up at me, and I stare into his eyes. He's so fucking smart, so fucking intelligent and a million more adjectives that I don't have the time or patience to list.

"So tell me, for the sake of humanity. What are we...?" He asks again, and this time, I give him a serious answer.

"For the sake of humanity.... Just us. Acquaintances. People..."

He smiles, "Okay... That's... okay."

"I must warn you. Don't trust me so easily... please. You'll only get hurt."

"But you don't want me to...?" He says, referring to the words I'd whispered in his ear.

I shrug, "I'd never wish pain upon anyone."

"Yet you beat people up every day?" He asks, looking me up and down.

I throw the half - finished cigarette on the ground, my foot smothering the fire out.

"Some things are not what they seem."

I then duck out of the bleachers, walking away, knowing all the while that he was following me.