August 24th- Book One in the May 3rd series

Chapter 6-someone is an asshat who WON'T WRITEEEE.

Warnings ⚠: Child Abuse, Rape, Violence, Religion, Drug Use, Alcohol Use, Use of Slurs, Homophobia, Bullying, Mention of Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Actions, Gun Use

Josiah's P.O.V.
-Monday, August 30th-

I've been trying to find Damien all day.
It's pretty much to the point where I bet he's hiding from me.
He's the one who started all of this in the first place. Then he just goes all day without contacting me at all.
It's lunch time when I finally find him, about to go sit down somewhere.
Dressed entirely in black, as usual.
"Hey, what's going on? I thought you would approach me some time during the day, but I looked around for you and I couldn't even find you..." I tell him, following closely behind him.
He pauses as soon as I start talking. "Why the hell are you talking to me...in front of everyone?"
"Um. Because you told me to? You wanted to talk. About the whole tutoring thing." I remind him.
"Not here! Go away. I'll meet you after school."
Why after school? What's wrong with now?
"I-... Why not here?"
"Because I said! Leave! Ethan and Hunter heading over here! I will talk to you later!"
Um...
"Okay. But we can't talk for long after school. I have to get home." I say.
I was really hoping that I could just follow him around whenever I want. That would make school a lot easier. If he scared everyone off.
I guess I should just go sit down and do some homework, as usual.
"Whatever. Bye." He says, leaving.
Cool.
I really hope he finds me after school, because looking for him was a pain.
He's just a big blur of black clothes.
It's easier than if I was trying to look for anyone else. But it's still hard.
I go sit down and pull schoolbooks out of my bag. I might as well go ahead and do the homework that was assigned this morning. Or I could study for any pop quizzes that may or may not happen in the near future.
I wonder why Damien doesn't want to talk.
Because of his friends...? Would the other big bullies just despise that?
Right. Because people like Damien just can't involve themselves with people like me at all. That would be insane.
I bet he would get shunned. Which is, of course, the worst thing... At least, for people like him.
People who focus on absolutely nothing in life except for their friends.
As if anyone he hangs out with actually likes him. That's what is the most fucked up with people like that.
People pleasing..
Giving up everything to make someone else happy. It's stupid.
The type of people he surrounds himself with don't like anyone. If he did anything they didn't like, they would drop him immediately. Because they don't care about anything.
I would assume that hanging around with anyone like me would fall into that category.
I open one of the schoolbooks, but I can't possibly bring myself to focus on it enough to read it.
Why would Damien let Ethan and Hunter Lewis be his friends?

...

It's after school. 

I can't stand here forever. My aunt told me to be home for dinner, which means she is in a good mood. I can't pass that up.

Especially not for Damien. He isn't worth it.
No one is.
I pull on my sleeves. I don't really think he is coming.
I already know that his friends would hate this, and that he is someone who just does whatever his friends want him to...
There's no way he's actually coming.
I don't have time to stand here and act like he will. Almost everyone has already left. I need to leave, too.
Forget this. It was stupid anyway.
"Hey, loser."
OH.
"Why did you make me wait here for like, forever?" I question.
"School let out ten minutes ago. It wasn't that long. Besides, I had to wait till my friends left."
"Right. The friends... The ones who would definitely abandon you for this. Those friends." I nod.
"No they wouldn't... They just would be confused is all... It's not worth a fight or anything."
Of course he thinks that.
"Well, okay. Whatever. We need to discuss the tutoring thing real quick then I have to go." I say.
"What's the rush?"
"Just...dinner. Nothing. What do we need to talk about? Like, did you have any questions? Do you want to start the actual stuff tomorrow after school? And it'll be at your house, right?"
"I can't do Tuesdays or Thursdays. Or Saturdays. but I'm free the rest of the time."
"Okay. Just Wednesdays and Fridays, then. Does that sound good?"
"Sure. Just after school at my house. I can drive you, but we'll have to wait till ten after, so no one sees. Just gimme your number, that way I can text you when I need to talk to you while I'm at school. You can't just approach me, okay?"
"Don't worry. I won't ruin your reputation," I promise, "I don't have a phone or anything."
"You don't have a phone. Of course." He mutters. "Well, I guess I'll see you Wednesday after school."
"And I guess I won't approach you until then. And you won't be trying to chase off Logan anymore or anything, are you?"
"Um. Probably not?"
"Okay, good. Because that was weird."
"Sorry for helping," He huffs, "I have to go... Do you want me to drive you home?"
...What?
"Really?" I ask cautiously.
"Yes, really. Unless you want to walk and risk being late...for dinner."
I stare at him blankly for a moment.
Seriously, why the hell is he so nice?
"I don't have all day, Walker. Are you coming or not?" He asks, walking away.
"Are you trying to kidnap me?" I ask him.
"If I was going to kidnap you, I would have done it already."
I start following after him. "That's disappointing. Your house was huge."
"I can kidnap you and force you into slave labor, if you want."
"Cool. I don't know how to cook or anything, but I guess you already have your butler for that." I smile at him.
"What, you mean Pierre? It sounds weird, calling him a butler, but I guess."
"Yeah, okay. I'll call him Pierre then," I attempt to walk faster to keep up with him, "You walk too fast." I inform him.
"You walk too slow." He says, slowing a bit.
I still feel like he is too far away.
But, of course, as soon as I try to get closer, he stops.
I walk right into his back.
"Why did you stop?!" I question, quickly taking a step back.
We're standing by a motorcycle.
Oh, those things are the worst.
"I'm glaring at you, by the way." He tells me.
"Why? You're the one who stopped right in front of me, asshole."
"You were walking too close!"
"I can't tell how close I am! You need to...pay attention to that, or something. I'm not going to notice."
"Right, you're blind as fuck. Got it." He says, getting on the motorcycle.
...What?!
"No." I say after a moment.
"No what?"
"Why do you have that thing? It's a death trap. It could get you killed. You could die." I rant.
"I hope so. Get on."
"Don't say that. It's not a joke. And I don't know... It's dangerous."
"It wasn't a joke. I'll drive slower, if you want."
I watch him as I contemplate it, pulling my sleeves over my hands.
"Are you good at driving it?" I go on.
"I have my license, and I've been driving it since I was sixteen, and before you can ask, I haven't been in a wreck."
"Not yet. There's always time." I remark.
"We can only hope. C'mon, I'm not waiting all day."
"Stop saying that! I'll get on. Fine." I go up to it.
I place my hand on the seat thing behind him.
There should be seat belts or something like that on these things.
I pull myself up onto it.
"You don't have a helmet on." I point out.
"Never do. Hold onto me or you'll fly off and die...hopefully."
"What's wrong with you?"
He laughs, "How much time do you have? I thought you had to get home?"
"Yeah, I do," I mutter, before sighing and forcing myself to wrap my arms around him, "Just stop making jokes about people dying, okay?"
He doesn't immediately answer, ruining the back and forth banter we had going.
He doesn't start the bike up, either.
...Is he okay?
"What? Why aren't you going?" I ask him softly, pressing my face against his jacket.
Leather. Bet it makes him look cool.
He clears his throat. "Right, sorry."
"You're weird."
"No, you're weird." He says, starting the bike up.
I wince, "Why's it so loud?"
"Cause. It'd be wimpy if it wasn't"
"I think it's awful. The whole thing is awful. You should get rid of it.
Motorcycles are all awful.
Have you ever seen a motorcycle accident? Blood, brains, and guts everywhere... Decapitated heads...
No way am I letting that be me! I'm holding on tight and screaming at top volume if he even dares to risk my life.
"You're awful. I should get rid of you." He retorts.
"Might as well. Everyone else does. You can kill me, if you want."
"Jesus Christ! I was joking."
"Oh. Don't make any jokes at all."
"Okay, whatever." He says starting to move the thing.
It's going to be hard to get used to the things he says, but...
I don't know.
I really feel like it might be worth it.

End