Chapter Nine

I wanted to say something. I wanted poignant words to fall from my mouth in such a crooked way that it might scare him off. I wanted to be as abrasive and as self-destructive as my body would allow me to be. I wanted to be left alone, swallowed by my own thoughts.

But I didn't do any of that.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, a frown stretching across my face. My brows were furrowing furiously, and my eyes becoming more intense. It was as good a tactic as any to try and scare him off. There was a burning in my stomach that resisted the urge to hurl a torrid of acid-laced insults towards him.

The logical side of my brain still thought it might have been a good idea to keep him around. I was trying to fight a losing battle, struggling against the riptide of reality.

As he looked down, there was a soft roll of his eyes, his expression too curling down to match my own. He didn't look much different from earlier. Well that was a bit of a lie, I could actually make him out more clearly now that the initial swelling had managed to subside.

Despite it being the middle of autumn, the boy stood, a slim statuette with barely anything covering much of him. The flimsy shirt he wore was emblazoned with some faded rhetoric, a possible reference to something I had never actually seen. There was nothing to brace his arms for the cold October winds, and yet, he just stood there like it wasn't a big deal at all. A dark beanie seemed to be the only sign that he actually felt the bitterness that clung to the air.

It made me feel somewhat a fool for having to have three different layers not to freeze to death.

When he didn't answer me right away, I decided on an alternative approach. "Aren't you cold?" I asked, hugging the fleecy jacket tighter around me.

His face turned from frown to smile, as he rested his hands on the bar and decided to kick off. Slowly, the platform began to spin, the entire world above me pirouetting in some sort of picturesque madness. It was enough to bring a quick smirk to my own lips.

"You have to feel something to feel cold," he said very abruptly. There was nothing behind his expression in that moment. He seemed a little lost in the momentum right now, but I could tell that there was something there. If I dug a little deeper I might have been able to see it, but I was not made to delve into the problems of others. I had enough emotional baggage without taking his as well. Now it was my turn to stay quiet.

After all, if he wanted me to know all he had to do was say something. If he didn't, then it was none of my business, and if he did, well it was still none of my business but at least then I knew what was wrong.

"You okay." It came more as a statement than a question. His head turned back and his eyes met mines for a moment.

They were the deepest fountains of hazel, so easy to become overwhelmed and lost. Maybe that was Xavier's problem; he'd looked into a mirror and had trouble getting out ever since. Forever consumed by his own vanity. It felt like the perfect start to some sort of poem, and this was enough to get a wry smile out of me.

"I'm good," I managed to say once the smile had faded into nothingness. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

He stopped the carousel for a moment, turning to look down at me. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you put up with it?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's a lot easier than going against the grain I guess." My mind whirled on this notion for a moment. Head turning to the side, I looked directly at him. "I run, they beat me worse. I fight back, they beat me worse. I tell someone, they beat me worse."

Suddenly the words became a little less transparent, at least to me. I didn't need to let Xavier know about that. He was just some lost kid.

"If I just sit there and take it, then eventually it stops." It's at this moment that I realise it's taking everything just not to bubble over and let a cauldron of seventeen years of raw emotions pour itself over. I had to keep control, because if I couldn't do that, then I had no chance belonging anywhere. "It's just the way things have to be."

"That's bull," he said, turning around and kicking off once more, sending us spiraling again. "You can stand up for yourself you know."

"It's not that easy."

He rolled his eyes. I only know this because it was the only thing his face could have been doing in that exact moment. He was predictable, just like everyone else. But there was something more there, a familiarity that felt comforting.

"There's this thing in psychology," he starts, "the fight-or-flight response. You either run away from the problem or stand up against it."

"Nothing is ever that black and white you know." His face turned harsh against mines at this response, but it was clear that now he was taking the steps to calm himself back down.

"You get one chance, fight or flight."

"Escape."

"Sooo, flight then?"

"No, escape."

The words were a relief in my throat. They burned, but it was the good kind of burn. It was like that strong sense that rose from within you. It paralyzed you for only a moment, but afterwards you knew the answers in your head.

Escaping was my element.

Escapism was more than just a hobby. For me it was an art. It was the art of learning how to distance myself from this world and elevate myself to the next. It was learning how to evade meaty hands looking for trouble. It was sneaking out my bedroom through the window at the age of six. It was pretending that this life was probably the one that I was not meant to live.

This life was a mistake. The cruelest mistake.

"To give them a reason," he said softly, taking his time to sit at the edge of the merry-go-round, turned away from me. "What is that even supposed to mean?"

I breathed out deeply, eloping my hands at the back of my neck and looking up at the murky star-less sky. Even in a small town like this, it was impossible to see even the remotest speck of the vast universe most nights. "I don't want to talk about that."

He sighed a horrible sigh. I could tell he was deflated, but what really did he expect me to do?

"Just..." He rose to his feet softly. "Just don't get in over your head Garth."

Before I had the chance to sit up, he was already making his way along the path, sinking in to the auburn trees that surrounded him from almost all sides.