Thursday

Senn felt unfocused ever since a second conversation with Dean on Wednesday evening, after they had eaten and Senn had ignored their requests to at least eat something once they were done. He didn’t need anyone to tell him what he should or should not do. He wanted his aunt to stop telling him to take care of himself.

What use did it have if death could lurk around every corner anyway? His parents took great care of themselves, yet they died and he—who wasn’t all that responsible—survived. He was the one who took risks on a daily basis. He was the one who smoked pot, drank too much alcohol every week, ate unhealthily. He was the one who had done several things that were considered slightly illegal, like entering parties or clubs meant for 21 or older, or even breaking into abandoned properties for the thrill of it.

Yet, he survived, and they didn’t.

So, why would Dean and Tessa put in all this effort to help a kid who wasn’t even supposed to be alive anyway? Why did they care about him yes or no decorating the room he stayed in? Well, the cold hard truth was that they apparently didn’t care about him decorating the room at all.

They needed the moving boxes, which he was still using, to move other things from his parents and Liam to charity and such.

Dean had jumped into defense when Senn pointed out how it felt that they simply wanted the boxes, telling him it wasn’t like that. They did want him to feel home. They just didn’t want to push him or force him to like something if he didn’t. If he wasn’t ready. But those words felt empty again when Dean again asked if he was going to unpack the boxes soon, or if they had to go and buy more.

“Mr. Reyes,” Mrs. Grant spoke up with a harsh voice, causing him to turn his head to look at her. Elio was seated beside him, chuckling softly.

“What?” Senn coldly asked, not impressed by her snappy voice. He never liked her, or her lack of empathy.

“I hope you were paying attention, because I just asked you a question that I expect you to answer.”

“Uh,” Senn shrugged a shoulder, noticing Elio shoved a paper in his direction. “I uh, well, that’s a… good question,” he stuttered, stalling to moment he’d actually have to give her an answer to a question Elio had hastily scribbled onto paper.

What is the process—

“What’s on that paper, Mr. Lake?” Mrs. Grant walked over to them, reaching out a hand, gesturing for Elio to hand her the paper with the question. When he didn’t give it to her, she snatched it off the table, read the message and then pointed to the door. “Both of you can see the principal. I warned you enough, Mr. Reyes, and I don’t appreciate cheaters, Mr. Lake. I will see you two tomorrow.”

“What?” Elio protested, while Senn had already snatched his bag off the floor to throw his stuff inside carelessly as soon as she pointed at the door. He was already halfway out while Elio was still seated, wanting to protest her decision.

“I’m glad you’re quick to make friends and the fact you’re try helping them, but this was none of your business. No notes in my class, period.”

Elio opened his mouth to reply, but somehow, when Senn looked back and into his eyes, he stopped. He grabbed his stuff and followed him out of the classroom without another word.

Senn didn’t have the energy to protest getting sent out. Not when this was the third time in a day, and none of his protest had been remotely successful. He now had three hours of detention, an annoyed principal and three teachers who had apparently already forgotten that a terrible car accident had damaged him inside and out. Focus and concentration weren’t in his dictionary anymore, nor were they skills he was able to master.

“Hey, wait up,” Elio called out when Senn made a right at the end of the hallway. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. Away.” Senn said, pushing the doors to exit the school open. “I’m sick of getting sent out because I can’t focus.”

“She did warn you—”

“I suffered from brain damage, Elio,” Senn snapped at him, frustrated, angry, ashamed. “I literally can’t focus.”

“Right, I… forgot.” Elio caught up with him while Senn kept marching to his bike. “I suppose they’re supposed to know?”

“Yes, obviously they know about my medical condition.” Senn kicked his bike as soon as he had reached it. “They know everything about me, but they don’t fucking care. And why would teachers care? The only one who cares is Killian, and he’s gonna fucking leave me too so I’m not even surprised—”

“Wow, calm down.” Elio threw his hands up in defense. “I don’t even know who Killian is, and I have no idea if any of what you just claimed is true because I don’t have enough information to defend most people in your life. But for what it’s worth, I know your friends care.” He gestured towards the school building, seemingly feeling a bit awkward over Senn’s rant.

“They seem to care, but I haven’t seen them anywhere outside of school. They’re not really trying, are they?”

“Okay, without trying to piss you off, because you’re obviously already pissed off, you’re the one who was hiding until four days ago, and they’ve invited you to Shakies, but you didn’t want to go. What more are they supposed to do without being pushy? Because seriously, they don’t know.”

“Well, I don’t fucking know either.” Senn unlocked his bike, avoiding eye contact with Elio. He didn’t know how to handle any of this for himself, let alone how others could or should handle it. “Are you coming, or what?”

“Uh, I’m by car. We could go somewhere if you want to. I’ll drive.”

“Obviously you’ll drive,” Senn muttered, rolling his eyes. “Let’s go shopping. I need boxes.”