Roland’s POV
Kit Richard. Even his name sounded snobbish and he looked like the kind of guy who would treat me like trash if we had met outside of camp.
His hair was black and short on the sides but long on the top. His brown eyes were too full of light despite the ungodly hour and a small stud was pushed through his tight earlobe. I half expected him to be drowning in cologne and have a douchebag attitude so I was surprised when he walked by and I didn’t catch a whiff of it but I had yet been proven otherwise on the attitude part.
The two of us stood in uncomfortable silence as he began unpacking his things.
I knew it was unfair but I could feel myself hating him more purely because he already had things to unpack. His duffle bag was nearly bursting at the seams with the number of clothes he had shoved in there, each one of them looking as if he had barely worn them more than once. Now he would have extra money at the shop for fun things or junk food.
Meanwhile, I had come here with nothing but worn-out clothes on my back and socks with holes in the toes, forcing me to use all my shop vouchers on the first day. I’d have to start working before I was able to afford anything else while Kit could last months if he was brilliant.
He had gotten here less than an hour ago and yet he was already ahead of me in every way. He was good at his classes, he has clothes and money, and I’m sure he’ll get a sponsor soon too. We were all supposed to start on the same ground and yet I’m still at the bottom compared to everyone else.
“What time is lunch usually served?” Kit asked after a while. A bit of sweat had worked its way onto his forehead but all of his things were put away and his bag was slid underneath his bed.
I don’t answer his question though, partially because I don’t know the answer, but also because I don’t want to talk to him.
I hadn’t eaten lunch since the first day.
The lunchroom was very simply hell. It was loud and full of people, the lights buzzed in that annoying industrial way, and the fluorescent tone was too bright and blinding while the smells of everyone along with the food were enough to shut down anything that resembled hunger.
Still, I had tried on the first day but everyone had already formed friend groups and they stared at the loners who preferred to be alone. I had hidden behind a book that I didn’t intend on reading but it did little to block others’ gazes or hush the whispers aimed in my direction. Rumors about the new mute kid who was called out in the first period were quickly spreading.
I hadn’t even bothered to finish my lunch. I left only minutes after getting my food, leaving my untouched trey at the table in the corner of the room.
I hadn’t gone back in there for breakfast or lunch and since then I only stepped in there long enough to get my trey before taking it back to the cabin so I could eat in peace.
When Kit realized I wasn’t going to answer he sighed to himself before looking down at his schedule. He must have got his answer since he nodded to himself and put the paper back down on his dresser.
“Do you do anything fun to pass the time on weekends? Andrew said a few students play sport but I’m not much of a sports person.”
I had to resist the urge to scoff as I looked him up and down from the corner of my eye. He was practically a mass of muscles; I could see his biceps poking out from his short sleeves.
I must have been glaring at him since he began to shift uncomfortably until I looked away. I had expected him to look away when I did but his eyes never moved from my lump of mass on the bed.
My hands played with each other in my lap as the slight pain in my thumbs kept me grounded.
Kit’s eyes were harsh and unnerving as he stared me up and down. He started with the pants that had to be cuffed to not drag the floor since I was ‘between sizes’ as Andrew put it. He then trialed up to the belt around my waist, Mary had to poke an extra hole in the material for it to help keep my pants up. My shirt was next and while it fits better than my pants, it wasn’t the best; Andrew said I would grow into all of it now that I was on a steady diet so he shot big on all of my clothes.
At the moment that had been fine but now that they were under so much scrutiny, I hated that they didn’t hit fit like everyone else’s. I hated the frown that made its way onto Kit’s face more as he did one last once over before forcing his eyes away from me.
If he looked at me this way now that I was clean and in good clothes I didn’t want to imagine what he would think if he saw me a week ago.
My eyes shifted to the clock on my dresser. Hours had passed already which meant it was almost time for my session with Andrew even though I had one yesterday.
He had talked to Mary and they seemed to be plotting against me. I was now a ‘special case’ which meant that I was stuck with extra sessions. I didn’t like the sessions. Every single one felt like an interrogation with difficult questions that we both knew I wasn’t going to answer until my hour was finally over and I could leave.
I didn’t understand what they hoped to accomplish with extra hours of silence but I didn’t think they would appreciate my thought so I kept them to myself.
I didn’t bother saying a word to Kit as I stood up and walked out of the cabin, following the familiar path to the therapist's building.
Today was different though.
Andrew’s desk was usually always spotless save a blue folder with my name on it but today it was filled with clutter.
A small fan sat on the desk with a set of tools scattered on both sides of it. It was plugged into the wall and it was on the highest setting yet it was barely moving.
I glared at it as I took my normal seat directly in front of it.
“Patrick mentioned you seemed interested in fixing things,” he said after a while of me staring at the fan. “I’ve had this tucked away for years. It stopped going full force after only a few months of use and I never got around to throwing it out. Do you want to try to fix it before I throw it?”
I stared at him for a few minutes, then back at the fan, then back at him. He was staring at me with his usual smile but it seemed brighter for some reason.
“I might break it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I tried not to wince at the rasp caught in my throat while my eyes looked at anything but him.
“That’s fine. If you can’t fix it or choose not even fool with it, I’ll throw it out anyway. Might as well give it a try.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice.
For a while I do nothing but I could almost hear the fan mocking me for not knowing what was wrong with it. Out of pure curiosity, I turn the fan on to the highest setting. Still, it barely moved and the medium setting wasn’t any better.
My fingers wrapped around the hard plastic handle of the screwdriver while my other hand turned the broken thing off.
Within seconds the fan lay across the desk in what I’m sure seemed like messy chaos to anyone but me yet I knew where everything was without needing to look up.
Wires, bolts, and anything else that had gotten in my way were pulled out until I was staring at the small motor.
My fingers were slowly growing numb and my fingernails were covered in grease but I couldn’t find it in myself to care.
The answer had become so obvious the second I popped off the front panel to the motor that I barely managed to keep my hum of contentment to myself. So much dust and gunk had built up that it was restricting airflow and keeping all of the gears from working the way they should.
I look up for the first time since starting to look for a rag that should be on my right where it always is.
I shouldn’t be surprised when I look up but I am. I half expect to be sitting in a hot, stuffy workshop. The only source of light is the natural light coming from the window in front of me. I had almost imagined the sound of someone else working behind me but the second I looked up it hit me like a train.
Andrew only stared at me with a smile. I broke eye contact quickly in favor of the fan. With no rag, I opted for cleaning it with the tail of my shirt. I don’t mess with the way Andrew stiffens slightly before his face dims for the first time since I’ve met him.
“I could have gotten you a paper towel,” he said, his voice about as harsh as he could make it but it still wasn’t very intimidating. “That’s practically a brand new shirt.”
We both knew I didn’t care enough to answer.
Soon enough the motor was clean and I couldn’t find any other reason for it not to work. Putting it back together had been so much easier than taking it apart. With everything in its place it was back together in half the time it had taken me to pull it apart and before long my fingers were anxiously hovering over the knob.
The blades started slow, barely moving, but the second I turned it to medium enough air was mustered to begin to move my hair. The highest setting was enough to move the papers hung around Andrew’s office while the frame around the blades shook from the force.
A weight in my chest I hadn’t noticed was lifted the longer the fan continued to work. I let out a sigh of relief as I reached to tighten the frame down to keep it from making the rattling sound.
“Where did you learn to fix things,” he asked after the rattling had stopped.
His voice was different this time. Over the past week, he had stopped expecting answers and it showed in his voice but it was clear this time he wanted an answer and the look in his only reassured me of that.
“My dad,” I said after a while as I picked up the screwdriver I had used the most. My shirt became a rag again as I cleaned the grease and dirt off of it so it wouldn’t rust. “He had a mechanic shop.”
“That’s pretty cool. Have you always liked it?”
“Not at first but it’s fine now,” I said with a shrug before putting the screwdriver back down and starting on getting grease out from under my nails.
“Why didn’t you like it at first?”
“I couldn’t figure it out.” It used to bug me beyond belief. I would work for hours on end until I could figure out what was wrong without so much as looking up let alone eating or taking a drink until it all eventually clicked.
My dad had taught me everything I knew. He was always so patient even after the countless questions and hours on end until every little detail was laid out perfectly; we wouldn’t stop until whatever was being worked on was running like brand new despite my dad wanting to call it good enough the second the main problem was fixed.
“What’s your favorite thing to work on,” Andrew asked with a smile but my eyes shifted to the window behind him.
It was late now. Despite the simple fix, this was the first fan I ever fixed so I took my time playing with every gear, blade, wire, barring, and screw just to help put a better picture in my mind for next time. Now it seemed time for supper and I had to admit, I was getting a bit hungry now that it was fixed.
Even though I was ready to leave I sat still until Andrew dismissed me like always. It took several more questions before I was released but eventually he noticed I wasn’t going to answer and nodded to the door like always.
“Did you like today,” he asked just as my hand was about to touch the door handle.
I shrugged.
“What does that mean,” his voice was gentle like always but I could almost hear the sigh under his words. Don’t be a problem, Roland.
“I don’t like fans,” I managed to spit out.
“Well if I found a not fan that was broken, would you want to look at it?”
A scowled voice reminded me it was rude to ask for things like that, spending more time with machines than people were rude, but I couldn’t stop myself in time.
“If you want to,” I said before biting my lip. I didn’t wait for his answer as I ran out the door.
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