Page 4 of Run to Me
“Is that all you’re going to eat today?” He points to my sorry excuse for a lunch. It was more than I usually got from my dad, and we’d also had to earn the good snacks at the group home by making progress. That kind of reminded me of my old life. My dad had made me earn things too. A shiver runs through me, and goosebumps cover my skin as I remember the last time I told him I needed new shoes.
“What have you done to earn it?”The memory of his voice is like nails on a chalkboard in my head.
I shrug. “Yeah, I’m not too hungry at school.”
“Or at home either.” He lifts his sandwich and takes a small bite, mustard dripping over his bottom lip when he sets it down. “Want a bite?”
“No, I’m okay, thanks.” I look down at the lettuce hanging out of it, my stomach rumbling. Maybe I do want something more than snacks today. “What is it? Ham and cheese?”
“Nope. Turkey.”
My stomach twists and I stiffen.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“I don’t . . . I’m not a turkey fan.” In fact, smelling it now is enough to cause bile to rise in my throat. It’s what I used to feedthem. What he made me give them. Turkey and cheese on white bread with a side of fruit punch.
“No? Is it the taste?” he asks, scooting closer.
“Not exactly. I just don’t like it. Can you not get so close with it please.”
His forehead wrinkles and he looks down at the sandwich before his eyes meet mine again. “I’m sorry.” Panic rises in his voice and he quickly gets to his feet to toss his food away in the nearest trash can.
“What did you do that for?” I ask when he sits back down beside me.
“Seeing you so upset didn’t make eating it worth it. I still have my other stuff. I’m not that hungry either.” He forces a smile. “Can you tell me what else you don’t like so I can be more careful next time?”
I frown. “I’d hate for you to have to give stuff up just for me.”
“It’s what brothers do, right?” He pops a grape in his mouth, chewing and smiling at the same time. I don’t have the heart to tell him he has mustard on his lip, but also don’t want him to go the rest of the day walking around with it there, so I grab a napkin from my bag and quickly wipe it away.
“Sorry. It seemed easier in the moment to do it myself instead of telling you. Bad habit.” I’m so used to eating with others who can’t do things on their own, and I don’t know why I can’t permanently leave that damn basement.
“It’s okay.” He takes the napkin from my hand and glances down at the mustard stain. “Thanks. Feel free to stop me from embarrassing myself at school any time you want.”
We both laugh and he offers me a grape. I take it, holding the piece of fruit in my hand for a while before finally eating it. I listen to him rant about the songs he has to sing for choir and the guy who always copies him in algebra. I learn more about the things he doesn’t like instead of telling him about mine. It buys me a little time until the warning bell rings and we’re throwing away all our trash.
“You still haven’t told me about what else you don’t like.”
I zip up my lunch bag and clutch it to my chest. “There are a few random things. Sometimes I don’t even remember I hate them until they’re brought up.”
He nods in understanding and starts walking toward his next class. Mine happens to be close by so I head in the same direction. “How about you tell me as you think of them then?”
“Okay.”
Nate says hi to a friend on our way up the stairs, and after he gets his books from his locker some asshole slaps them out of his hand. “Oh, look who it is. The guy who defends kidnapping freaks.”
“I don’t have time for your shit right now, Kyle. I have to get to class. We all do.”
“No one wants you here anymore. I think the both of you should do the whole school a favor and leave.”
“Fuck you,” Nate blurts, and when he reaches to pick up his books, Kyle shoves him hard to the ground. Anger boils inside me and I quickly move forward, swinging the large book in my hand in the air. The heavy weight comes into contact with his face, knocking the wind out of him. He tumbles to the floor, swearing and gripping his head.
Ignoring the stares, I pick Nate up from the floor, worried I’ll find fear in his eyes. But I don’t. He wraps his fingers tightly around mine and his blue eyes sparkle with . . . I don’t know . . . pride? Triumph? Gratefulness?
I pick up his books and hand them to him right before Kyle lunges at me, tackling me to the ground. We roll around a few times and I manage to dodge his fist more than once. I grab onto his wrist when he swings at me again, twisting hard, and he yelps. It doesn’t get him off me, though. With a beet-red face, he’s madder than ever, and as he’s wrapping his fingers around my neck, someone comes up from behind him, yanking him off.
“Alright everyone, fight’s over. Get to class,” a man says. I don’t recognize him, but judging by his faculty badge he’s a teacher. He turns his attention back to us. “You two to the principal’s office, now.”
