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Brad O’Keefe hunched down against a concrete wall, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket. He watched people pass with wide eyes, trying to wait out the locker passing period.
It had been a month since he’d left Eden. It had been a month since Dentata had possessed his stepsister’s body and used her as a vessel. It had been a month since HERO had entered his. But as soon as HERO entered, he left, deeming Brad too weak to be a vessel.
It had been a month since he’d killed his father. Brad’s uncle had taken them in. He shared a room with his cousin, and Dawn got her own room. He was only a little salty about having to share a room, apparently it was temporary.
He watched people pass through the large campus. His school in Eden was nowhere near as big as this one. They had to walk outside to enter a different wing of the school sometimes, but only one. The science wing. Brad was crouched next to the back wall of the science building, untying and retying his shoes over and over again.
He wanted to look like he wasn’t skipping, his shoe just simply became untied, and he had to tie it so he didn’t trip over his laces. He couldn’t stand being in actual classes. He liked learning, he liked reading, and he really loved science. But he hated being the new kid. He hated being looked at.
It made it difficult, vaguely hearing comments from other Truthseekers. He hadn’t figured out how to get them out of his mind quite yet, but he’d grown used to the murmur of conversation that constantly rang in his ears. They were quiet now, at a time he wished they weren’t. He felt a little lonely. He hadn’t made any friends, other than his cousin, who he saw sometimes. But he was always busy with his own friends, people Brad was too nervous to talk to.
This wasn’t new. He got nervous talking to people in Eden, too. He never did have friends anyway. He never talked to anyone in PKG unless he had to. The bell had long rung, he’d been bent over staring at his shoe, his laces half tied. He sighed, standing up and looking around. No one in sight. He felt relief crash over him. Now he’d just have to avoid getting caught. He walked around the building a bit, he was certain he wasn’t recognizable enough for anyone to notice he wasn’t around.
He lifted his head against, finding a spot hidden in the shade on the side of the building. He slid down against the brick, taking out his phone and beginning to scroll through forums. The smell of cigarette smoke wafted into his nose. He tried to ignore it, people seemed to smoke at this school a lot.
The scent grew stronger, as if it were being smoked right next to him. He looked up again, surprised to see two boys standing about ten feet away. One of them was clutching his backpack straps nervously, staring up at the other boy through his eyelashes. He wore a striped polo shirt and khaki, his hair a dirty blond, and he had soft blue eyes.
Brad couldn’t see the other boy's face, but he had long, almost black hair. He was skinny and tall, bearing a messenger bag and all black clothing. Brad couldn’t pick up on what they were saying, but the shorter of the two had a nervous expression, his grip on the backpack straps never wavering.
The other boy placed a pale hand on his shoulder, his fingertips adorned with black painted nails, digging into his joint. The blond boy continued to stare up at him, tension visibly leaving his body as a thumb brushed over the fabric of his striped shirt.
The hand ran down his arm before they could put more distance between the two of them. The blond boy blushed as they waved to each other, and he walked off in the opposite direction.
Brad’s eyes stayed trained on the second boy, who stayed turned away from him. He could now see that his other hand held a cigarette between his fingers. He took a drag as he watched, who Brad assumed was the first boy who had walked off.
Brad stood up, wondering if this wasn’t the best spot. He didn’t want to invade someone else’s space, but then again, it was the side of a building. It didn’t belong to anyone. His shoe scuffed against the brick, causing the boy to turn around.
They stood and stared at each other. Brad resembled a deer in headlights. The boy was pale with deep bags under blue-grey eyes, his cheekbones prominent, his face framed by dark bangs. Brad was intimidated by the way his brows furrowed as his eyes met Brad's.
"What?" The dark-haired boy spat out. Brad shook his head, trying to force words out, "Uh, nothing. Sorry, I was just standing here." The other boy huffed at him, shaking his head, "He's not my boyfriend." Brad was taken aback by his defensive demeanor, "Oh, no, I don't care... I didn't even notice." He did notice, and now he was confused because he thought they were flirting. But they didn't hold hands or anything, so maybe they were just friends.
They fell into an awkward silence, Brad turned to leave. But he stopped when he heard the other boy speak, "I'm Connor." He sounded less sure of himself, his body language becoming less aggressive and more guarded. Brad nodded, looking over Connor's features another time. "I'm Brad."
"Okay?" Connor replied shortly. Brad didn't say anything. This guy was rude, he didn't feel like dealing with it. He didn't want to hit or whatever happened when someone got bullied. He averted his eyes from Connor's face, starting to turn away again.
"Have you ever smoked before?" He asked suddenly, causing Brad to look back at him. "Uhm, no? Why would I smoke?" But that was a dumb question for Brad to ask because he'd tried to before. Before his father died, he'd tried to steal a cigar multiple times. Just to try. But he never got one.
"You look like you need it," Connor remarked, leaning against the wall. Brad didn't quite understand what that meant, but Connor didn't say it like it was a good thing. "Oh, I'll... try it sometime?" His gaze fell onto the cigarrete held gingerly in between Connor's fingers.
He earned a scoff from Connor, and he began to dig around in the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out another cigarette, lighting the end of it and passing it to Brad. He stopped and stared at it for a moment. Connor was offering him a cigarette? Why?
"Oh, no, that's okay. I don't need one." He didn't want to owe anyone anything. Quite frankly, he just wanted to finish this year of school, then convince his uncle to let him drop out. He couldn't do this another year. He'd get a job, or maybe go into trades. He just wanted to leave.
"I'm serious, just take it," Connor shoved it at him again insistently. Brad took it with a sigh, breathing in the sharp scent of cigarette smoke. He held it up to his lips, trying to figure out how to take a drag. Connor glanced at him, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "Just like, breathe in," he said matter-of-factly, as if it were the easiest thing on Earth. Maybe to Connor, it was.
Brad did as he was told, immediately choking on the smoke as it hit the back of his throat. "That's," Brad began to speak in between coughs, "That's awful!" He inspected the cigarette between his own fingers. The scent lingered in his nose, burning the back of his throat. He didn't know what to do with it, it's not like he could give it back.
So he took another drag, trying to suppress his coughing. He felt a little embarrassed, but it was sort of getting easier. He could feel that Connor was judging him. They didn't talk as they stood, the smoke being taken by the slight breeze. He stared out at the trees planted around the perimeter of the campus in neat rows.
The sky was overcast, but the Sun was beginning to peak through, just slightly. He glanced at Connor again. He was staring out at the trees too, his expression calm, as if the sight of them made him feel peace. Brad didn't wonder why, nor did he ask.
By the time the bell had rung, both of them had stopped smoking. Connor didn't say goodbye to Brad, he just murmured to him, "You owe me one," before turning away to greet the same blond boy in a striped polo that he'd met up with just as the period had begun. Brad felt nervous at the thought of owing Connor anything. Was he serious? How was he going to buy cigarettes? Maybe his uncle smoked, he could get one from him?
Brad's anxiety over this favor didn't waver as he watched Connor walk away with the other boy. He caught a bit of their conversation, listening to the voice of someone he assumed was the boy next to Connor. He was mentioning something about the park nearby their school, the point up at the sky, his finger aligning with the rays that were beginning to shine through the clouds. Connor nodded, his hand brushing against the other boy's as they walked.
Brad turned back towards the trees, pushing off the wall and picking up his backpack. He sighed, making his way towards the wooded area, his eyes never leaving the clouds. He could smell the stench of smoke clinging to his jacket and backpack. How would he explain this to Dawn? She wouldn't let it go, surely. He'd have to find a way to cover it up before dinner.