Chapter Text
Today did not seem like it was going to be his day.
Colt tried in vain to wipe the mud from the knees of his jeans, but it stayed in spite of him. He was already on track to be late for school, so he just kept on walking.
He was an accident-prone kid, always finding some way to get hurt, but his father told him it just made him tougher. Maybe, he figured, but it didn't stop it from being humiliating. Colt could already feel where the bruises were forming.
The walk to school was long and boring, down the dusty, dirt road surrounded by nothing but kilometers of farmland. The corn grew almost as tall as him this time of year, so tall he could barely see the mountain past it.
The old folk always told horror stories of monsters hidden under the mountain, and he naively believed every one. Still, he'd sometimes wander close to the trees that marked the base when he went out exploring. Any noise would send him running over the hills, though.
By the time he made it to school, the sun was high enough that he knew he'd be late. He sincerely hoped his teacher wouldn't notice as he quietly slipped into his desk at the back of the room.
His math teacher was droning on about one thing or the other, and even though it was still his first week of high-school, Colt had a feeling he wouldn't be doing too well.
In the desk beside him, was someone new. Most all the kids in his grade had gone to his elementary school, but he didn't recognize the boy that sat next to him. The new kid had cool, dark brown skin and neatly tied black locks. They wore a pretty blue jumper covered in butterfly patches. The kid seemed to notice Colt's gaze, and looked over, giving a small wave. Colt gave an awkward wave back. The new kid smiled and went back to writing in their notebook. Colt wasn't sure why he felt so much more nervous than usual.
At lunch, Colt sat alone in what he figured was the drama classroom. It wasn't very large but it was empty and nobody had come in to bother him yet. Upon sitting down and opening his bag, he realised with dismay that he had forgotten to bring any food, so he decided instead to draw in his notebook. He knew he wasn't a good artist by any metric, but it wasn't like he was taking notes for class in there anyways.
Colt thought for a moment before deciding what to draw. He remembered the new kid's butterfly patches and had an idea. He took out a blue marker and started to draw.
...
His wandering thoughts were disrupted when he heard the door creak open. Colt's heart jumped as his careful lines were ruined by his surprise. He peeked over the book on his knees to see the new kid looking around the room before spotting him.
"Oh! Hi," His soft voice was loud in the quiet room. "I didn't know anybody was in here."
"Ye- uh... Howdy," Colt sputtered. "Um I wasn't doin' nothin' so um-"
"Well, neither was I. Mind if I join you?" The boy asked with a hesitant smile.
"N-no not at all!" Colt could tell he was probably turning red as a tomato, but he quickly moved his bag closer to him, shrinking in a bit.
The boy walked over and sat beside him, a little bit away, and put his bag down as well. His movements were as smooth as his voice, Colt noticed.
"My name's Colt, who might you be?" He cautiously asked.
"My name is Beau. It's nice to meet you, Colt."
"Beau, huh. Like Little Bo Peep?" He said without thinking.
Beau laughed a bit at that, covering his mouth with his hand. "Close enough, I'd say. Spelt a bit different."
"Ah- Sorry if that's rude, I wasn't thinkin'." Colt mumbled.
"No, no, I just never thought of it before." Beau had quite a pretty smile, Colt found himself thinking.
"What are you drawing?" Beau gestured to the notebook.
"Well, um..." Colt hadn't thought to put the book away when Beau walked in. Hadn't thought, like usual.
"Are those butterflies?" Beau's eyes lit up a bit as he caught a look at the page. "If you couldn't tell, I'm quite the fan of them."
"Yeah! Well, I uh, saw yer patches earlier and um..." Colt tried to come up with an explanation that wasn't strange but his brain failed him.
"Thats so cute," Beau smiled, seemingly unaware of what Colt thought to be a major transgression. "Are you much of an artist?"
"Ah, no, not really. It jus’ gets my brain a-workin' better than words do." Colt folded the flimsy notebook up and put it in his bag, keeping his eyes down. "What about you?"
"Hm, well I don't really draw, but I am a dancer." He said this last part with pride.
"Really?" Colt looked up.
Beau nodded. "A real ballerino."
"Huh, now I reckon I'm not fancy enough to be meetin' many bally-ree-nos."
"I don't tend to meet many cowboys." Beau laughed.
"Well, I'm the best 'un in the town, guarantee!" Colt beamed.
The warning bell rang loud, and both boys jumped at the shrill sound.
"Y'just don' get used to it," Colt grumbled as he made sure everything was back in his bag.
"What class do you have now?" The ballerino asked as he stood up.
"English."
"With Mrs. Jones?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"’Cause I do too." Beau grabbed his bag and headed for the door. "Let's go, cowboy."