Only the Heart Knows Why, Quax's Days

Only The Heart Knows Why, Quax's Days

Two: Battered and Bruised



The rest of the day wasn't very exciting. The classes I had weren't very interesting, and they seemed to kind of blur into each other somewhat. Hika was in the first one after lunch, so I got there with no problem, and she pointed me off in the direction of my final class. They weren't interesting, so I can only just remember what they even were, and that they're not just some kind of blur all smashed together. Of course, all things end sometimes and the outright boredom of school is no exception. So, after leaving the new halls and heading outside into the overcast Friday afternoon, I looked around at my classmates as they said goodbye to friends and hello to families. Hika waved me over to the group, but with a heavy heart I turned away, pretending not to see her.



Too many dark prospects happen after school's finished. I was lucky enough to get an after school job last year, but last month they cut my hours back. Something about "time to get over the trauma" over what happened back at my old school. I know they had good intentions with doing it, but I'd rather be anywhere but home... damn near all of the time. Still, everyone needs a place to sleep, which is the only reason I haven't left.



When I reached there, I looked up at the old place from the street. The lawn and gardens had been growing out of control ever since my father got fired from his job. I doubt he's the only one it's happened to, but he turned quickly to the bottle and had no trouble picking out a target for his venting frustrations. The angered target the meek, I guess.



I sighed to myself, dreading every second spent in this hell hole. I took my way up the steps and carefully open the door. After a quick look around inside, I was satisfied that no one was around and made my way to the stairs. By now I knew the trick to get up them quickly, without making them creak. It only took seconds for me to be on the upstairs landing, and just seconds more to be in my bedroom.



I closed the door behind me and went over to my bed. I fell down onto it and wrapped myself in its warmth, a pseudo-embrace that was still enough to comfort me. To hold me. I shifted onto my side and closed my eyes, just wanting to sleep until it was time for work.



Bang!



I jerked up from a doze and looked over at my door. It had almost been kicked in and my father was standing in the doorway. He didn't look happy and my heart suddenly dropped out from under me. He just stood there, and I could feel my hands shaking lightly under my blanket. His hand lifted slightly and he motioned with his finger for me to come to him.



I threw my blanket off and scrambled over to him. He stood almost a foot taller than me, more because I was short than he was tall. From here I could see the veins in his eyes. He smelt so bad that I felt like I was getting a little light headed just off the fumes in his breath. He put a hand on my shoulder so I couldn't get away, holding on tight enough to make me wince in pain. "I got a call from the school today," he said, his words mumbling together lightly, "and they tell me you were late this morning."



"I-I'm sorry," I heard myself stammer, "it's further away than my old school was."



Wrong answer. He tightened his grip on my shoulder, making me seethe in pain. "Stop making excuses!" he spat and I fought my every urge to wipe my face, "you should have left earlier then."



Trying to ignore the pain in my shoulder, I looked down. The 'roll over' tactic sometimes worked. "You're right, Dad," I said softly, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."



He glared down at me for a moment longer, then let go of my shoulder and turned to leave. He stopped out in the hall and turned back to me. "I think a fitting punishment would be if you cleaned the basement this weekend."



"What, no!" I protested, stepping closer to him. It seems I said the wrong thing again and he turned around, making me run right into his fist with my face. I fell backwards and hit the leg of my bed with my shoulder and felt it jolt with pain. He walked up to me and put his foot in my stomach, holding me down.



"You want to keep living here?" he asked, watching me and letting it hang for a response. I nodded while still reeling in pain. "Then you'd better shut up and do as you're told." He empathized it by putting more weight in my stomach and left, closing my door behind himself.



I was in a right mess. I could feel my eye swelling lightly, and my vision blurred softly. I pulled myself to my feet, pain arcing through my shoulder again. There was a mirror across my room so I made my way over to assess the damages. My eye was bruised, but luckily it was only a little swollen. I could borrow a little of my mother's makeup to cover that. There seemed to be nothing wrong with my shoulder, but almost every movement had pain racing though it. I winced with every movement and made my way back to my bed and lay down, keeping as much weight off that side as I could. I couldn't sleep anymore, but I did dream about running away. Who knows, maybe I'll run away with that guy with the dreamy blue eyes.



---+++---



Work was a welcome escape. It wasn't hard, all I did was work as a cashier at a local grocers. There were some minor times when it was a little painful, usually when people would buy those giant bags of pet food. Still, I smiled and asked them how their day was. I mean, there are a lot of people coming through these places, and they're all really interesting. A lot more people will actually talk to you when you give them the old "how's your day" than you'd think. Not everyone, though.



That jock from school came through around seven o'clock with a group of his friends. They all started snickering when they saw me, and they put some beer up for me to ring up for them.



"Do you have any ID?" I ask him, and he flashes me a driver’s license that’s obviously fake. I look from them, to it, and back again. Did they expect me to believe it? Still, I didn't trust the looks on their faces as they all watched me. I didn't want to sell it to them, but my mind flashed back to my father, and I hung my head. The last ting I wanted was anything like that again. I nodded meekly and rung it up, taking their money for the register.



"Thanks for that, doll," one of them threw at me on their way out. I sigh looked out over the place. I felt so defeated lately. My mood seemed to match how busy were, as after that no one seemed to come through at all until eventually it was almost closing time when I saw a car pull into the car park. I tried to see how many people there were, but it was too dark to see from in here, and I had to just wait and see.



I sighed and rested on the counter. It had been a long day, and I couldn't wait to get home and sleep. I laughed a little at actually looking forward to be home, but I guess I'm more looking forward to getting some sleep than anything else.



My eyes started to close and my thoughts wandered about aimlessly. Hika, class, teachers. Bullies, memories, being late. My father. Those eyes. It's hard to believe that all that's happened today, those eyes are the most vivid thing I can picture. They're beautiful, elegant, so full of emotion. I could just about melt just off the thought of them.



The sound of footsteps just around from the counter knocked me out of my daze and I straightened up just in time to see those very eyes walk around and stop in front of me. I gaped for a second in disbelief. Those eyes stared back at me.



I blushed a little and looked over him with my eyes as he put a pack of gum on the counter. This is the best look I'd gotten of him so far, and the more I see, the more I like.



"You find everything alright?" I ask him with a sheepish grin. It's a bit of a redundant question, considering how quickly he came through the place. He obviously knew what he was looking for, and where to find it. Oh well. He looks at me, seemingly for the first time, and his eyes widened a bit as he realized it was me. I was a little surprised that he recognized me; we only had the one class together. Of course, I know I'm the type to stand out. I see myself everyday in the mirror, but no one else does. Especially those in a new school.



"Sort of, I want a pack of cigarettes too," he says, flashing me his ID. It's obviously not a fake, so I spend my two seconds looking at it to study his face. More and more amazing, I swear. I nodded. "Camel light, please."



"Okay," I said after feigning another look at the ID and stepping back to take the pack from the cabinet. I shook my head as I looked over the package as I placed it down onto the counter. "You know these things are bad for your health."



"And dying your hair is bad if you want your hair to stay healthy," he said, gesturing to my hair with his hand.



"Hey," I gaped at him, shaking my head lightly, "my hair happens to be naturally pink." I hastily punched some digits into the register and turned to give him a hard look.



"You seriously expect me to believe that?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.



"Well, yeah, 'cause it's true."



He sighed in frustration and held a hand to his forehead. "There's no way you can have naturally pink hair."



"Well," I said, feeling a slight grin grow onto my lips, "want me to prove it, then? the restroom's right over there," I nodded my head in the direction of a door leading out to the staff area.



His eyes seemed to go wide as he realized just what I suggested. I covered my mouth and managed to stop myself from laughing, but he just shoved some money in my hand. "You're sick if you're willing to dye that, too," he said dryly while snatching up his cigarettes and gum.



"I'm telling you, it's all natural."



"You're weird," he muttered with narrowing eyes.



"And you're hot," I said absently, then almost dropping his money under the counter. Did I just say that? I could feel my eyes widening slowly as it dawned on me that I'd let that slip. I mean, I know he's taken, I shouldn't say thing like that! "Uh," I felt my cheeks burn bright red and I turned to stuff the money into the register. "Well, have a good night!" I say hastily, hoping he'll either take the hint, or just get bored.



When I hear the doors close I sigh and rest my head against the wall. Here I was, thinking I had a chance to make the night end well, at least. I'd had a chance to befriend those dreamy eyes, but I had to ruin it with my big mouth. I always ruin it with my big mouth. That's what Dad always says. Anything can be true, I guess. Eventually.