Ch. (0,4): Crossing Paths of Parallel Lines

"You seem better now. Next time, don't come to that sketchy club, and never involve yourself with those types of people." He said, taking off his denim jacket and draping it all over my shoulders. "Get up. I'll show you the way to the bus stop."

He casually said and walked on his own. I caught up to him despite feeling so embarrassed. But he didn't say any words after that. And it didn't take long before we also arrived at a bus stop on the highway.

"You might want to cover up if you don't want to show that off." He turned and warned me. I looked down at my chest and saw those disgusting marks that that bastard left. I hurriedly fixed the buttons of his jacket on me, but after that, he was gone.

I sat on the bench, waiting for my bus. Sometimes I'd look around, hoping to see that man again. I felt giddy by myself. I mean, how can I not? However, that euphoria didn't last long when I realized that even roller coasters end: a day full of sadness, fear, hate, thrill, and a teensy bit of fluttering butterflies had to be put on a pedestal, so I could go back to living my shitty life which I failed to cut.

It was already eleven, and my mom had called me thrice. That bastard also shamelessly called me and sent me threats. I blocked him and disabled my location, but I was still scared. Strangely, this jacket, which smelled like a cigarette plume, comforted me and made me feel safe. It was the first time that my hate for the thing that my mom told me would kill me instantly dissolved. Even though I know that what she said was scientifically correct, I still love this scent.

When I got home, my mom was still in the living room among the piles of paper works. "Why did you come home so late?" She questioned me as she did with her client's opposition. "I called you three times, didn't I? Why did you not answer my call? Where have you been? Answer me."

'Mom, I was almost raped,' I voiced out in my head. But I could never tell her that. "I hang out with a friend," I adamantly lied.

"Why do you smell like that? Was staying your whole childhood in the hospital not enough to make you realize it's bad for you?!" She was fuming with anger and pointed her index finger at me.

"I did not smoke," I defended myself. She could tell I smelled different, but she didn't even notice I was wearing a different jacket.

"Do you think I'm gullible, Sky Lee? I mean, what did I expect? You're a liar, just like your dad," She scoffed and pointed to my room. "Go to your bed."

I did as she told me and locked my room very well.

I took off the jacket and the rest of my clothes. I bore myself naked in the shower room and let the water drops overlap the tears I couldn't contain any longer. I couldn't tell mom and dad or anyone what happened. My past actions proved that I'm a liar, a snitch, and an untrustworthy brat. Would they also think that it was my fault that I almost got violated?

I rubbed the places that that jerk touched. I used a lot of body wash and stayed in the shower for so long just to erase the feeling which made me feel so dirty. I rubbed them until my skin turned so red and painful. At least it was better than having those annoying hickeys. I don't know for how long, but I stayed in the shower until I got dizzy.

I lay down on my bed and processed everything that happened. I asked myself what could have happened if my plan to die today had succeeded. How would they feel if I really died?

I sighed and smelled this jacket. For a brief moment, I was reminded that I was kissed by a handsome and cool guy, and that's everything that matters. I fooled myself by forgetting how scary this day was and just thought of one thing to get through. Thankfully, it wasn't so hard to wrap my head around the fact of my first kiss, and at least with that, I could breathe lightly.

I slept soundly that night. It would have been perfect if not for the fever and cold the next day. I was bedridden the whole day, and my dad was there to take care of me. I didn't know how to interact with him, so I closed my eyes and faked sleeping until I made it.

I woke up the next day, healed from all that fever. My mom took my temperature herself, so I couldn't make any excuses to take a leave of absence. I hesitantly wore that new Roseburg uniform and put on that denim jacket over my coat. And because I failed at executing my plan, I have no choice but to endure another day in hell.

I wore a facemask to pretend that I was still sick. It was my only excuse to refuse to talk and answer what I couldn't. My seatmate, who was either sleeping or absent, was not in his seat when I arrived, making me feel relieved that I could sit comfortably at the back. Our first class was still hard as fuck, I didn't really care about a single thing they discussed, but it's still scary when the teacher's looking for someone to answer their questions.

Of course, this class wouldn't be hell if the Chemistry teacher did not give a surprise quiz…

Sigh*

I gazed at the equations on the board. It was hopeless for me to figure out how to solve it, so I pondered why I revealed my father's adultery instead. Why was I so bored at that time and made my life more complicated by moving out of my rural cave, knowing I was a caveman through and through? Ugh! My metaphor is becoming worse, I likened myself to a monkey the other day, and now I'm a caveman. When will I evolve into a proper human being?

Following the downturn trend of my self-esteem, I looked down to stare at the blank piece of paper on my desk, and I was surprised to see a chicken's handwritten answer next to it.

I wonder if I should be thankful or angry for making me copy an answer I couldn't understand more than what was doodled on the board. Then I looked at the name written on the upper part of the paper… The penmanship was ugly. What's worse was that the only thing comprehensible out of everything written on it was the last name I wouldn't have wanted anything to do with— Rainier Seo.

Isn't he the guy who's friends with bullies who's basically a bully himself? He's that intelligent guy who doesn't need to listen or attend class to be the top one, right? He's that good-looking guy that night who smelled like a cigar—

"—rette," I couldn't help but speak the continuation of my thoughts when I saw the face of my notorious seatmate. "You?"