Survival [Chapter 1]
Title: Survival
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: angst, zombies, apocalypse, character death, gore, AU, OOC, violence, language
Pairing(s): eventual Ian/Anthony, Anthony/OFC
Summary: After it was all over, they wanted to hear Ian Hecox's story. They wanted him to retell the hell that he went through, that he desperately wanted to forget. And he agreed to it.
Chapter Summary: Ian revisits horrible memories.
Author Note: After reading This is Not a Test (I highly recommend it) in only nine hours, I got this idea. Enjoy.
Previous Chapters: N/A
"What's your name?" Speaking. She was speaking to me. I look at her, drink in her perfectly curled blond hair, her determined emerald eyes, her flawless dress. She stares back at me, waiting for an answer.
I know I'm hesitating. For too long, that is. She's starting to get impatient. I look away from her for a second and take a deep breath. I regret agreeing to this, agreeing to any of this. It feels so wrong, so inhumane. Like the whole thing was just a figment of my imagination. Like people didn't actually die.
Dry. That's what my throat was. Was as dry as the Sahara. Water is what I need. But I never ask for it.
"Ian Hecox." I don't recognize my own voice. It's too hollow. Too distant. But it is my voice, I hope. It's another thing to add to the list of the things that I had lost during the whole thing.
Hope. That's the one thing that got me this far. That, and Anthony. Anthony. I wonder where he is at this moment, what he's doing, who he's with. He is probably at the bar. Probably drinking. He does a lot of that nowadays. Why isn't he here? Why was he drinking when he should be here, helping me through this?
Voices. It's the blond's again. She's trying to make me talk again. "Tell us a little bit about yourself, Ian." She wants me to say how old I am, why I'm here. But I don't want to. I know people don't care. Why should they? They don't even know me.
But I say my age anyway but I hesitate to say why I was there, being interviewed by an impatient blond who was determined to hear my story. I didn't want to tell her my story. I didn't want to tell her anything about myself because I knew she didn't care. No one did. They only cared about what I had experienced. They didn't care if I was okay or how I was doing after I survived. No, they only cared about the "interesting" part of the horror story that I called my life.
"I survived the zombie apocalypse." I don't tell her. I don't have to, she already knows. I'm telling the camera. I'm telling whoever cares enough to watch this. I'm telling anyone and everyone.
She dives right into questions from there. Where did you go? How long were you there? Who were you with? Did you move locations often? How did you get supplies? I didn't pay attention to them. I didn't care about the questions. Just like they didn't care about me.
Once she's done asking questions, I open my mouth. At first, nothing comes out but then, after a minute, they just float out carelessly.
•-•
part i: the gym
Running. That's what I was doing. Anthony's hand is in mine and we're running, Dylan in front of us with Aaron on his heels, Fiona on my right, Lelia next to Fiona and Zavier and Demetrius in the back. The sound of our feet hitting the ground were muffled by the cracking of the thunder and the pounding of rain hitting the pavement. Even with all the sounds, I can still hear them behind us, trying to reach out and grab us. Their ear-splitting screechs make me want to rip my hair out of my head.
It was dark but not dark enough so that we couldn't see. The gym was just ahead. I think back to ten days ago, when I was on the elliptical. I remember the aching of my legs as I got off after a half-an-hour straight of working them. The memory of the ache seemed dull compared to the aching of my legs now. I could barely feel them as I sprinted harder, pulling Anthony along with me.
We were going to make it. There was just a street between them and the gym. I ran harder, almost catching up with Dylan. Anthony was slowing me down though. I consider letting go of his hand but then decide against it; if I let go and something goes go, like he trips, I would never forgive myself. He's my best friend after all and nothing can happen to him. I would not allow it.
Just a few more steps. A few more steps and we're, fingers crossed, safe inside the gym. Pulling Anthony along, we make it to the front entrance. The building looks untouched. Well, as untouched as a building can look during a zombie apocalypse. Dylan and I both grope at the door handles, yanking at them. Mine would budge. Dylan's opens.
We slid inside, Dylan first and the rest of us go after him. I refuse to say it aloud but Dylan's our leader. I think everyone was thinking that but no one actually acknowledged it out loud.
Dylan was talking. Instructing. "Ian and Anthony, go scope out the second floor," he says. We nod but wait around for him to finish giving orders.
When we get to the weight room on the second floor, Anthony grips on my hand tighter than before.
"I'm glad we found this place," Anthony says, trying to make conversation. All I can do is nod in agreement, not trusting my voice. He continues speaking. I suspect it's because he's afraid of the silence but never accused him of it out loud. After a while, he goes quiet and I don't know if I'm thankful or sad. I'm mostly just numb.
Once we find that there are no walkers on the second floor as far as we could tell, I suggest we rejoin the group, even though I knew Anthony was thinking the exact same thing. I just wanted to break the silence, make the situation less scary for Anthony. He agrees.
Just as we are about to turn into the hallway that leads to the front entrance, where the rest of the group was or was going to, Anthony abruptly stops. I stop with him and am confused but Anthony just stays still, looking at me.
"Ant?" His name rolls off my tongue like it has for so many years. He doesn't speak but instead tugs at my arm and then pulls me close to him. He hugs me into his chest and I'm surprised and flustered. After a few moments he lets go of me and started walking again, as if the last few minutes had never happened.
I follow him, dazed, and we walk up to Demetrius and Lelia. They are standing, facing each other, a few feet away from the barricades that they had set up just minutes before. Dylan and Zavier are still boarding the windows and barricading the other doors. Aaron and Fiona are going around the first floor, looking for any signs of the zombies inside.
"Hey, anything?" Demetrius asks when we reach them.
"Nope, all good on the second floor," Anthony responses casually, staring at the barricades.
"That's good," Lelia commented and then there's silence because no one can think of anything to say and I'm perfectly okay with that. I glance at Anthony and can tell that he is searching for something to say, anything. I wonder what scares him about the silence. Maybe because it makes him feel lonely and I know for a fact that if there is anything is the world that Anthony hates the absolute most, it is feeling lonely.
Aaron and Fiona are the ones to come back next. The same thing happens with them, except this time Anthony asks and Fiona responds and Demetrius comments. I still haven't said anything and I'd like to keep it that way for a while. I need sometime to get settled and analyze the situation before I'm truly comfortable. Or rather, as comfortable as I can get.
We wait around until Dylan and Zavier come back, asking about the security sweep. We tell them (mostly Dylan) that everything went smoothly and that there is nothing to worry about.
"I think we should all get some sleep, it has been a long day," Zavier said, surprising everybody. I decided there that Zavier's going to be Dylan's second-in-command.
"I agree," Dylan says. "Let's regroup in the morning, after everyone has a good night's sleep."
I want to scoff. Like there was such thing as a "good night's sleep" anymore. You were lucky if you slept more than five hours straight nowadays. The nightmares woke you up. And if it wasn't the nightmares, it was either someone making sure you weren't dead or someone waking you up with their screams because of their own nightmares.
It didn't bother me as much as it used to, the screaming. My body started getting used to it that sometimes I don't even wake up. The only person that screams always wake me up are Anthony's. Every time it happens, I'd crawl up next to him and soothe him back to sleep.
Fiona once asked me how I did it, how I soothed Anthony back into sleep. I shrugged and told her years of practice, which wasn't a lie. Whenever we had a sleepover together when we were younger and times were better, Anthony would sometimes wake up screaming and I took it into my hands to keep him calm, make sure he got back to sleep. He still did it occasionally and I run into his room and dive on his bed and make him go back to sleep.
I feel Anthony take hold of my wrist and drag me into the room where they used to hold yoga and spin classes. The rest of the group join us, each grabbing a yoga mat from the bin. I choose the blue one because blue is my favorite color.
I'm sprawled out on my mat, ready to go to sleep when Aaron pokes at my arm. I look at him, trying to be angry at him but failing.
"What?" My voice is too flat for my liking.
"...Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you weren't dying on us."
I grunt and roll away from him, facing a sleeping Anthony, who was snoring like I haven't heard him snore since the whole world went to hell. I watch him sleep for a while and then decide to stop being creepy and start sleeping myself. My eyes slide close and then I'm out.
I dream of my mom and my dad sitting at the breakfast table, my dad reading the newspaper while my mom buttered her toast, like she did every morning. My sister was rummaging through the fridge, trying to find something, orange juice I think. There's an empty seat and an untouched plate that looked like it was made for me. I start walking towards it, but the more I walked towards it, the further it becomes. When I wake up, I start sobbing.
•-•
I know everyone knows that I was crying this morning but no one brings it up. I think they're scared that they'd rip open a closed wound and then I'd react violently. That might happen so I'm grateful that they don't. But I can still feel the questioning stares. I choose to ignore them.
Anthony tries to talk to me while Dylan and Aaron go searching for food. I tell him what he wants to hear: I'm fine. Yes, I'm sure I'm fine. It was just a nightmare. It was nothing. I knew he didn't believe me but he didn't push. He knew that would make me close up more.
Dylan and Aaron come back with a single can of yams. "We're saving the food. Everyone gets one piece each," Dylan says and the rest of us agree with him. It seems like that's just how things are going to be because (A) Dylan is always right and (B) Dylan's our leader. I don't really mind; he seems to know what he's doing.
Anthony keeps glancing at me as we eat our yams in silence. After I'm done, I get up and leave the yoga and spin classroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Anthony about to get up and follow me but Lelia pulls him back into his seat and shakes her head. I make a mental note to thank her later.
I walk to the fitness room and sit on a treadmill. I don't move until I hear footsteps. I listen closely and decide they're too heavy to be Anthony's and I'm relieved. I don't want to talk to him right now. Demetrius walks into the fitness room and sits on the treadmill beside mine. He doesn't talk, he just watches me.
I decide I like Demetrius. He's big and strong and knows how to use his body to protect himself and others. But, he's really smart too. He knows if it's safe or not. I'm glad he's with us and not one of them. I'm glad he's alive. I'm glad he's him.
"Anthony's worried about you," he says. I nod because I already know that. He continues, "Lelia told him you needed some time alone. I agree but I came up here to make sure you're okay. I mean, it's been a rough couple of days for all of us."
I know what he's means. I try not to dwell on it but I know what he means. I hate that I know what he means. Losing Jordyn during the run to the Myers's field was hard on everybody, espeically Lelia. I hope she didn't get turned but I know she did. I just want to believe that she didn't. I stay quiet and he stops talking and we're just sitting there, avoiding each other's gazes. I think this is childish. We need to move on, that's what Jordyn would want us to do.
"I'm going back to the classroom," I say and then stand up. Demetrius nods and then says he'll catch up later. I knew he needed some time alone. Everyone did.
I get down to the classroom quickly, quicker than I wanted to, and open the door. I freeze just as I am about to step inside. I want to gasp. I want to scream. I want to be able to move my mouth. I can't. I'm frozen, shocked and hurt.
Aaron and Zavier open the other door that leads into the classroom. Aaron takes one look at the site and says, "Jesus, really guys? In here?"
Anthony looks up at Aaron, cheeks burning, lips bruised from kissing and immediately slides off of Fiona, whose hair is a mess, clothes are crooked and cheeks flushed. I try to make a sound but then decide to just shut the door and walk away. I knew Aaron and Zavier saw me but I hope Anthony didn't see. I now know why Fiona wanted to know how I did it, how I soothed Anthony to sleep. Because she probably wants to but can't.
I run to the turf field and track that's in the basement of the gym. My old cross country team used to come here in the winter when the temperature was below freezing. I began to run the track, my legs feeling stiff in my jeans. The burning from last night came back quickly and I knew immediately that I should stop. I can't be injured in case we have to move locations again.
I hear the door open. I hope it's not Anthony, pray even that's it not him. And it's not. Instead, Zavier's standing, watching me. I slow to a walk and then look at him. He looks tired, restless even. I guess he didn't get much sleep last night. His gaze on me is apologetic, like he was the one that should sorry.
"Ian," he says, deep voice wavering. "Are you okay?"
I'm sick, I want to say. I'm sick of everyone asking me if I'm okay because it's pretty obvious that I'm not. Who would be okay in this situation? It's a fucking given that I'm not o-fucking-kay.
But I don't say any of that. I just stare at Zavier. He doesn't back down though, he just stares back and I know what he's thinking and he's wrong. I want to tell him that no, I'm not fucking jealous, I'm just in shock. And that no, I do not harbor any feelings for Anthony. I do say some of it but I say it politely.
Zavier just stares at me, searching my eyes for something. To tell if I'm lying, I'm guessing. I stare back because I know that I'm right. That I don't like Anthony that way, never did, never will. It wouldn't be right. Nothing would be right if I did.
Zavier leaves after that. He's tired of everything, I can tell. I hate making him more tired because we need him. Everyone in our group needs him. I want to follow, apologize but I don't. I'll do that later. I want to be alone right now.
But I'm not. Anthony comes in right after Zavier leaves. I don't want to see him right now but I don't think he cares. I'm not ready to talk him. I wasn't ready this morning but after sitting with Demetrius, I was and then I walked in on Anthony and knew he wasn't ready to talk and not I'm not anymore when he's ready. It's confusing and annoying.
"Ian," he says gently. I don't want him to speak to me like that, like I'm weak and delicate when I'm not. I can't be.
I don't say anything because I have nothing to say. I'm not ready, not ready, not ready, not ready. I can't say that though because Anthony wouldn't care. He'd just talk at me and I wouldn't listen and then he'll yell and I still won't listen and then he'll grab me and I'll give him a look and then he'll back off. It's happened before and I don't want it to happen again.
I start to walk towards to door, making an escape. I don't want to talk to Anthony so I'm not going to, it was that simple. But no, it's not that simple. Anthony blocks the door. He's desperate to talk to me and I don't want to talk to him. I really, really don't want to.
"Ian, let me explain," he pleads.
"I don't want you to explain, I understand perfectly," I snap at him because I don't want to talk to him. He steps back like I'm about to slap him. Maybe I am about to slap him because he doesn't understand that I'm not ready to talk yet. Maybe he doesn't understand because I haven't told him. I don't know.
"No, Ian, you don't understand," Anthony argues because I really don't.
"Then enlighten me," I mutter because I don't want to be having this conversation right now but I just told him to continue it anyway. I want to slap myself more than I want to slap Anthony.
"I…" he paused. He doesn't know what to say. I know what he's thinking. He's thinking I'm lonely, she's lonely, we're stuck in a fucked-up world and it made sense. It was right. I didn't need him to say it out loud because now I understand.
I try to push past him but he latches onto my wrist and yanks me back. I give him a look but his grip doesn't let up like it always does. Instead, it gets stronger.
"Why do you even care so much?" Anthony snaps at me and I want to snap back at him, but I don't because I'm not ready to fight yet. Instead I take a deep breath and say, "I don't."
He becomes more frustrated. "Bullshit Ian, you do and you know it."
I pause for a moment, thinking of what to say next. I can insult him but I decide against it. Insults would just make the conversation longer than it has to be. So instead I decide on, "Why do you even care?" It gets him talking so I don't have to.
"Why do I care? I care because you're my best friend and instead you're acting like a jealous girlfriend and I want to know fucking why. Why are you acting like a girlfriend, Ian? Do you like me or something?!"
A sound echoes in the room. He's holding his cheek. My hand in on fire. I know he's on edge, we all are. But he had no right. And I don't have the right to slap him but I did. I tell him he had no right and then walk out of the room, choking on tears as I left.
I don't go back to yoga and spin room. I go back to the fitness room and am surprised to find that Demetrius hadn't left. It had to be at least forty-five minutes since I last left him. He looks up at me and his face softens when he sees the tears that streak my face.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he says quietly and I shake my head and let out a sob. He pulls me down and rubs my shoulder, letting me crying into his. I'm too sensitive, I decide.
We're there for a while, me crying while Demetrius tries to calm me down. I decide there that I really like Demetrius. He's strong, smart and kind. I even more grateful he's in the group than before. I hope he doesn't mention it to the others. But then I decide that maybe he'll tell Dylan because he's the leader but that it. Demetrius is just that kind of guy, the one that you know that you can trust.
I stop crying after that. "I'm sorry," I tell Demetrius because I feel like I have to. I wasn't his problem and he comforted me anyway.
Demetrius shakes his head, as if that would reject my apology. "There's no need," he replies and I know he means it. I want to start crying again because I'm thankful for Demetrius but I don't. Instead, I hug him.
He's taken back at first, almost letting me push him over. After he recovers, he hugs me back, just not as tightly. I like the feeling on him, solid again my chest, huge hands patting my back. I release him and apologize again. He holds his hand up and says, "Please stop apologizing; I don't want to hear it." I can't be more grateful that Demetrius is part of our group.
•-•
When lunch rolls around, everything is awkward. Fiona is avoiding my gaze at all costs while Anthony just couldn't stop staring at me. Demetrius, Zavier and Aaron were throwing me worried glances while Dylan glares at Fiona and Anthony disapprovingly and Lelia just looks confused. I guess no one had filled her in.
No one speaks. The only sound in the room is the sound of chewing. The silence is deafening. I should say something. Maybe I should tell that joke about Tony Hawk's brother, Mike. I open my mouth to tell it but Dylan beats me to the punch.
"This needs to stop," he says sternly. "All this drama and tension between everyone needs to stop. I don't care who started it or why it happen, or what had happened for that matter, it all just needs to stop."
I want to agree with him out loud but it would probably make things more awkward. Instead Lelia says, "I don't know what happened but Dylan's right, it does need to stop."
I sneak a glance at Anthony. He seems angry. I don't know what about, probably at me or maybe at Dylan, but he seems angry and I don't like it. I want to say something to him but I decide against. We both need time to cool down.
After he's done, Anthony stomps out of the room and down the hall. I think he's going to the basketball courts but I don't know for sure. Fiona gets up and follows him. The thought of them together makes me sick to my stomach.
I lose my appetite after that but finish the yams anyway for the sake of not wasting food. Demetrius sends me an apologetic look, just like Zavier had did when we were on the turf field. I sigh and lay on my yoga mat, wanting sleep to claim me, hoping that the day would end and I'd wake up, back in my bedroom with Anthony across the hall and we'd make a Lunchtime with Smosh and everything would be fine. But, of course, this doesn't happen.
•-•
Ta-da! This is my new story! Should I continue? Tell me what you think!~
Next Chapter
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: angst, zombies, apocalypse, character death, gore, AU, OOC, violence, language
Pairing(s): eventual Ian/Anthony, Anthony/OFC
Summary: After it was all over, they wanted to hear Ian Hecox's story. They wanted him to retell the hell that he went through, that he desperately wanted to forget. And he agreed to it.
Chapter Summary: Ian revisits horrible memories.
Author Note: After reading This is Not a Test (I highly recommend it) in only nine hours, I got this idea. Enjoy.
Previous Chapters: N/A
"What's your name?" Speaking. She was speaking to me. I look at her, drink in her perfectly curled blond hair, her determined emerald eyes, her flawless dress. She stares back at me, waiting for an answer.
I know I'm hesitating. For too long, that is. She's starting to get impatient. I look away from her for a second and take a deep breath. I regret agreeing to this, agreeing to any of this. It feels so wrong, so inhumane. Like the whole thing was just a figment of my imagination. Like people didn't actually die.
Dry. That's what my throat was. Was as dry as the Sahara. Water is what I need. But I never ask for it.
"Ian Hecox." I don't recognize my own voice. It's too hollow. Too distant. But it is my voice, I hope. It's another thing to add to the list of the things that I had lost during the whole thing.
Hope. That's the one thing that got me this far. That, and Anthony. Anthony. I wonder where he is at this moment, what he's doing, who he's with. He is probably at the bar. Probably drinking. He does a lot of that nowadays. Why isn't he here? Why was he drinking when he should be here, helping me through this?
Voices. It's the blond's again. She's trying to make me talk again. "Tell us a little bit about yourself, Ian." She wants me to say how old I am, why I'm here. But I don't want to. I know people don't care. Why should they? They don't even know me.
But I say my age anyway but I hesitate to say why I was there, being interviewed by an impatient blond who was determined to hear my story. I didn't want to tell her my story. I didn't want to tell her anything about myself because I knew she didn't care. No one did. They only cared about what I had experienced. They didn't care if I was okay or how I was doing after I survived. No, they only cared about the "interesting" part of the horror story that I called my life.
"I survived the zombie apocalypse." I don't tell her. I don't have to, she already knows. I'm telling the camera. I'm telling whoever cares enough to watch this. I'm telling anyone and everyone.
She dives right into questions from there. Where did you go? How long were you there? Who were you with? Did you move locations often? How did you get supplies? I didn't pay attention to them. I didn't care about the questions. Just like they didn't care about me.
Once she's done asking questions, I open my mouth. At first, nothing comes out but then, after a minute, they just float out carelessly.
•-•
part i: the gym
Running. That's what I was doing. Anthony's hand is in mine and we're running, Dylan in front of us with Aaron on his heels, Fiona on my right, Lelia next to Fiona and Zavier and Demetrius in the back. The sound of our feet hitting the ground were muffled by the cracking of the thunder and the pounding of rain hitting the pavement. Even with all the sounds, I can still hear them behind us, trying to reach out and grab us. Their ear-splitting screechs make me want to rip my hair out of my head.
It was dark but not dark enough so that we couldn't see. The gym was just ahead. I think back to ten days ago, when I was on the elliptical. I remember the aching of my legs as I got off after a half-an-hour straight of working them. The memory of the ache seemed dull compared to the aching of my legs now. I could barely feel them as I sprinted harder, pulling Anthony along with me.
We were going to make it. There was just a street between them and the gym. I ran harder, almost catching up with Dylan. Anthony was slowing me down though. I consider letting go of his hand but then decide against it; if I let go and something goes go, like he trips, I would never forgive myself. He's my best friend after all and nothing can happen to him. I would not allow it.
Just a few more steps. A few more steps and we're, fingers crossed, safe inside the gym. Pulling Anthony along, we make it to the front entrance. The building looks untouched. Well, as untouched as a building can look during a zombie apocalypse. Dylan and I both grope at the door handles, yanking at them. Mine would budge. Dylan's opens.
We slid inside, Dylan first and the rest of us go after him. I refuse to say it aloud but Dylan's our leader. I think everyone was thinking that but no one actually acknowledged it out loud.
Dylan was talking. Instructing. "Ian and Anthony, go scope out the second floor," he says. We nod but wait around for him to finish giving orders.
When we get to the weight room on the second floor, Anthony grips on my hand tighter than before.
"I'm glad we found this place," Anthony says, trying to make conversation. All I can do is nod in agreement, not trusting my voice. He continues speaking. I suspect it's because he's afraid of the silence but never accused him of it out loud. After a while, he goes quiet and I don't know if I'm thankful or sad. I'm mostly just numb.
Once we find that there are no walkers on the second floor as far as we could tell, I suggest we rejoin the group, even though I knew Anthony was thinking the exact same thing. I just wanted to break the silence, make the situation less scary for Anthony. He agrees.
Just as we are about to turn into the hallway that leads to the front entrance, where the rest of the group was or was going to, Anthony abruptly stops. I stop with him and am confused but Anthony just stays still, looking at me.
"Ant?" His name rolls off my tongue like it has for so many years. He doesn't speak but instead tugs at my arm and then pulls me close to him. He hugs me into his chest and I'm surprised and flustered. After a few moments he lets go of me and started walking again, as if the last few minutes had never happened.
I follow him, dazed, and we walk up to Demetrius and Lelia. They are standing, facing each other, a few feet away from the barricades that they had set up just minutes before. Dylan and Zavier are still boarding the windows and barricading the other doors. Aaron and Fiona are going around the first floor, looking for any signs of the zombies inside.
"Hey, anything?" Demetrius asks when we reach them.
"Nope, all good on the second floor," Anthony responses casually, staring at the barricades.
"That's good," Lelia commented and then there's silence because no one can think of anything to say and I'm perfectly okay with that. I glance at Anthony and can tell that he is searching for something to say, anything. I wonder what scares him about the silence. Maybe because it makes him feel lonely and I know for a fact that if there is anything is the world that Anthony hates the absolute most, it is feeling lonely.
Aaron and Fiona are the ones to come back next. The same thing happens with them, except this time Anthony asks and Fiona responds and Demetrius comments. I still haven't said anything and I'd like to keep it that way for a while. I need sometime to get settled and analyze the situation before I'm truly comfortable. Or rather, as comfortable as I can get.
We wait around until Dylan and Zavier come back, asking about the security sweep. We tell them (mostly Dylan) that everything went smoothly and that there is nothing to worry about.
"I think we should all get some sleep, it has been a long day," Zavier said, surprising everybody. I decided there that Zavier's going to be Dylan's second-in-command.
"I agree," Dylan says. "Let's regroup in the morning, after everyone has a good night's sleep."
I want to scoff. Like there was such thing as a "good night's sleep" anymore. You were lucky if you slept more than five hours straight nowadays. The nightmares woke you up. And if it wasn't the nightmares, it was either someone making sure you weren't dead or someone waking you up with their screams because of their own nightmares.
It didn't bother me as much as it used to, the screaming. My body started getting used to it that sometimes I don't even wake up. The only person that screams always wake me up are Anthony's. Every time it happens, I'd crawl up next to him and soothe him back to sleep.
Fiona once asked me how I did it, how I soothed Anthony back into sleep. I shrugged and told her years of practice, which wasn't a lie. Whenever we had a sleepover together when we were younger and times were better, Anthony would sometimes wake up screaming and I took it into my hands to keep him calm, make sure he got back to sleep. He still did it occasionally and I run into his room and dive on his bed and make him go back to sleep.
I feel Anthony take hold of my wrist and drag me into the room where they used to hold yoga and spin classes. The rest of the group join us, each grabbing a yoga mat from the bin. I choose the blue one because blue is my favorite color.
I'm sprawled out on my mat, ready to go to sleep when Aaron pokes at my arm. I look at him, trying to be angry at him but failing.
"What?" My voice is too flat for my liking.
"...Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you weren't dying on us."
I grunt and roll away from him, facing a sleeping Anthony, who was snoring like I haven't heard him snore since the whole world went to hell. I watch him sleep for a while and then decide to stop being creepy and start sleeping myself. My eyes slide close and then I'm out.
I dream of my mom and my dad sitting at the breakfast table, my dad reading the newspaper while my mom buttered her toast, like she did every morning. My sister was rummaging through the fridge, trying to find something, orange juice I think. There's an empty seat and an untouched plate that looked like it was made for me. I start walking towards it, but the more I walked towards it, the further it becomes. When I wake up, I start sobbing.
•-•
I know everyone knows that I was crying this morning but no one brings it up. I think they're scared that they'd rip open a closed wound and then I'd react violently. That might happen so I'm grateful that they don't. But I can still feel the questioning stares. I choose to ignore them.
Anthony tries to talk to me while Dylan and Aaron go searching for food. I tell him what he wants to hear: I'm fine. Yes, I'm sure I'm fine. It was just a nightmare. It was nothing. I knew he didn't believe me but he didn't push. He knew that would make me close up more.
Dylan and Aaron come back with a single can of yams. "We're saving the food. Everyone gets one piece each," Dylan says and the rest of us agree with him. It seems like that's just how things are going to be because (A) Dylan is always right and (B) Dylan's our leader. I don't really mind; he seems to know what he's doing.
Anthony keeps glancing at me as we eat our yams in silence. After I'm done, I get up and leave the yoga and spin classroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Anthony about to get up and follow me but Lelia pulls him back into his seat and shakes her head. I make a mental note to thank her later.
I walk to the fitness room and sit on a treadmill. I don't move until I hear footsteps. I listen closely and decide they're too heavy to be Anthony's and I'm relieved. I don't want to talk to him right now. Demetrius walks into the fitness room and sits on the treadmill beside mine. He doesn't talk, he just watches me.
I decide I like Demetrius. He's big and strong and knows how to use his body to protect himself and others. But, he's really smart too. He knows if it's safe or not. I'm glad he's with us and not one of them. I'm glad he's alive. I'm glad he's him.
"Anthony's worried about you," he says. I nod because I already know that. He continues, "Lelia told him you needed some time alone. I agree but I came up here to make sure you're okay. I mean, it's been a rough couple of days for all of us."
I know what he's means. I try not to dwell on it but I know what he means. I hate that I know what he means. Losing Jordyn during the run to the Myers's field was hard on everybody, espeically Lelia. I hope she didn't get turned but I know she did. I just want to believe that she didn't. I stay quiet and he stops talking and we're just sitting there, avoiding each other's gazes. I think this is childish. We need to move on, that's what Jordyn would want us to do.
"I'm going back to the classroom," I say and then stand up. Demetrius nods and then says he'll catch up later. I knew he needed some time alone. Everyone did.
I get down to the classroom quickly, quicker than I wanted to, and open the door. I freeze just as I am about to step inside. I want to gasp. I want to scream. I want to be able to move my mouth. I can't. I'm frozen, shocked and hurt.
Aaron and Zavier open the other door that leads into the classroom. Aaron takes one look at the site and says, "Jesus, really guys? In here?"
Anthony looks up at Aaron, cheeks burning, lips bruised from kissing and immediately slides off of Fiona, whose hair is a mess, clothes are crooked and cheeks flushed. I try to make a sound but then decide to just shut the door and walk away. I knew Aaron and Zavier saw me but I hope Anthony didn't see. I now know why Fiona wanted to know how I did it, how I soothed Anthony to sleep. Because she probably wants to but can't.
I run to the turf field and track that's in the basement of the gym. My old cross country team used to come here in the winter when the temperature was below freezing. I began to run the track, my legs feeling stiff in my jeans. The burning from last night came back quickly and I knew immediately that I should stop. I can't be injured in case we have to move locations again.
I hear the door open. I hope it's not Anthony, pray even that's it not him. And it's not. Instead, Zavier's standing, watching me. I slow to a walk and then look at him. He looks tired, restless even. I guess he didn't get much sleep last night. His gaze on me is apologetic, like he was the one that should sorry.
"Ian," he says, deep voice wavering. "Are you okay?"
I'm sick, I want to say. I'm sick of everyone asking me if I'm okay because it's pretty obvious that I'm not. Who would be okay in this situation? It's a fucking given that I'm not o-fucking-kay.
But I don't say any of that. I just stare at Zavier. He doesn't back down though, he just stares back and I know what he's thinking and he's wrong. I want to tell him that no, I'm not fucking jealous, I'm just in shock. And that no, I do not harbor any feelings for Anthony. I do say some of it but I say it politely.
Zavier just stares at me, searching my eyes for something. To tell if I'm lying, I'm guessing. I stare back because I know that I'm right. That I don't like Anthony that way, never did, never will. It wouldn't be right. Nothing would be right if I did.
Zavier leaves after that. He's tired of everything, I can tell. I hate making him more tired because we need him. Everyone in our group needs him. I want to follow, apologize but I don't. I'll do that later. I want to be alone right now.
But I'm not. Anthony comes in right after Zavier leaves. I don't want to see him right now but I don't think he cares. I'm not ready to talk him. I wasn't ready this morning but after sitting with Demetrius, I was and then I walked in on Anthony and knew he wasn't ready to talk and not I'm not anymore when he's ready. It's confusing and annoying.
"Ian," he says gently. I don't want him to speak to me like that, like I'm weak and delicate when I'm not. I can't be.
I don't say anything because I have nothing to say. I'm not ready, not ready, not ready, not ready. I can't say that though because Anthony wouldn't care. He'd just talk at me and I wouldn't listen and then he'll yell and I still won't listen and then he'll grab me and I'll give him a look and then he'll back off. It's happened before and I don't want it to happen again.
I start to walk towards to door, making an escape. I don't want to talk to Anthony so I'm not going to, it was that simple. But no, it's not that simple. Anthony blocks the door. He's desperate to talk to me and I don't want to talk to him. I really, really don't want to.
"Ian, let me explain," he pleads.
"I don't want you to explain, I understand perfectly," I snap at him because I don't want to talk to him. He steps back like I'm about to slap him. Maybe I am about to slap him because he doesn't understand that I'm not ready to talk yet. Maybe he doesn't understand because I haven't told him. I don't know.
"No, Ian, you don't understand," Anthony argues because I really don't.
"Then enlighten me," I mutter because I don't want to be having this conversation right now but I just told him to continue it anyway. I want to slap myself more than I want to slap Anthony.
"I…" he paused. He doesn't know what to say. I know what he's thinking. He's thinking I'm lonely, she's lonely, we're stuck in a fucked-up world and it made sense. It was right. I didn't need him to say it out loud because now I understand.
I try to push past him but he latches onto my wrist and yanks me back. I give him a look but his grip doesn't let up like it always does. Instead, it gets stronger.
"Why do you even care so much?" Anthony snaps at me and I want to snap back at him, but I don't because I'm not ready to fight yet. Instead I take a deep breath and say, "I don't."
He becomes more frustrated. "Bullshit Ian, you do and you know it."
I pause for a moment, thinking of what to say next. I can insult him but I decide against it. Insults would just make the conversation longer than it has to be. So instead I decide on, "Why do you even care?" It gets him talking so I don't have to.
"Why do I care? I care because you're my best friend and instead you're acting like a jealous girlfriend and I want to know fucking why. Why are you acting like a girlfriend, Ian? Do you like me or something?!"
A sound echoes in the room. He's holding his cheek. My hand in on fire. I know he's on edge, we all are. But he had no right. And I don't have the right to slap him but I did. I tell him he had no right and then walk out of the room, choking on tears as I left.
I don't go back to yoga and spin room. I go back to the fitness room and am surprised to find that Demetrius hadn't left. It had to be at least forty-five minutes since I last left him. He looks up at me and his face softens when he sees the tears that streak my face.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he says quietly and I shake my head and let out a sob. He pulls me down and rubs my shoulder, letting me crying into his. I'm too sensitive, I decide.
We're there for a while, me crying while Demetrius tries to calm me down. I decide there that I really like Demetrius. He's strong, smart and kind. I even more grateful he's in the group than before. I hope he doesn't mention it to the others. But then I decide that maybe he'll tell Dylan because he's the leader but that it. Demetrius is just that kind of guy, the one that you know that you can trust.
I stop crying after that. "I'm sorry," I tell Demetrius because I feel like I have to. I wasn't his problem and he comforted me anyway.
Demetrius shakes his head, as if that would reject my apology. "There's no need," he replies and I know he means it. I want to start crying again because I'm thankful for Demetrius but I don't. Instead, I hug him.
He's taken back at first, almost letting me push him over. After he recovers, he hugs me back, just not as tightly. I like the feeling on him, solid again my chest, huge hands patting my back. I release him and apologize again. He holds his hand up and says, "Please stop apologizing; I don't want to hear it." I can't be more grateful that Demetrius is part of our group.
•-•
When lunch rolls around, everything is awkward. Fiona is avoiding my gaze at all costs while Anthony just couldn't stop staring at me. Demetrius, Zavier and Aaron were throwing me worried glances while Dylan glares at Fiona and Anthony disapprovingly and Lelia just looks confused. I guess no one had filled her in.
No one speaks. The only sound in the room is the sound of chewing. The silence is deafening. I should say something. Maybe I should tell that joke about Tony Hawk's brother, Mike. I open my mouth to tell it but Dylan beats me to the punch.
"This needs to stop," he says sternly. "All this drama and tension between everyone needs to stop. I don't care who started it or why it happen, or what had happened for that matter, it all just needs to stop."
I want to agree with him out loud but it would probably make things more awkward. Instead Lelia says, "I don't know what happened but Dylan's right, it does need to stop."
I sneak a glance at Anthony. He seems angry. I don't know what about, probably at me or maybe at Dylan, but he seems angry and I don't like it. I want to say something to him but I decide against. We both need time to cool down.
After he's done, Anthony stomps out of the room and down the hall. I think he's going to the basketball courts but I don't know for sure. Fiona gets up and follows him. The thought of them together makes me sick to my stomach.
I lose my appetite after that but finish the yams anyway for the sake of not wasting food. Demetrius sends me an apologetic look, just like Zavier had did when we were on the turf field. I sigh and lay on my yoga mat, wanting sleep to claim me, hoping that the day would end and I'd wake up, back in my bedroom with Anthony across the hall and we'd make a Lunchtime with Smosh and everything would be fine. But, of course, this doesn't happen.
•-•
Ta-da! This is my new story! Should I continue? Tell me what you think!~
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