Chapter 8

I Scrolled through social media most of the day in my room without doing anything significant, watching funny videos and dog videos I didn’t even know when it became dark out; I felt like stretching my legs a bit; I haven’t worked out since I got here.

I changed into something more comfortable for a run or just a walk around the open field in the institution, a black sports bra and black yoga pants that showed my endowed backside. I paired them with white sneakers, picked up my fitness watch and headset, and left the room.

People were hanging around in the living room, but I ignored them and went to do my business. I heard someone whistle as I left but ignored whoever it was that got attracted by bubble butts.

I stretched before starting my run to loosen my muscles so I wouldn’t have sore muscles tomorrow when I woke up. An hour into casually jogging around the field, I decided to rest a bit before picking up the pace for the last rounds. I sat on the bleachers taking deep breaths; when I heard some noise from behind, I looked around, but no one was there, making me even more curious.

My curiosity got the best of me as I stood up and went to the back of the bleacher to see what was happening; I wished I had never done this. I honestly wished I wasn’t a nosy curious person; I wasn’t prepared for what assaulted my eyes and ears next.

“Ah, it feels so good,” a feminine voice moaned out, and I stopped in my tracks, seeing the shadow of two people going at it at the back of the bleachers.

“More, please give me more, Dylan,” the voice moaned out in pleasure; the voice I was familiar with sounded like Arla, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Arla and Dylan were together.

But if they were, would they need to sneak around?

“Ah fuck I’m so close,” Dylan groaned.

I hurriedly retraced my steps, not wanting to be seen or to disturb their pleasurable moments.

Soon after, as I ran the last round, I saw them coming out from behind the bleachers and went inside as I pretended I didn’t see them. It’s none of my business anyway, and besides, what should be expected when hormonal teenagers of the opposite sex are placed in the same place?

I lay on the field, enjoying the late-night air as I watched the stars, thinking.

She loved the stars; she would always drag me to the rooftop to watch the beautiful sea of stars at night.

The memories started bringing back unwanted feelings that I had buried; I usually would look for things to do immediately to get my mind off it but not tonight. Tonight, I don’t want to forget or distract myself; I will enjoy and bask in whatever feeling comes with the memories.

Anger? Hatred? Sadness? I want to feel everything tonight, and tomorrow, I can go back to pretending I’ve no understanding of human feelings.

It’s so beautiful. She grinned at me, pointing to the sky filled with stars.

“Hmm,” I replied, not knowing why she was so happy about sitting in the cold night watching the stars.

“I like the stars!” she exclaimed innocently with a bright smile that never seemed to disappear.

“Why?” I asked genuinely asked out of curiosity

“Because they are so pretty! And so high up in the sky. It’s like nothing can touch them up there. They still shine their light despite the moon being brighter than them; they didn’t get intimidated. That’s why I like them. What about you, Sammy? What do you like?” she asked, looking at the side of my head as I looked at the sky.

What do I like?

“I like spending time with you.”

I felt a soft and warm cloth drop on my face, and someone lay beside me on the grass, bringing me out of memory lane.

“It’s cold out here, stupid,” Aaron said

I picked up the piece of clothing from my face and saw it was a blanket; I didn’t realize how cold it had become until I felt the goose bumps on my arms.

“Thank you,” I whispered, but he heard me as he hummed in reply.

We lay in a comfortable silence as neither of us tried to say anything to the other. I looked to my side to see Aaron’s eyes closed; his face looked like something out of a magazine as he rested his head on his arm facing the sky, strong and sharp jawline and pink and slim lips; I noticed his freckles as the light shined on his face, his arm muscles twitched as he adjusted himself.

“Want to know why I am here?” he suddenly asked, and I couldn’t help but look at him in surprise.

“Why?” I find myself asking out of curiosity

“I wanted to be away from home; I needed to get out of a place that suffocates me and drags my soul out of me daily. I’m a love child; you know what that means, right?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at me; I gave him a nod, and he continued.

“My dad fucked up his arranged marriage by sleeping with his girlfriend of two years a week after his wedding. According to them, they were in love and had planned to get married before the arranged thing came up. That sex resulted in me, and now eighteen years later, with no mother, I get to endure the punishment both my parent made without my consent, might I add.” He chuckled dryly and continued

“Step-siblings hate me because they think I want to take what is rightfully theirs because I came first; stepmother hates me because I remind her so much of my mother and how unfaithful my father was. My father was busy building his empire to distract himself from his unhappy home and marriage. I was misunderstood, and so are many other kids here; I didn’t even want to own a company sounds absurd but seeing the kind of lifestyle my family lives. How fake their happiness is in public and how they make the family look perfect at the expense of whatever, I just knew I couldn’t put another generation of children through that,” he explained.

I didn’t know what to say; it must have been painful to be misunderstood and discouraging when you have no one to support you or have your back in a family full of people who seem to hate you.

But why did he tell me that?

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, he stood up, and I watched as he towered over my sleeping form; he stretched out his hand to help me up; I took it to you, and he pulled me up

“So that you know, you are not alone; whatever the reason came here doesn’t matter; having friends is important. If bunches of misunderstood kids couldn’t even help one another out, who else would help them?” he said and left.

I couldn’t help but ponder his words all through the night before finally drifting off to sleep.

If a bunch of misunderstood kids can’t help one another, who else would help them?