Chapter 2 Pocket the Change: Part 1

 

I sat on my bedroom floor, sorting through various piles of junk. 

 

It had been a few weeks since the funeral, and aunt Bethany had asked if I wanted to go live with her. I took some time to think about it, but in the end I said yes. She seemed relieved since there weren't that many options for me to choose from. I could go with my almost disabled great aunt-and uncle, or I could go to an institution. All in all aunt Bethany's offer was the most appealing.

 

I sighed as I reviewed what I was getting rid of and what I was keeping. I can't believe how much junk I actually have. I always thought that I didn't keep useless things, I don't like cleaning up so I try not to make messes, but I guess that belief has been shattered. I groaned in frustration when I realized I'd have to go through the whole house like this, well not alone, aunt Bethany would help, but still! This is a pretty big house! I don't wanna!

 

I rolled around the floor for a bit, wallowing in self-pity. I never liked cleaning. Yet here I am, getting ready to move away, and cleaning as if the world will end if I don't! Haha. I feel the mirthless laughter leave my throat mockingly. Just then my phone buzzed. It was a text from Mareah, the crazy weirdo. He hadn't texted me all this time, despite his whining about not getting my number before. I guess it was his way of being tactful, because if he had texted I can't say I would have answered. I unlocked my phone wondering what he said, and deliberating if I should reply.

 

Crazy-Weirdo: Hey Bysshe can you come with me somewhere?

 

Me: Where?

 

Crazy-Weirdo: I kinda don't want to be alone right now.

 

Me: I asked where, idiot.

 

Crazy-Weirdo: the corner of Stanley and Wellbrook.

 

Me: ok

 

I switched off my phone and grabbed a jacket and my converse. As I walked down the stairs I noticed aunt Bethany cleaning the entertainment room.

 

"Hey aunt Bethany, I'm gonna go for a drive." She turned to me and just nodded. I went to the door and left.

 

As I walked down the driveway I saw my parent's minivan parked in the driveway. We had already sold Dad's car. But we still needed the minivan because it had bigger storage capacity. It kinda bothered me though. I know I won't be able to forget everything, even if I wanted to, but seeing it makes me depressed.

 

I got on my motorcycle and legged it to Mareah's location. He just had to pick some random corner to meet at. When I reached, I didn't see Mareah anywhere in sight. I got out my phone and texted him.

 

Me: Where are you?

 

Me: Hey Mareah? 

 

Me: I'm right here, WHERE YOU WANTED TO MEET!

 

After a few minutes of impatient waiting I noticed a scuffle going on not too far away. It looked like a bunch of teenagers ganging up on someone. Knowing all too well how it felt to be alone in such a situation I walked over. I left my helmet on, though, so as to seem more intimidating, and if they didn't recognize my face all the better. If they don't know their attacker, they can't take revenge.

 

"Hey! What are you doing?" Being tall is a perk in these situations, too bad I'm only average. Nonetheless I straightened my back, trying to seem larger than normal.

 

They turned to me, startled, but not really intimidated. "Hey punk, you want some? If not I suggest you back off!" The leader like guy who this at me seemed more the punk type, though. Whatever, if I'm not intimidating I'll just have to get someone who is. The punk turned around as if to ignore me, thinking I was a wimp.

 

I got out my phone and dialed 911. When they picked up I spoke loudly on purpose, so the gang of punks could hear. "Hello? Is this the police? Yes I would like to report an incident..."

 

"Wait dude! this guy is serious, we better get out of here!" one of them yelled to the others, before they all hightailed it in a panic. Total wimps. Hanging up the phone I looked over to the person lying on the ground. They seemed somewhat familiar, and it took about 2 minutes to recognize him to be Mareah.

 

"Are you okay?" He answered me with a groan. I checked his body, looking for open wounds and broken bones. 

 

"Th-thanks for s-saving me." He said between groans, he was breathing heavily and obviously in pain. Despite that, he only had a few abrasions and no broken bones.

 

"Looks like you're just gonna be badly bruised, thank goodness there's nothing worse." I announced matter-of-factly. I helped Mareah up and brought him to the corner we were supposed to meet at, and where I left my bike. I took my helmet off and heard a loud gasp.

 

"Ah! it's you Bysshe! I didn't recognize you." I looked at him confused just as he glomped me. He let go, in pain because he hugged me too violently and aggravated his injuries. I peeled him off the rest of the way and put my helmet on his head.

 

"Come on," I said getting on my bike "I'll take you to the hospital." He hesitated, so I forced him to sit down and began driving. I hope I don't get pulled over for not wearing a helmet.

 

When we arrived at the hospital I rushed him in and had the doctors take a look. Only bruising, was their diagnosis. I already knew that. Doctors are useless. Tell me something I don't know. After a while of check ups and such, I took Mareah's phone and texted his parents without his knowledge.

 

Me(Mareah's phone): This is Mareah's friend, I just brought him to the hospital.

 

Dad: Wich one?! Whta happened?!

 

Me: St Bernard. Some people beat him up.

 

His dad was so flustered and worried he misspelled several things.I put Mareah's phone back into his pocket, he was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. He noticed my less-than-stealthy actions and asked:

 

"What did you do?"

 

"I texted your parents." I shrugged. I knew he wouldn't tell them, he was too afraid it wouldn't do any good.

 

"What?! Why did you do that?!" He looked as if the world ended.

 

"Relax, you would have to face them and be honest, sooner or later, anyway." I gave him a hard stare, insuring he understood I wouldn't back down just because he was taller. He gulped apprehensively. He was athletic, tall, hell his face looked intimidating, if not for the stupid expressions he let overtake his face. He was weak mentally, and even if he was stronger physically, I could always beat him in intensity.

 

So I sat and waited till his parents came. He would've run away if I didn't. I deserve coffee, keeping him in check is hard.