To Write LOVE On Their Arms

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I pressed my lips together and stepped in front of him again, placing a hand on his chest to stop him and going on my toes to get in his face. "There you go again," I said softly. I may not have been able to see him, but I could read body language all the same. "Why are you like this, so defensive and violent? What made you this way?" My face was inches from his, my eyes narrowed. Yes, he was extremely handsome, but he was acting like a dick.
After another second, I backed away and opened my dorm room, which happened to be only a few feet away, and shut the door.

I sank down onto my bed, and felt tears spring unexpectedly into my eyes. I dabbed them away impatiently and glanced at my guitar case, then gave up and took it out. I strummed a few chords, then started picking a slow, mournful tune. My guitar was another form of escape for me, the small pains in my fingers when I pressed too hard-I had huge calluses on my fingers from that-, the way the guitar's body vibrated against me. A guitar couldn't glare at me, couldn't judge me, couldn't trick me. It didn't have eyes in which to see its past.

It was only a guitar.
 
Allistair didn't answer her, only stared levelly at her as she spoke to him. He knew that if he did that, she would leave, eventually. He had done that numerous times before, and it was a tried and true method to avoid interacting with others. Besides, why would he tell her that? He barely knew her! They had only met that morning, and he didn't need another person who knew enough about him to start spreading rumors and lies. He got enough o that by people he had once trusted enough to tell more than his name and age.

When she finally backed away, Allistair watched her go to her dorm before leaving for his own, not in the mood for anything more to happen that day.

Once in his own room, he changed quickly before spending a few minutes studying for a test he had. Six months, two weeks, and now two days before Allistair could leave. Six months, two weeks, and two days to make sure that he didn't leave behind anyone who would miss him. Not in this city.
 
((Man, our characters are so screwed up. xD))

I was alone in a field, my head tilted back to stare at the sky. I felt an unmeasurable amount of sorrow, and tears ran down my face. "It'll be okay, Nova," Josh whispered, suddenly appearing and tilting my head down to look at him. "I love you." I didn't want to let him go, didn't want to be left behind. His eyes told me he knew that. "Promise me something," He said, and I nodded. "Don't follow me," he murmured, and kissed me softly. For a moment I was confused, but I realized he meant to where he was trying to go, mentally. I heard the gunshot that broke my heart, and saw him for the last time.

I jolted awake, cold perspiration covering my body, and saline tears drying on my cheeks. My heart twisted, and I let out a soft cry, a mewling of pain and newly awakened grief. It was three in the morning, but I showered as if I had his blood all over me, scrubbing until my skin was red from the water and my insistence. I threw on some eyeliner and sweats, and set out with my guitar to play quietly in the commons area.

The song I chose to play was My Guardian Angel.
 
Allistair slept through the night, for once. He wasn't plagued by memories, he didn't lie awake thinking of the girl he had once loved, but now wasn't sure about, and he wasn't counting down the seconds until he would be able to leave the school forever.

When his alarm went off extremely early in the morning, he turned it off before sitting up, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands and groaning tiredly. He sat there in his boxers and an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt for several long minutes, rubbing his bad knee and yawning occasionally as he tried to wake himself up. Wishing that they allowed coffee in the school, he stood up, stretching.

Pulling on a pair of old jeans and a hoodie from the floor, he brushed a few of the tangles out of his hair with his fingers, squinting against the bright light in his room. When he was dressed, he walked out of his room, shutting the door quietly behind him. It was three in the morning. Technically, he wasn't supposed to be leaving his room; no one was, but people did anyways, including Allistair, who had gotten caught for it more than once. He knew that most of the time no one was watching the cameras that lined the hallways and public rooms, and he also knew that he had a load of luck on his hands, and that pushing it didn't really do anything.

As he was walking along one of the upstairs hallways that circled and overlooked the commons area, he saw Nova playing her guitar through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Sighing softly, he leaned against the far wall, simply watching her. Though he couldn't see her from this distance, he could still imagine how she had been singing earlier, the sound of her voice and the resonance of her guitar. Shaking his head at the thought of it, he ran a hand through his hair, keeping an eye out for any of the SROs that walked the hallways after it got dark.
 
I had the feeling someone was watching me, but I didn't look up. My emotions drained away as I played, allowing me to compose myself. I was probably not allowed to be out here in this time of morning. I didn't care, and, anyway, I was too tired to walk back to my room, and I didn't want to sleep again. I shivered inwardly at the memory of the dream, and my eyes prickled for a moment, a hot, stinging pain.

I wished I wasn't plagued by my memories, that I was someone else, that I didn't have them. I was just another unwanted girl at home, and I felt I was the same here. It didn't matter how I looked, how I acted; no one wants a girl who can know everything about them with just a glance. People believe that they're layered, that their lives are complicated and nobody would understand. I thought it to be ironic. I wasn't complicated, but nobody would understand me, either.

Allistair was someone different, something different than everybody else. What other explanation was there, the reason that I couldn't see him like I saw everyone else in the world? It was confusing, and I slipped into 'Jumper' by Third Eye Blind, and began to sing, very quietly.

"I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend...
You could cut ties from all the lies that you've been living in..."
 
Sighing softly as he heard her change songs, Allistair sank to the floor, frowning. Wringing his hands, he closed his eyes, simply listening to the music. Pulling his hood up, he forced himself back to his feet, knowing that he might fall asleep if he stayed there any longer. Stretching again, he tapped the glass.

Raising a hand after she noticed him, he waved to Nova before shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn't smile; it wasn't in his nature to, especially not with someone he met that morning. However, a few shadows appeared at the corners of his lips, making it look like he was smiling slightly.

It wasn't that he disliked her, he just didn't want any friends. Friends meant attachments, and attachments meant sad and teary goodbyes later on, when Allistair left to wherever his road would take him. But at least she didn't throw herself at him, or talk endlessly about dying, or be one of the ones who never stopped asking about how his life was before he was sent here. That was a plus.
 
I raised my eyes as Allistair walked through, who gave me a hint of a smile and a wave. I waved in return, but didn't follow him- I could tell he'd rather be alone, and I was kind of tired, anyway. I could tell he was the kind of person that didn't want to make friends, and I could definitely relate to that.

I betted that the teachers would patrol around here, so I left and headed back to my room. I wasn't going to sleep, of course not- I had better things to do. I took my lighter out of my drawer, and a joint from the few I'd pick pocketed from the blond juvenile boy. I opened my window and lit up, inhaling and releasing, thinking.

No one noticed when I was high- I'd done it so often I was used to its effects, and I hid the physical effects well with eye drops and some other things. I ran my finger along the window, feeling its smoothness almost idly, then stubbing out my joint and tossing it in the trash, turning on the air humidifier to get rid of the smell.
 
Allistair wandered around for as long as he deemed safe, not wanting to get another infraction in the same twenty-four hours. Eventually, he returned to his room, sitting by his window. His didn't open anymore. After a couple misplaced comments made by his social worker upon arrival, he had been assigned a room that didn't allow its window to open, in case he tried to jump. He felt he didn't need it anymore, but they still made him attend a group session every week and kept him out of the classes where you could use a knife, like biology.

Sighing, he set his alarm, knowing that he would be expected for the group session in the morning. Classes didn't start for a few more days, but group sessions were year round. It was mostly a bunch of bullshit that everyone lied in, even Allistair. He hadn't ever said anything that was true in that class, not wanting anyone to think he wasn't like them. He wasn't; he had never broken the law (any big ones), he hadn't had a bad drug addiction, he was just a victim. And though he wouldn't admit it openly, being in this school for the last three years had been the best thing that had happened to him. His life had gotten so much better since then, and he only had a few more months before he could leave forever and start his life again.

Layng back down onto his bed, it took only a few minutes for him to fall asleep. It seemed like only five minutes had passed when his alarm woke him, and he started the waking cycle again.
 
I noticed lights turning on a few hours later as I sat on the window seat, my legs dangling out the window as I listened to my Ipod, The Classic Crime blasting into my ears. I'd convinced the school to let me have a window that opened, telling them I didn't like pain, and allowed the school nurse to check me for any self-harm scars- she didn't find any, because there wasn't.

I dressed in actual day-to-day clothing, jeans and a simple top. I twisted the simple metalwork ring on my pinkie, inlaid by a small sapphire, and adjusted the metalwork bird that laid against my collarbone. They had been made by the same person- Josh.

I had to go to group today, I recalled. I would have to speak, as a new student, and I was opposed to that. I'll just lie, I thought to myself as I headed to breakfast. I doubt anyone tells the truth, anyway.
 
When he woke up, Allistair pulled on some black jeans and a t-shirt before running his fingers through his hair to brush it out. Rubbing the spot just above his left eyebrow, getting a headache right there, he wished that the school would give him pain medication for his knee and the headaches that he would get, but that was also on the list of no-gos for those on suicide watch. Allistair wasn't suicidal. He had never ever thought about it before, but that one comment about 'mental health' and 'possibility of actions associated with...' and Allistair was considered to be one of the students who would do anything to die.

Sighing, and figuring that there was nothing for it, he left his room, deciding he would push his luck and skip breakfast for the library. He took his time in the library, almost being late for the group session.

Walking into the room, he tried to ignore the looks given by the students and the group session leader, which happened to be his calculous teacher this week. Sliding into a chair in the back, he still ended up in front of Lola, a girl who seemed to want nothing more than to get in his pants. Hearing her scoot closer to him, he sighed, not ready for another two hours of this.
 
I walked into group five minutes late, earning myself a glare from the supervisor seated so he was faced towards the doorway in the stereotypical circle of chairs. I noticed Allistair looking uncomfortable, and one glare from the girl sitting too close to him told me why. I shuddered and decided to save him, sitting in the chair next to him.

"Hey," I said, with a smirk. I lowered my voice a little. "Nice girlfriend." I was joking, of course. I would be freaked out by that girl -Lola- too.
 
Allistair sent Nova a slightly pleading look as he felt Lola's hand sneaking its way along his pantleg, creeping upwards. He would never hit a girl, and to lash out at her would probably be seen as a cry for help or a sign of impending suicide. Sighing softly, he did his best to ignore Lola's advances as his Calculous teacher began the session in the overly cheery way all the session leaders would. Running his hand through his hair, he sat up, wanting to at least pretend to look like he was paying attention.
 
I wrinkled my nose at Allistair and raised an eyebrow at Lola, who was attempting to feel him up. I pulled a sharpened pencil from my pocket and stabbed at her hand with it, causing Lola to draw away quickly and hiss in pain. I shook my head at her and mouthed, after, as I saw her hand curl into a fist. Lola frowned and looked towards the session leader, who was addressing the group.

"Welcome to group, everyone!" he said in a disgustingly cheery voice. "I believe we have a new student here today. Nova, could you please stand up and introduce yourself?" Ha! I wasn't standing, so I raised an eyebrow and said, "No, thanks. I'd rather sit." I watched him turn slightly red, but he let it go.
 
Chuckling softly as Lola's hand was stabbed at by Nova, Allistair was grateful to her. Her hand had gotten dangerously close to the zipper of his pants, and he did not want anything to do with that, especially not at a group session. A couple times, she had even gotten so far as to straddle his lap and attempt to kiss him, but the session leaders would always get her off of him and to the other side of the room. However, none of them seemed to realize that there was a recurring problem with Lola and Allistair, so no further action was done. Besides that, Allistair knew that if he did anything against her, she would claim he had hit her, or worse, and he didn't want to have a record like that before he had even gotten out of high school.

As the session began, Allistair only paid attention half the time, not at all interested in the clever lies that everyone seemed to come up with. Silently listening while someone talked about a heroin addiction they were breaking, he felt Lola's hand on his leg again, and he sighed. "Can you please stop?" he asked her softly, not wanting to make a scene.
 
"So, Nova," he continued, his fake smile back in place. "As you know, this is a school to help people, but we need your cooperation to help you. And one of these ways is to talk about what happened to get you enrolled here. Would you care to share." I froze, my eyes narrowing at him as memories flashed behind my eyes. "Fuck no," I blurted, and watched him turn red again. "Nova Olsson," he began, and I looked to Allistair pleadingly, shooting a death glare at Lola, who once again retreated from his leg at the promise of pain by pencil in my eyes.
 
"Leave her alone," Allistair told the session leader, immediately getting to his feet as Lola's hand left his leg. "It's obvious that she doesn't want to talk about whatever shit made her come here, so can you just drop it?" His sentence ended in a shout, and it was plain to see that his teacher was considering calling for an SRO or something.

"Fuck this shit," Allistair added as a grumble before facing Nova. "Let's get out of here, yeah?" Without waiting for a response, he strode out of the room, heart pounding in his chest despite the fact that he was telling himself that he had done the right thing.
 
I followed after him, shocked and grateful at the same time. The supervisor was sputtering, but not saying anything coherent, so I doubted Allistair had ever done this before, helping out another student like this. "Thanks," I said when I caught up to him, his stride taking two of mine. I looked up at him curiously, my head tilted to the side. Maybe he only helped me because I helped him, but I still wondered.

"Why did you help me, back thee?" I asked him. My neck heated up as he looked at me, but I held his gaze and waited for his response.
 
"Fuckin' asshole annoys the hell outta me," Allistair replied, his annoyance and anger making him forget his proper English. "Just sorta blew up..." Frowning, he made his way towards one of the back hallways that didn't have many classrooms in it. The hallway was mostly used for storage and the like, and hardly anybody was down there when classes weren't in session. There also was a stairway with roof access, and since the hallway had only a few people there at any given moment, it was left unlocked. Not many people knew about it, but the only camera on the roof had been spray painted over by some clever soul.

Finding the door, he opened it, blowing his hair out of his face with a breath as he held it open for Nova. Once she was through, he followed, taking the stairs two at a time. Once he was at the door leading to the roof, he held that open for her too. There wasn't much atop the roof, only a few empty beer cans and cigarette containers. Next to the railing at the edge of the roof, Allistair was glad to see that his little locked box of things was still there. Picking up the silver and black box, which was small enough to fit in his pants pockets, he took out a key and slid it into the lock. Opening the box, he retrieved his lighter and cigarette. "Want one?" he asked Nova as he set the box at his feet. "I've only got a few left, but I suppose the situation calls for it. Straightening, he leaned against the rail, hsi expression still one of anger.
 
I listened to his voice change, take on a less protected, rougher edge and improper English became prominent in his speech. The hallway we walked down was empty, devoid of any human presence as there were no classes, and it seemed to be that this floor was mostly storage, anyway. Allistair opened a door for me, and I went in ahead to go up a staircase. He held the next door open for me, and this time I smiled, just because it was so unusual for someone to be so kind to me.

Atop the roof, it was warm with the sunlight shining down, and a soft breeze that ruffled my hair a little. Allistair picked up a small silver and black box, unlocking it with a key he'd retrieved from his pocket. He pulled out a lighter and some cigarettes. "Want one?" he asked me as he placed the box at his feet. "I've only got a few left, but I suppose the situation calls for it." He straightened and leaned against the rail. His expression was one of anger. "I don't smoke," I said, my stomach twisting as a ridiculous idea formed in my head. "But I know what else the situation calls for." I hated myself for doing this. This was wrong. Very wrong. But I did it anyway.

I leaned in and gently kissed his tightened lips, then pulled away quickly, looking out over the horizon. "I'm just another girl." I murmured. "Broken, but nothing extraordinary. My life is an unfinished puzzle so frustrating, I've tried to throw it away so many times. I made a promise and I broke it..."

"Promise me something," Josh whispered, cradling my face with his hands. We were both crying, silently. "Anything," I replied, my voice breaking. "Don't follow me," he said, and kissed my forehead, and I knew what he meant...
 
Allistair had been struggling with his lighter when Nova kissed him. As soon as she did, he dropped it, his muscles all seeming to fail at the same time. Almost immediately, his already dark eyes seemed to get darker. The last girl to kiss him like that had been Evie. Every other girl here had forced one upon him, not taking no for an answer. But Nova seemed almost shy about it.

Her lips are soft, was his first thought. His second was, No, I can't...Evie... But he hadn't spoken to Evie in years and it was unlikely that she still felt anything for him. With her looks, she could have any guy she wanted, and she probably had gone through at least five other guys since he had seen her. Maybe it would be okay to move on, to find someone else. But he couldn't afford to, not with graduation so close. As soon as he received his diploma, he was planning on leaving without a trace, and if he was with someone, that would mean leaving them as well.

As indecision swirled in his dark eyes, he shoved his hands in his pockets, forgetting about smoking. Sinking down against the rail, he looked up to Nova, listening to her speak. When she finished, gazing out over the railing, he sighed softly. He didn't know how he felt about the kiss she had given him, but his expression was no longer as angry as it had been. He looked almost happy, and it had been a long time since he had felt that tightness in his chest that usually only Evie could give him.

"Why?" he asked her, his eyebrows furrowing together. "Why did you kiss me?" His tone wasn't accusatory, just questioning, and it was clear he was just curious as to why she would be compelled to do something like that.
 
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