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The ruckus was indescribable.
If he’d been one for hyperbole he’d of made outlandish claims of glass shattering, claw marks, and displaced and vegetation.
As it was there was some kicked up sod, prof of a scuffle on both their faces and grass stains.
Isa hated grads stains. Stains were bad enough (hard to explain, harder to get out) but grass stains had overtures of salad vengeance... And that little thought, courtesy of spending too much time with Radiant’s newest exchange student Demy, decided one issue.
Next Monday he was respectfully insisting on the sensei moving his designated seat.
For the last thought was undisputable proof that close proximity could cause neuron contamination and cognitive collapse.
“I-eh-sah!”
To that promising change of addressed (not screamed) Isa flicked his gaze of the forrest strain and regarded (as best he could) his best friend’s face. He was still pale, palor stealing the flish of over-exertion and violence emoting quite nicely, said palor was the effect of enrouching reality.
To put it sucsently; “No Isa wasn’t going to put him down” and “yest, they were really gunna”
“Why’d you have to get your growth spurt first?”
“Genetics.” Because though flawed the shorter explaination was less likely to be toned out.
“I could walk, you know, to the… you know…
Isa considered the offer. Considered their friendship, and his friend, and the last incident. How Lea’d been so pale, and sodden, and gotten sick besides. If that guardsman hadn’t cone on a hike in that particular area..
If lea hadn’t screamed so loud…
Then Isa really considered his friend, and because they were friends, he asked.
“Will you run?”
“Heck. Yes!”
Isa simply got back to walking, burden slung over his shoulders.
Birds twittered, their forms dark flicks of shade against the thick entwined greenery. Sometimes there’d be a reveal of sorts, a flash of vibrant color etched in gold as evasive met sunbeam and stealth failed. Greenery, fresh and growing, still moist though dew’d long since past, was the occasional variant to the trodden dirt road. On a whole the lot was much nicer than steel and concrete.
Much softer.
“Issaaah!”
The burden over his shoulder, all light and long and sharp and angles, squirmed towards something… Arms stretched, strained, fingers hooked into claws. Isa staggered over some rocks, trading soft for prickling edge to deny yet another escape attempt.
“Treee!”
“No Lea.”
“But why?”
“If I wanted so much whining I’d get a puppy.” Isa growled. Huffing more to keep a rebellious strand of sweat slicked blue from flying up his nose.
Brightening (but not lightening, no consideration there) his load cheered. “Hey, a puppy sounds awesome; we could to that instead of this!”
“No Lea.”
“But why!”
Isa carried on
XXX
It wasn’t a real swim hole. No river fed into it, no spring. Some adventurous soul had swum to the bottom. Traced current to slit, found metal and had cut himself badly on the pipe. That ruined said daredevil’s day, and the shots and stitches had been horrid.
Since that incident the adults had made noises. Someone up high was to send some committee or other to cut the water flow, patch up the pipes and reseal (see bury) the lot. But adults, being adults, particularly the compartmentalized ones (like the committee) were really slow about doing things.
Especially as they were super busy with scandals and dealing with irate environmental groups, and there was an investigation to figure out what else might have sprung a leak.
Suffice to say, it would get handled twelve past never if anyone was lucky.
“Here we are.” Isa grinned. Job well done deserved a smile. Though Lea wasn’t a job, he did hcome with a certain chore-like aura somedays. “See it’s not that ba-“
Going from lividly struggling to limp, Isa tried and failed to accomidate Lea’s shift. The change of pressure was enough to make him stagger, to make them both fall.
“Lea!”
Isa learned that yelling didn’t wake anyone up from a faint, no matter how loud.
XX
Splashing an avid hydrophobe who had a perchance for pirate lore (well movies, specifically the cheesy type) summoned forth a high pitched squeal about “don’tthrowmeoverboardIdidn’twanna wlaktheplansavemeIsa!” that Isa tried not to really hear. His name was in that somewhere, but that didn’t make the sentence retrievable, comprehensible, or any less suspect.
“Lunch time.” Isa had already pulled he sandwiches out of his pocket post fall. They were squished and purple jelly oozed about the base of one plastic bag (Lea’s), but they’d somewhat resembled squarish bread things.
“Food,” Green eyes were fixated on him. “At water, whatabout cramps?”
“Only if you go swimming, which we aren’t because cramps hurt. S we aren’t.”
Thus assured Lea crept closer.
Isa was nice enough not to sing song the obvious facst. Nor did he indulge in snideness, or sniping (the last took effort, bruises and all that) but he couldn’t resist one indulgence. They bag’s corner might have been pinched between forefinger and thumb, and some swinging of the food might have been occurring.
If so Isa blamed physics.
As it was Lea blamed Isa and took the bad with undue force.
The results were somewhat foregone.
“Ew it’s oozing purple.”
Isa did not smirk into his sandwich, nor did he giggle. Giggling was for girls and Isa was a boy, thank you. Regardless Lea chucking the mushy crust at him was wrong.
Not that Lea ever saw things his way.
XXX
The next time there was less property damage, less screaming.
That was good.
Unfortunately all good came with a bit of bad and it was nearly Spooks Night. So of course all their reading had been geared to the macabre. Lea’s insistence in bringing chocolate, and gram crackers, and marshmallows and a silly stupid book on ghost stories was inevitable.
So they at cold, untoasted s’mores (that weren’t really, really s’mores, but try telling Lea that) at the bank and Isa kicked off his shoes under Lea’s whide green eyes and dipped his toes.
Ad here, they read. And the stories, though silly, set Lea shivering.
It couldn’t’ be anything else, because Isa was shivering too.
XXX
They made fishing poles of deadfall and though they were a bit old for it all, rouse near slumbering imaginations to full flower… Or at lease enough so that shoe string could serve as fishing lines.
“Think we’ll get something?” Lea dared, toes twiddling birthed little ripples, his lean face was almost serious as he asked.
“Maybe.” Isa was an honest boy, found little use in lying, but that evasion was pushing things.
And the thought of him being a boy… well it seemed odd. It was an odd thought. With an odd taste. And before he could contemplate the complexities…
“Is! Isa! Your line!”
It dipped and he nearly lost the lot in shock.
But Lea set his hands over Isa’s and they pulled and were pulled. Bare feet scrabbling in mud and pebbles as the water was slucked in by some secret earth giant drinking form a straw wrong ways about (bottems up). And Isa’s grip goes but Lea doesn’t let go and they’re on their backs in much and there’s voices, raised and coming near and…
“Monsters!” Lea’s panic proves catchy.
They’re pulling each other up and running, going from running to ran to gone. Screaming like loons, squealing like girls.
It’s a wonder none of the water maintenance crews of the committee don’t just follow either boy home. There’s a trail of mud and sonic damage all the way back.
XXX
Isa is grounded for weeks. Three weeks to be exact. Lea’s gone soft and sullen and surely the Sensei is in on this because the homework is viciously complicated.
Life isn’t fair.
No shoes, and scrapes and muck all through the house (all the way to the closet, where he’d hidden) it was almost three years. Almost was, until Lea called and in a shame filled voice said it was all his fault.
And Isa was silent when, via speaker phone, Lea confessed.
He said something smart (a woman’s voice, resigned: This is how it always starts) and some of the bigger boys took it wrong (Were they supposed to take it right? Really, did I raise you like this!) and they’d taken Lea to the pool in the woods and there’d been a fight, and-
“Isa came.” Was how it ended, Lea was crying by the end.
It was a charmingly awful blend of truth. Truth in the wrong place, in the wrong time, a truth that should have been-
And when had Lea learned to lie like that?
“Is this true?” Father demanded.
And because he was crying, so hard he shuddered, all Isa could do was a jerky nod. Nod and sob and shake.
It was convoluted, and concocted, a truth would knock the whole down, just one...
“Isa… I’m-“
“I’ll,” He swiped at his eyes, though choked he rose his voice, drwoing out the apology that wasn’t coming. He wouldn’t let it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, at school,”
And though wrong he treasured Lea’s hastily given gift. Though it took no place on his shelf or closet it weighted on his mind, whole punishment long, and post punishment too. When some of the nastier minded boys tried to gang up on Lea, drive him Moon knew where Isa was there. The savageness of his glare, his growls, all was manic enough to set the vicious lot to flight.
“What were you doing by the principal’s office?” Isa scolded, dragging a reluctant Lea behind him. “Get in trouble again?”
“Sorta.” Lea grinned, tucking something in his pocket that crinkled. “Maybe?”
Isea knew not to trust that grin or that glib tongue, and he gave Lea no more opportunities to exercise either. They were through the doors before Lea realized where, and then when he did.
“The libra-“ Lea started to groan.
The librarians shushed the red head, sparing Isa the effort.
And Isa wasn’t smiling, really he wabs’t.
XXX
When next semester came about he got a surprise on his schedule. General physical education had been replaced with a swimming class.
An elementary swimming class.
At his halfhearted attempt to protest Mother would hear nothing of it. She carried on about “how shameful it was that neither of you knew how”
And he missed that warning sign, but then he wasn’t even finished with breakfast so his mental lack wasn’t entirely his fault.
“Just be glad that Lea brought it to my attention, delightful boy, very charming…’
“Very dead.” Isa snarled into his spoon, hoping chewing would mask his ire.
“What was that?”
“N’thing Mother.” Isa sighed.
She patted his head, drifted about putting breakfast foods unfinished in wraps and pickin up plates almost before he was done. Normally he’d of helped.
But honestly, glooming felt so much better right now.
So he set his head on his folded arms and moped.
“I figure we could make an outing of it. Have you boys pick out your swimwear together-“
Mother clearly had wanted a girl. Because boy’s didn’t clothes shop together. Never. Ever. Ever ever ever.
The angle wasn’t right, but he tried to smack his head against the table, his arms, whatever, anything to wake up!
“-And I’m very disappointed that you never mentioned you liked Howlrazor.. you know.. that game! Because I saw these cutest sky blue trunks for it on sale last weeks and we could have…
He was going to kill Lea. Messily. Then, he stopped. All plots of murder fell to the wayside and he smiled. It was an awful smile, birthed by an awful idea.
A truly, evil, awful idea.
“Did you know he’s a Brony, Mom? I think he likes Pink pie.. whats-her-name?”
“Really, that’s sweet, do you think he’d like those pink and red trunks with… Pinkypie on it?”
“Oh yes, definitely.” Isa smirked. “Absolutely.”