╔══《"Haven't cried in a while,》══╗
maybe now's a good time."

       Finn was staring. He didn't mean to, but yet he was. It was only first period. He was still dazed from rushing out of school, sleep lingering in his vision and anchoring down his soul like dead weight. Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to put his down and succumb to sleep.

       On the average day, he would oblige without hesitation. Today however, he wavered. It's because I got yelled at yesterday for sleeping. He assured himself. That was so embarrassing, why did he have to pick on me, ugh!

       Finn usually wouldn't care about getting called out for sleeping. Most students were also too busy dozing to notice the interaction. But still, he didn't allow himself to lay down against his desk. Every couple of seconds, his head would lull forward and he would snap it upright abruptly.

       The sunlight was shining in through the windows on his left, causing his eyes to squint. The bright light smoothed the rough edges of the room.

       With his eyes half closed, eyelids struggling to see past the blinding sun, Finn couldn't look away. He didn't mean to, but he couldn't stop. How could he when the glint of orange reflected off his classmates face in a way that looked ethereal. Finn usually didn't pay much attention to Corbin--or the people around him for that matter.

       But after the conversation with his dad the previous night, he couldn't help feeling curious. Unconsciously, his gaze dropped to Corbin's hands. His right palm was resting on his desk, leaving the top of his hand in perfect view for Finn.

       The troubled boy frowned, immediately noticing the bumps on each knuckle. The scars are thick. He confirmed, remembering his dads description. They definitely look like burn scars. He observed, furrowing his brows in curiosity.

       Corbin was staring straight, but his eyes were glazed over in a way that Finn only assumed meant he was zoned out. His hood was up, like always. His hair poked out. His locs are long. Finn noted to himself, knowing it takes a while for the twisted matts to get to that length.

       The cotton was dark green, a different color than yesterday. Finn sighed, turning his head back to his own desk. Don't be a creepy stalker. He exhaled. The work sheet on his desk was blank. Frustrated, he shook his head, struggling to read the letters as they wiggled and warped around his page.

       The chemical formulas swam around, the letters unreadable to Finn's eyes. It had always been like this for Finn, struggling to understand even basic equations. His teacher's mindless droning didn't help either. Maybe if I had a more interesting teacher who actually engaged their students I wouldn't be as confused. He huffed in exasperation.

       School never came easy to him. Unlike his brothers, who both graduated near the top of their classes, Finn struggled to get B's. He wasn't in honors or college level classes, but he still had trouble acing tests. Reading never came easy to him, math was too complicated, and history had too many facts and dates to remember.

       Typically, he enjoyed science--not including chemistry--he supposed. He liked biology, specifically interested in ecology. Sadly, he had been forced to take chemistry as a required class.

       The equations written on his papers didn't make sense to him, even as he squinted in an attempt to make the letters more clear. In the front of the classroom, the teacher had scribbled work on the chalkboard. The blurry letters were illegible, only fueling Finn's rage.

       His lips quivered, his fists clenching. He wanted to scream, but he had enough social awareness to repress the urge. Instead, he puffed his chest and finally put his head down. He rested his right ear against his folded arms, looking over at the intriguing teenager next to him once more.

       This time, Corbin's eyes were closed while his body remained upright. Guess he was pretty tired. He smiled. With Corbin's eyes closed, Finn felt less creepy staring. 

       His mouth was open ever so slightly, his eyebrows were relaxed. His eyelashes were long, and his visible teeth were white. His skin was clear, no acne or pimples tainting the smooth skin. In this lighting, with his hoodie casting a shadow on his face, the patches of white were barely visible.

       For just a moment, Finn had forgotten they were there in the first place. But all of a sudden, Corbin adjusted his body, hunching over his desk to rest more comfortably. And at that moment, the hood slipped down. The sunshine danced off his forehead, revealing the large speckle of paleness.

       It looks like a continent. Finn giggled, noting the unusual shape of the blotch. The same discoloration was mottled around the right side of his lips. Finn stared in captivation. Wait what?

       Sitting up abruptly, he tore his eyes away from Corbin's face. Suddenly, the teacher writing on the board became the most interesting thing to Finn. His gaze never left the front of the room. His breathing was elevated, his nerves spiking. He was scared, scared that if he dared to look over he would see Corbin giving him a disgusted look.

       He didn't have to stare any longer luckily, the bell announcing his freedom. He jumped up, startling his classmates who were slowly packing up their backpacks. He shoved his folders in his open bag, and raced for the door across the room.

       Before leaving, he took one glance back. Corbin was just waking up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his left hand. He slowly stood up, stretching his cramping limbs. Finn's eyes lingered, noticing how the bottom of his sweatshirt rode up when he stretched his arms above his head. Immediately growing embarrassed, Finn ran out of the door and into the crowding hallway.

       His face had begun to heat up. You can add pervert to your list of traits, along with stalker! He mentally screamed, bolting to the nearest bathroom. Getting to second period on time seemed like the least of his worries, the bathroom finally coming into view.

       By now, the hallway had been mostly cleared, the bathroom being nearly empty, as Finn threw his bag on the floor before rushing to the nearest sink. Turning the water on, he splashed it on himself. The cold liquid cooled his hot face, the redness still lingering.

       His hair, which hadn't been brushed to begin with, had grown more messy. The bird's nest of waves was tangled, causing him to cringe at the sight. I'll have to remember to brush it when I get home. He breathed.

       Unstable, his legs quivered as he gripped the sink to avoid collapsing. He recalled his last sight of Corbin. When his sweatshirt rode up, the waist of his jeans became briefly exposed. Additionally, the waist of his underwear was revealed too. This alone made Finn's stomach churn with nausea.

       I have to get to class! He flinched, dashing to pick up his bag and leave the bathroom. He speed walked down the deserted hallway, checking the time on his phone. I have one minute to get to class. He urged. 

       The math door approached, and he ran in as the bell rang over the loudspeaker. "Finn," Mr. Roy spoke sternly.

       "I'm not late Mr. Roy!" Finn cheered, walking over to his assigned seat. He beamed, sitting down with an upright posture. Math wasn't his best class, but the teacher was one of his favorites.

       "I suppose you weren't," Mr. Roy sighed, erasing the 'absent' mark on his attendance sheet. "So class, today we're going to..." Finn blinked rapidly, struggling to follow the lesson, his notebook being as empty as his mind.

       Weighing down, his eyes grew heavy, too burdensome to resist. Eventually, they shut for a final time, and all he saw was darkness...

...

       Finn sat on the floor in the handicap bathroom stall, which was more spacious than the normal ones. His bag was next to him, and a hoodie rested below his body. He knew well enough that sitting on the floor of the boys bathroom was the equivalent of kneeling in sewage water, the thought alone making him want to puke.

       To be prepared, Finn always had a spare hoodie shoved into his bag to act as protection from the grimy floor. Like a condom for my butt, and the dirt on the floor are STD's. He laughed. It was supposed to be lunch, but Finn never sat in the cafeteria.

       He didn't have many friends to begin with, but even the ones he had weren't in his lunch period. So, he found himself in the same spot every day. The floor was uncomfortable, but at least there was nobody here to laugh at him eating alone.

       Not that he was actually eating anything. His parents didn't pack him a lunch every day, expecting him to buy lunch at school instead. Finn didn't have the heart to tell him he didn't. His account balance had run out some time last year, and he had been too scared to ask them to refill it.

       He didn't mind though, lunch was never a meal he prioritized. In an attempt to be productive, he had his math homework sprawled out in front of him. A calculator was in his hand, a cubic graph displayed on the screen. 

       He stared at the numbers, utterly confused. The equations on his homework paper looked meaningless. Giving up, he shoved them in his bag out of frustration. Suddenly, voices approached.

       The squeaking of footsteps got louder and louder until they suddenly stopped. Laughter carried through the bathroom, and Finn knew who they were without needing to peek through the gap in the stall. The popular guys spoke in a distinct way, their speech mannerism and entitlement was something unique to them.

       Upon hearing the first laugh, Finn shut his mouth. His hand covered his lips, preventing even loud breaths from escaping. A characteristic of popular kids at Finn's school: Assholes. Even now, Finn listened to their rash conversation.

       "Dude, you know Rebecca?" one said.

       "Yeah dude, you went home with her after the party, right?" another asked.

       "Oh yeah! How was it? She's super hot, dude," a third whistled.

      "Nah that's the thing. We almost didn't even fuck. She got too pussy and started crying." he complained.

       "Dude, what the fuck."

       "So what, you just stopped?"

       "Well of course not," the original smirked. "I suggested we take shots, get a bit more wasted."

       "My man! Get her drunk and she'll always say yes!"

       "Yess, let me tell you! Her body is so hot. I mean, her tits dude."

       "Damn, nice catch."

       "At one point, she even fell asleep. But it's not like she told me to stop!"

       The voices grew quieter and quieter, the trailing footsteps indicating their leave. Finn remained quiet until the moment the voices were no longer audible, hurriedly hunching over the toilet next to him, and throwing up.

       Even after vomiting up the little food in his stomach, the last meal he ate being his small portion of dinner, Finn continued to gag. He heaved, his throat burning. Each time he sucked in a breath, the boy's filthy words would pop up in his mind, and he would gag again.

       Out of breath, he panted in vexation. He was now sweating, the material of his hoodie sticking to his body like a second layer of skin. 

       The crude comments floated around his head, unable to give him peace. The sound of knocking startled Finn. Jolting upright, he snapped his head to the locked stall door. "Anyone in there?" a voice called. Finn recognized it as Mr. Garrison, his history teacher.

       Scrambling to get up, Finn flushed the toilet before yelling, "Yeah, I'm good," in reply.

      "Alright..." Mr. Garrison responded hesitantly, uncertain in Finn's response. "Just make sure you hurry out," he concluded followed by the clacking sound of his fancy dress shoes exiting the tiled bathroom. 

       Finn breathed out, slouching back on the ground. Getting caught eating alone is one thing, but getting caught puking is another.

       Knowing he had a study hall the next period, Finn relaxed. I can sleep next period! He cheered to himself. He had gym the previous day, the exhaustion from no lunch causing the class to be extra draining.

       He had his best friend in that class, however, so he supposed it wasn't all that bad. Estelle was bubbly and energetic. She was one of the only people close to Finn. And while she didn't consider Finn her best friend, being decently popular herself, she filled that role for him.

       The bell rang suddenly, indicating the end of lunch. Finn quickly packed up his belongings, rushing out of the stall before waves of people flooded in. Immediately, he was swarmed in the hallway, his short demeanor causing him to get lost in the rapid current of the crowd.

       Locking his gaze to the floor, he slowly shoved his way through the herd. Eventually, he stood panting outside his study hall classroom. This was a calm class. The overhead lights were never on, the teacher opting for lamps and fairy lights instead.

       It was the perfect 'nap' classroom, as Finn called it. He could relax in silence, the only sounds being the scratching of pencils on paper, and the clicking of keyboard keys. Without wasting a second, Finn criss-crossed his arms and laid his head down on top of them.

       His eyelids fluttered shut, his dense eyelashes brushing against his checks. His muscles relaxed, and he slipped into slumber. But even in his slumber, Finn did not rest.

       Finn had always been a dreamer. He dreamed almost every night, although he only ever remembered fragments of his fantasies. He wasn't surprised that when he closed his eyes, he found himself in another illusion.

       However, what surprised him was the dream itself. Usually, they were so surreal. The pictures portrayed were so random that they didn't make any logical sense. Today however, he wasn't alone in the usual dreamscape.

       He was next to a little kid, hunched over crying. In front of the child, stood a woman. She looked mad, anger evident on her scrunched up face. The boy was crying, sobbing into his small arms. His hands were raised above his head, facing the women.

       She was gripping them tightly with one hand. In the other, she held a lit candle stick. It was long and white. The dripping wax indicated it had been lit for a while. Without any hesitation, the lady pointed the flame at the child's hand. 

       He screamed in terror. Finn rushed forward, to push her away, to grab the boy, to grab the candle, to do anything. He was frantic, but when he reached for the kid's hands, Finn jerked awake.

       He glanced around, but everyone was zoned into their own activities. The teacher typed away at her seat, and the classmates around him hadn't bothered to look up. Before Finn could think back on what had happened, the dream had already slipped away from his mind.

       Dazed and confused, he racked his brain for answers. Nightmares weren't uncommon for him, but they hadn't ever featured this fantasy. Gripping his hair, which was damp around his sweaty forehead, Finn sighed to himself.

       Dreams never affected him like this. Most days, he could easily move past his fantasies, even most nightmares. Still, something nagged him about this one in particular. He couldn't explain it, but it felt familiar. Like he'd seen those hands before...

...

FIRST FULL FIN POV!!

Question of the chapter: do you prefer to pack or buy school lunch?

╚══《Word count- 2,626》══╝

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