[Dalton; Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier]

word count: 1716
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He was a boy with tear tracks and a broken home.

Maybe I shouldn't have expected the newest phenomenon to be gracing the halls when I'd entered my high school that morning. In hindsight, it wasn't abnormal for the Jones' boy to miss his first day considering he'd just moved there. I should've given it time but hearing about it all day long surely didn't stop my weariness.

Everyone was talking about him and still, none of us had ever seen him but despite this, I kept my day just like any other. Go to school, embarrass myself in front of Wyatt Stevens -hottest loner in the history of Jamison High- and if I still had enough dignity and wasn't eaten alive by my self-doubt, I'd trudge through the day unnoticed and keeping a low profile. Despite my brothers, I wasn't known well and I appreciated that fact. I didn't want to stand out.

So you'd understand my animosity when it came to knocking on the Jones' door after school. There were holes in the knees of my jeans and a plain gray t-shirt on my torso, Chucks on my feet, and curly hair was in my eyes. I'd been growing it out, cutting it becoming too much of a hassle and in reality, I thought I looked nice. Still, I'd have been more-than-happy to not have made a sound or even became a blip on the radar of this specimen of boy.

I clicked the mid-evil-themed knocker on the door once more, hoping that no one had heard. I didn't want to be seen, didn't want this boy to even bat an eyelash so you can imagine the dread I felt when the door swung open, nearly knocking the plate of cookies from my hand.

"You're the Jones' boy?" Was the first thing to slip from my mouth and I regretted it instantly, eyes going wide as the only thing I could take in were his scars. Well, his scars and the slight brush of freckles across his nose and underneath his ocean-blue eyes. I found myself drinking in everything about him, he was cute... cuter than Wyatt Stevens and that said a lot.

The Jones' boy nodded briefly, pulling me back into reality and I watched as he waited for me to elaborate. I barely managed to get through the introduction without stuttering, "I'm Gabriel, people call me Gabe."

He nodded and I found myself contemplating on whether or not we'd get past this awkward exchange of 'hello, hi' that was before he opened his mouth. Eyeing something behind me, I almost turned around but his voice poured out, shocking me into silence. He had just the right amount of gravel that truly had me groveling and in a second, I was captivated. "Dalton."

I was trying not to stare, my hand becoming a bit numb underneath the cookie plate, "Well, uh, hey Dalton." I was never a champion at small talk, with it, the only things I'd be able to talk about -if given chance- would be the crescent shaped scar across his left cheek, sort of resembling a moon in its early stages.

I'd only be able to ask him if he were okay.

"Hello, Gabriel." Ga-brielle: The way he said my name. He'd insisted on stretching out the a, making it sound more feminine than needed.

He had an accent and I wasn't sure where from but it sounded awfully twangy and painful. It was as if he had pronounced all his letters instead of letting it flow and I wasn't sure what to interpret of it. The more I listened, the more I needed to hear and I bit the inside of my cheek, attempting to pull more information just so I could piece together his accent and maybe his story.

"Where're you from?" I couldn't help but ask, trying to make small talk to avoid the subject at hand. I was holding a plate of sweets as I stood on his porch at five o'clock in the evening. It was hot, the sun I mean and I could feel my dull brown hair sticking to the back of my neck.

And I studied Dalton. From the way he had the short sleeves of his plain white tee cuffed, making it look way more expensive than it probably was, to the ponytail holder that tied his bleach blond hair on top of his head, exposing a shaved underside.

I studied the way he bit his lip and the way his arms flexed when he crossed them in front of himself.

Dalton was probably hotter than the sun itself.

"Australia," he'd answered, voice cool as he smiled small and forceful. I'd heard a girl's voice from behind him, my brain instantly assumed it was his mother and I felt my heart sink when I'd remembered his situation.

I felt the overwhelming need to hug him but I wasn't one for physical contact and really any kind of contact would just be weird at this point.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding," I'd let out when the same voice had called him again and a brief 'who's at the door' had resounded. I twisted my wrist nervously before using both my hands to hold the plate of cookies, my hands were sweating profusely and I wasn't sure whether or not it was noticeable.

Still Dalton hadn't responded to the female and in a minute, I'd seen her arms winding around him and her pressing a gentle kiss to his neck. Her brown hair fell just at shoulder length, parted in the middle and wavy and her long eyelashes framed her hazel eyes. There were a bundle of white flowers placed on top of her head and her full lips were painted a berry color. She was pretty, I could acknowledge that fact but she wasn't my type.

"Babe, who's this?" Her voice was soft, welcoming almost as if she had a giggle implanted in her vocal box; she'd had the same accent and that just added to her attractiveness. That and the fact that she was tanned perfectly, looking as if she'd just walked out of a catalogue. She slipped her hands down to his waist, wrapping loosely there and when he'd lifted his arm, she slid her way underneath to smile at me.

Dalton threw his arm around her and instantly I felt like a third wheel, rocking backwards on my heels. I felt like I was intruding I really did and I would've bolted right then with some lame excuse when Dalton spoke.

He forced a smile towards me, icy blue eyes not picking it up and uttered out a short, "Neighbor."

"Well, hi, I'm Quinn, Dalton's best friend."

She looked more like a girlfriend to me and she must've sensed that because she laughed at my confused look.

"We go way back. To toddler days."

That mustn't have been the right information to disclose because Dalton clenched his jaw, looking down at her. I wondered how they were best friends, she was so bubbly and he was so... not. "Quinn-"

"I used to live with him and Laura-"

Laura. At that Dalton gritted his teeth, eyes shutting tight and fists clenching at his sides. I'd assumed Laura was his mother and I felt his pain when he let out a response. "Stop it."

Her eyes went wide as she bit her bottom lip as if realizing what she had said. "Sorry, Dally." Maybe it was the way she pronounced it 'sore-y' or the look on her face but she seemed to feel guilty, embarrassed even as a blush made its way onto her round cheeks.

It was silent. And then, "Um so the sweets?"

"Yeah, sorry." I quickly placed them on his outstretched hand, intimidated beyond belief. He had that aura of power, that feeling of strength despite him being so obviously broken. He was good at hiding his feelings, keeping them on lock and really, the scariest people were the most emotionless, "My mom wanted me to make sure you felt at home, I'm sorry if you're busy."

He shook his head before I'd even gotten the chance to shut my mouth and his tone was all business, "I'm not. Thank you."

"Would you like to come in?" Quinn had asked, sensing not there was nothing left to say. I could tell however, she was just being nice.

"Uh, n-no, no..." I'd stuttered out, already set on stepping casually down his stairs. I slipped slightly, catching myself on the railing and I heard Quinn's giggle, "I'll just go. I've got a lot of homework."

I was on his driveway, walking towards my house when Dalton spoke up again, "You go to Jamison, right?"

That caught me off guard as I turned around nearly losing my balance on my worn out Chucks. My blush had simmered down but I could still feel the warmth in my ears as I stuttered out my reply, "Yeah, uh Jets... Jamison Jets."

Stupid, stupid, stupid Gabe.

"I forgot how bad school sucks..." Dalton had trailed off, no humor hidden behind what I would assume was a joke. And then I realized how real it must've been for him: losing your mom, having to go to school after all of it, and the pity he'd most likely received.

Slipping my hands into my back pockets, my eyes on the ground and I spoke before I thought... Seemed to be not thinking a lot those days, "I could uh show you around and stuff..."

"Ace," Quinn had muttered enthusiastically, pumping her fist and smiling up at Dalton who was not even paying attention to her.

He continued without a hitch, "Do you ride the bus?"

I almost shook my head but the universe had a funny way of fucking me over, Vince's car was only admitted into the shop a week before this little altercation. So if I had any will to say no, I'd have no alibi. And really, I didn't want to step out of the shadows but Dalton was hot, that was my first mistake... Falling for appearance over substance, "Yeah."

"We'll see you then."

And I nodded, maybe that was my second mistake.