Why Can't We Be Friends?

[x-foliate.livejournal.com]

Monday evening, around seven-thirty

The Energy Control classes left Jono feeling a little bit wound up every time. They made him too aware of his inability to retain any sort of control over his mutation, or the more destructive sides of it. Privately he though he was doing well enough with the communicating as it was, having started from a point where he hadn't even known he could do it. It was quite amazing what a promise of help could do to one's motivation to learn.

Thinking of that, Jono raised a hand and knocked on Mr. Summers' door. There was no reply, so he knocked again, a little bit louder and fingered the rather tattered sleeves of his favourite shirt while waiting. He noticed the shirt was starting to be rather dark grey instead of black and wondered how he was supposed to get himself new clothes with no money. Then he knocked again and because there was no reply he tried the door, which, to his surprise, was open.

He let the door swing fully open before stepping in and looking around. Mr. Summers didn't seem to be there so Jono perched himself on the armrest of a sofa, determined to wait.

It was then that Paige stepped out of the bathroom, clinging to the wall to avoid being seen out into the hall, and banged the door shut with her foot. She’d originally planned to just dress right after her bath, but seemed to have forgotten her fresh clothes somewhere in Scott’s room, presumably over a chair or the like. Her hair dripped perfumed water down her back irritatingly and she attempted to twist it up off her neck, but to no avail. It uncoiled, and fell back against the bare skin of her shoulders wetly.

Sighing in defeat, she decided to start the search for her missing clothes, and turned around to find a rather astonished Jonothan Starsmore watching a towel clad her with very wide eyes.

“Jono?” she asked dumbly, as if anyone else in the school had a gaping hole in his chest.

For a moment Jono sat there frozen, just staring at her, before making a swift reality check. "Sorry," he said, standing up quickly and retreating towards the outer door. "I was waiting for Mr. Summers." He would have asked what she was doing there if it hadn't been so bloody obvious. The thing that wasn't so apparent was *why* she was there, and he wasn't about to ask because he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"No, it's my fault, I left the door open and-" Paige cut herself off, crossing her arms in a wild attempt to look somewhat collected and not guilty. "He has a class right now, he should be back in..." she stretched to look at the clock on his nightstand and blanched, yanking the towel back into place. "Is that really the time? Well, I guess he's late then, lucky for me. I promised to be out by seven-thirty."

"I was in his class," Jono supplied, his eyes still quite firmly on her, but his hand on the door handle. "He was supposed to meet me here afterwards." He blinked. "I'll go wait in the hallway."

“Oh! For Heaven's sake, Jono, I'm not going to make you wait in the hallway like some lost little puppy!" Paige said, much louder than she expected to, and stalked over to the chair he'd just been sitting on, yanking her clothing from the back of the chair. She closed the door to the bathroom behind her, but appeared only a short moment later, in a more fashionable pair of jeans, (the only pair Alison would let her buy,) and still finishing doing up the buttons her shirt. Her fingers fumbled, hands shaking somewhat, and she finally just gave up and left the last couple undone.

"See? You're safe," she said, trying to smooth out her hair with her fingers. "I'll even leave you be. Just let me get my things."

Jono had stuffed his hands deeply into his trouser pockets and stood awkwardly by the door. "Sure, get your things," he muttered. "I'm not in your bloody way, am I."

Paige paused, her hand at her throat falling at her side, and regarded Jono curiously. She bit her lip and sighed. "Oh, Jono, I'm sorry. I've been saying things the wrong way all day today. You're not in the way, you're never in the way." She pauses, and tries to smile. "I'd give you a hug now or something, but I'm a mite wet. Would you like me to wait with you until Scott gets here?"

Jono gave her an incredulous look. "Why would I want a hug from you." There seemed to be some kind of bitter amusement in that thought, as well as in the next one. "Why would I want you to wait here with me. I can manage that on my own. I don't need your misguided notions of sympathy."

"What? You can only be nice to me when I have next to no clothes on?" Paige said, her accent showing up in her anger, hand raised threateningly. "I swear to God, Jono, if you had a jaw, I would be punching it right now. You seriously need some sense knocked into you, or at least a timeout in your room to think about what you've done."

"Oh. And what have I done," the brief flare of brighter light in Jono's chest was like a warning sign. He didn't move, but visibly tensed.

"Every time anyone does anything kind or gentle for you, you kick them in the shins and then try to run away. It's exhausting Jono! Why won't you just let me be your friend? What have I done that was so very wrong that you can't stand the sight of me? That you can't go five minutes without verbally slapping me?" She threw up her hands in defeat, violence forgotten for the moment, and blinked back tears.

"Because *no one* wants to be friends with the freaks," Jono moved toward her now, hands clutched into fists by his sides. "I can't stand it when you people treat me like I was normal when I'm bloody well not. I'm not even *human*," he stopped, the bitter amusement rising again. "Oh, of course, none of us are human here, in this freak circus, but at least you're not just a shell like me."

Paige shook her head angrily, sending tiny droplets of water across the room, before she stared up at him defiantly. "No. It's not any of that, as much as you want it to be. Yes Jono, you look different. So do a lot of people. That doesn't make them like you, though, this cold and unfeeling. You may not have a chest, Starsmore, but that doesn't mean you don't have to have a heart. We're all afraid, just like you, you're just the only one who is taking it out on everyone else. So yes. I want to be your friend, your companion. You terrify me and I don't care. Don't you get that? Everything that you're protecting yourself from, this shell that you've made for yourself, is merely cutting you off from the people who care about you. Who care about you a lot. And if just because I'm- we're part of some... some freak circus we're not good enough for you, then-"

"What the hell do you know," he snarled, cutting her off. "I'm trying to protect you. Trying to keep you from getting hurt. And you just don't seem to get it."

“What exactly are you trying to protect me from, Jono?” Paige cried. “Because you’re right. I don’t get it.”

"I'm trying to protect you from me," he stated, sparking with anger.

Paige stared at him in disbelief for a moment. “You’re serious. You actually think… Jono, I don’t want to be protected from you. If I considered you a hazard to my health I wouldn’t be stupid enough to be sticking around, contrary to popular belief.”

Jono shrugged and turned around to walk to the door. He opened it and looked over his shoulder at Paige. "Obviously I know better," he said and stepped out.

Paige watched his back, a frustrated cry escaping her lips as she stomped forward and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, and words started to form in her head, but she didn’t wait for a full sentence. Instead, she reached up and slapped him across the temple, eyes flashing. "Obviously you do, Starsmore. You were right; I do need protecting from you. Not physical protection, though. No, you only act like a monster. I'm starting to think I would prefer if you just lost it on me and blew up the hall. It would hurt less." Her words hung in the air a moment, before she turned and walked away.