(no subject)
Reason
by Harikari
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Part Five
"I still don't understand why we're here," complained Mohinder.
They were sitting on the bleachers in the gym (which was decorated with shiny streamers, handwritten posters that declared Spring Fling After School Dance in different hues of marker and which was dark except for the hypnotic shine of a disco ball).
Gabriel bumped shoulders with him. "Because," he said over the boom of the music. "It's a school dance. And we're part of the school. Duh."
Eyes narrowed, Mohinder turned to stare at the smirking seventh grader. "Gabriel." At the sound of his name the other teen straightened, seemed to sober. "You hate this school. You hate everyone in this school. And we've never been to an after school dance before. I mean... I tried to come to one last semester. You remember how well that turned out."
Gabriel was silent for a moment. Mohinder swallowed, took in a deep breath and felt the heaviness that was guilt settle onto his shoulders. His best friend was only trying to have a little fun. He shouldn't have mentioned the difficult subject that was the Sarah Ellis incident, shouldn't have-
"Not everyone," said Gabriel, cutting into his thoughts.
"What?"
"I don't hate everyone that goes to this school," replied the younger teen. And he smiled. Bumped shoulders with Mohinder again.
Mohinder suppressed the strong urge to smile back. "I have homework. And I'm pretty sure you have homework. And it's not like we're going to dance with anyone. Especially after..." He trailed off for a second. Then, "None of these girls are going to dance with us, Gabriel."
The seventh grader heaved a sigh. "It's Friday, Mohinder. We have all weekend to do homework." A pause as he straightened his glasses. "And who says we're not dancing? We can dance."
That shocked the eighth grader into a snort. "What? Yeah, right. With who?"
And suddenly Gabriel looked uncomfortable. He shifted. Shrugged, then mumbled something unintelligible.
"What?"
"Dance," he spoke up. "I said we can dance. Together. If you want to."
Mohinder blinked. For a second couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't hear or see anything but the boy in front of him.
Then he realized that the other teen must be joking. (Of course he's joking, thought the eighth grader. How can he not be joking?). He burst into a startled, strained sounding laugh and shoved at Gabriel's elbow. "Don't be a jerk, Gabriel. You shouldn't joke like that."
A pause. Then, "Yeah, well..." Smiling a soft looking smile the other teen shrugged again.
Mohinder shook his head, stood. "I'll be right back." He moved away from the bleachers and across the crowded floor, glanced back when he reached the double doors leading out of the darkened stretch of space and saw that his friend was staring after him.
The eighth grader stared back. Maybe... But he shook his head and turned away, brushed the thought aside before it could even fully form.
Then he stepped out of the gym.
-----
"I need to talk to you," came a voice from behind just as Mohinder was curling over the water fountain to get a drink. He managed to swallow a startlingly cold mouthful of water before his thumb let up on the button and he stepped back from the fountain.
"Oh," he said and wiped at his mouth with his sleeve. "Uh...hello."
It was Sarah.
She was dressed in a blue t-shirt and jeans, looked unnaturally pale under the bright hallway lights. Her dark hair was up in a ponytail. Her mouth was a thin, straight line.
Mohinder realized she must have followed him out of the gym (which was a loud and busy flash of lights and movement somewhere beyond the hallway now), that she must have stayed waiting for him outside of the boy's bathroom (he turned red at that thought).
"Mohinder," she started in a soft voice. "About Gabriel..." She trailed off; met his eyes with her own. "I know I was a bitch when you asked me to the dance before...before..." She stopped, swallowed hard before continuing. "I shouldn't have acted that way. I mean...I even like you, Mohinder. I've known you since elementary and I like...liked you and the only reason I did that to you was because you hang around with Gabriel Gray."
She paused again. Turned away from Mohinder and looked down at the tiled floor. "I shouldn't have acted that way. But this has been, like, eating away at me or something and I have to say it or I'm going to go crazy. Or I'm going to regret not saying it for the rest of my life."
Mohinder narrowed his eyes. "What? What is it, Sarah?"
"I know Gabriel murdered my cat, Mohinder." The teen started to shake his head in protest but she plowed on anyhow. "I know it was him. And I'm not just saying it because I think he's a creep, or because of the way everyone has always treated him and all of the things they say about him and all of the things they say he's said or done. I'm not just blaming him because he's easy to blame."
She looked up again (she was crying a little, her eyes wet around the edges), then moved so that she was crowded close to the other eighth grader. So that they were almost touching.
Feeling trapped, Mohinder stared at her. Thought that she seemed oddly small next to him. Probably because he was always with Gabriel, who towered over him, he realized a heartbeat later.
"I know it was him," said Sarah. "I know he's dangerous. Something is wrong with him. And...and I think you should stay away from him from now on, Mohinder."
Part Six
by Harikari
-----
Part Five
"I still don't understand why we're here," complained Mohinder.
They were sitting on the bleachers in the gym (which was decorated with shiny streamers, handwritten posters that declared Spring Fling After School Dance in different hues of marker and which was dark except for the hypnotic shine of a disco ball).
Gabriel bumped shoulders with him. "Because," he said over the boom of the music. "It's a school dance. And we're part of the school. Duh."
Eyes narrowed, Mohinder turned to stare at the smirking seventh grader. "Gabriel." At the sound of his name the other teen straightened, seemed to sober. "You hate this school. You hate everyone in this school. And we've never been to an after school dance before. I mean... I tried to come to one last semester. You remember how well that turned out."
Gabriel was silent for a moment. Mohinder swallowed, took in a deep breath and felt the heaviness that was guilt settle onto his shoulders. His best friend was only trying to have a little fun. He shouldn't have mentioned the difficult subject that was the Sarah Ellis incident, shouldn't have-
"Not everyone," said Gabriel, cutting into his thoughts.
"What?"
"I don't hate everyone that goes to this school," replied the younger teen. And he smiled. Bumped shoulders with Mohinder again.
Mohinder suppressed the strong urge to smile back. "I have homework. And I'm pretty sure you have homework. And it's not like we're going to dance with anyone. Especially after..." He trailed off for a second. Then, "None of these girls are going to dance with us, Gabriel."
The seventh grader heaved a sigh. "It's Friday, Mohinder. We have all weekend to do homework." A pause as he straightened his glasses. "And who says we're not dancing? We can dance."
That shocked the eighth grader into a snort. "What? Yeah, right. With who?"
And suddenly Gabriel looked uncomfortable. He shifted. Shrugged, then mumbled something unintelligible.
"What?"
"Dance," he spoke up. "I said we can dance. Together. If you want to."
Mohinder blinked. For a second couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't hear or see anything but the boy in front of him.
Then he realized that the other teen must be joking. (Of course he's joking, thought the eighth grader. How can he not be joking?). He burst into a startled, strained sounding laugh and shoved at Gabriel's elbow. "Don't be a jerk, Gabriel. You shouldn't joke like that."
A pause. Then, "Yeah, well..." Smiling a soft looking smile the other teen shrugged again.
Mohinder shook his head, stood. "I'll be right back." He moved away from the bleachers and across the crowded floor, glanced back when he reached the double doors leading out of the darkened stretch of space and saw that his friend was staring after him.
The eighth grader stared back. Maybe... But he shook his head and turned away, brushed the thought aside before it could even fully form.
Then he stepped out of the gym.
-----
"I need to talk to you," came a voice from behind just as Mohinder was curling over the water fountain to get a drink. He managed to swallow a startlingly cold mouthful of water before his thumb let up on the button and he stepped back from the fountain.
"Oh," he said and wiped at his mouth with his sleeve. "Uh...hello."
It was Sarah.
She was dressed in a blue t-shirt and jeans, looked unnaturally pale under the bright hallway lights. Her dark hair was up in a ponytail. Her mouth was a thin, straight line.
Mohinder realized she must have followed him out of the gym (which was a loud and busy flash of lights and movement somewhere beyond the hallway now), that she must have stayed waiting for him outside of the boy's bathroom (he turned red at that thought).
"Mohinder," she started in a soft voice. "About Gabriel..." She trailed off; met his eyes with her own. "I know I was a bitch when you asked me to the dance before...before..." She stopped, swallowed hard before continuing. "I shouldn't have acted that way. I mean...I even like you, Mohinder. I've known you since elementary and I like...liked you and the only reason I did that to you was because you hang around with Gabriel Gray."
She paused again. Turned away from Mohinder and looked down at the tiled floor. "I shouldn't have acted that way. But this has been, like, eating away at me or something and I have to say it or I'm going to go crazy. Or I'm going to regret not saying it for the rest of my life."
Mohinder narrowed his eyes. "What? What is it, Sarah?"
"I know Gabriel murdered my cat, Mohinder." The teen started to shake his head in protest but she plowed on anyhow. "I know it was him. And I'm not just saying it because I think he's a creep, or because of the way everyone has always treated him and all of the things they say about him and all of the things they say he's said or done. I'm not just blaming him because he's easy to blame."
She looked up again (she was crying a little, her eyes wet around the edges), then moved so that she was crowded close to the other eighth grader. So that they were almost touching.
Feeling trapped, Mohinder stared at her. Thought that she seemed oddly small next to him. Probably because he was always with Gabriel, who towered over him, he realized a heartbeat later.
"I know it was him," said Sarah. "I know he's dangerous. Something is wrong with him. And...and I think you should stay away from him from now on, Mohinder."
Part Six