*Not edited* Not proofread*

Chapter 24– Just my fucking luck:

Humans are weird.

Their way of life is just... strange. Some of the things they do for fun, some of the things they say for absolutely no reason at all, is odd.

Humans are odd.

I know I am technically human, but I never really grew up with that title. I was a subject, and subjects were disposable. No rights, no worth. At least that's what they wanted us to believe. But really, us subjects were the most important part of whatever fucked up plan the facility was built on.

However, despite being more subject than human, I've realised we all have something in common— secrets.

The world is built on dishonesty and withheld information. Everyone, no matter who they are or what their age, has a secret despite their differences.

We all have one small piece of information about ourselves that we don't speak about to others; we all have something to hide.

In my opinion, although bias because I have a lot of secrets, it's our right to keep some things to ourselves, hidden from the rest of the world and locked away in the back of our minds. I agree with keeping secrets, and I don't hold any more anger than I usually do to the people that keep them. But they are one of the reasons I've always been wary of people. Some secrets, although no one else's business but the person who holds it, can affect everybody if they're close enough.

And if I don't let my own secrets destroy me, why would I allow somebody else's to?

But, if there was one person in my whole however-many-years of existence that I've met that I believe didn't have anything to hide, I would have guessed it to be Zeke Daniels.

Not only does he talk about anything and everything, no topic in the world seeming off-limits to him, he also wears his feelings on his face for all to see. One would think if there was something troubling him, something weighing heavy on his mind, then everyone would be able to tell.

Especially those who pay attention.

I'm not a people person, which wouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who's met me, but I can figure them out quite quickly. I may not know every single detail about a person, and every piece of information I'm able to gather depends on each individual and their telltales, but more often than not I can get a pretty good first-reading. Though, I never really care to look for anything other than to find out if they could potentially be a threat to me.

So, when I met Zeke Daniels, I thought he was the average American boy. I didn't perceive him as a threat, just annoying, so I didn't pay further attention to him and the behaviours he displayed.

I knew his life wasn't perfect, but that's because no life is, though I guessed it would've been pretty close to it.

The more time I spent around Zeke as the days went by and watched the way he acted and listened to the way he spoke and what he spoke about, I started to believe I was right-- he really was average with an almost perfect life. He talked freely about everything, laughed all the time, smiled at everyone, and offered his kindness without wanting anything in return. His mouth was so fucking big I thought that, if he had any secrets, he wouldn't be able to help but share them.

I'm rarely wrong when it comes to observing people and drawing up a conclusion.

But this time had clearly been different... and I only come to realise this when I see Zeke sitting in the school parking lot after hours, alone and crying as he sits on the floor hugging his knees to his chest.

I'd lost my lighter at some point during the day and only just realised it now; over two hours after school let out. If it was any other cheap, random lighter, I wouldn't have bothered to come back and look for it. But this lighter is one that Jace got me when I was around fifteen and it was my first proper lighter that wasn't one of those plastic ones that came from a multipack, and it was also engraved. It only says 'For my Little Warrior', but still, engraved nonetheless.

After I'd searched my car and all my pockets, I'd realised the last place I had it was outside by the back of the school where I sat at lunch. So, I decided to come back and look for it. It's not like I have anything better to be doing.

I didn't expect anyone to be here, seeing as after-school practice for the sports teams finished two hours after classes did. But this town is just full of unwanted surprises.

Seeing Zeke's shoulders shake with each pitiful sob, I debate going over to him to make sure he's not severely hurt, or dying. It isn't my business, but the Jace voice still resonates through my head and it's hard to ignore sometimes because it sounds so lifelike that I almost believe Jace is standing right next to me talking into my ear. And Jace is a hard person to say no to.

        After a few long seconds, I decide that I don't want to put myself in any more awkward and uncomfortable situations that I don't need to be in, so I tell myself it's best not to disturb whatever Zeke is currently doing and just mind my own business.

        However, just as I make up my mind to fuck off and leave him be, I notice my favourite lighter just inches away from where he sits and my shoulders sag in irritation as my jaw locks briefly.

Just my fucking luck.

If the lighter wasn't so important to me, I'd leave it right where it lays, but the fact that it's the only thing I have that's truly mine and is worth more to me than any other mundane thing that I own, I know I can't just leave it behind in case it's gone when I come back for it at a later time.

So, with the most softest steps I've ever taken, I slowly walk over to where Zeke sits with his head down as small cries escape his lips, his throat making a strange sound that makes me believe it'll be sore in the morning.

With small, light footsteps, I get closer and closer to my lighter, almost successfully nearing it. But, clearly, my luck isn't the greatest today.

Maybe had I not been so focused on Zeke, I normally would've seen the stray empty can of soda in front of me before I accidentally— and regrettably— stepped on it. Unfortunately though, today isn't one of those normal days and my foot lands loudly on the metal that crunches underneath my heavy boot.

I close my eyes in frustration, knowing I've caught freckles' attention the minute I hear his crying stop. I don't look at him until I hear him clear his throat and mumble out my name in confusion. "What—What are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same thing." I shoot back accusingly.

He straightens himself up as he moves closer to the wall and outstretches his legs, wiping his eyes and acting as if I hadn't just caught him being a little cry-baby bitch. He avoids eye contact as he shrugs, licking his lips that look wet from his tears. "Um, not much."

"Aside from crying," I supply, crossing my arms. Zeke offers me a stern glares and it reminds me of our first time meeting here in school when I let Lilah introduce me to them in what would be the biggest mistake of my life. I roll my eyes at his non-threatening look as I walk over to my fallen lighter, not bothering to be quiet on my feet now that he's spotted me. "No point denying it."

"I'm not," he retorts moodily.

I nod my head in response as I bend over and pick up the metal lighter, the small object heavier than one would think. I flip it over and over in my hand, inspecting it closely for any sign of scratches or dents. Aside from the couple that were already on there, it seems to be in the same condition I lost it in— thankfully.

I shove the rectangular lighter inside my pocket before turning around, my eyes landing on an unmoving Zeke who, surprisingly, isn't paying me any attention. One leg remains laid in front of him while the other is bent at the knee, his arm draped over it as his fingers move together in an annoying fidget. His other arm is at his side, palm faced down on the floor, and that's when I notice his swollen and bruised wrist that I can see from his slightly bunched up sleeve.

        I take a moment to properly look at him, noticing the very light bruise on his jawline that's barely even visible as he turns away from me, and the scratches going up the skin of his neck that the hoodie doesn't cover. Earlier, I was too focused on keeping an eye on his face to make sure he wouldn't look at me, so I hadn't seen the state he's really in.

        "I can feel you staring at me," he mumbles out. I'm so focused on the way he looks rather than what he says I almost miss it. "Do you need something?"

        His words pull me back to reality and I scowl at him with distaste. "Why are you here?"

        "Why are you?" He fires back.

        "Does it look like I'm fucking playing, Freckles?" I snap. "Just answer the fucking question."

        He grimaces at the loud tone of my voice, or maybe it's the swearing, but I'm not bothered by his reaction because he has the same one almost all the time.

        As easy as Zeke is to figure out, he's still slightly more difficult than the average person. It's like he has two personalities; both so different from each other. Most of the time, he's Zeke— Plain, goofy, annoying, happy-go-lucky Zeke. He cracks jokes, teases people, pulls stupid faces, and never takes anything too seriously. He's soft and shy and flinches at every loud noise like a puppy.

        But on the other hand, he can be this complete different person, the complete opposite of his usual self. He becomes harsh and snappy, strict and unbothered by those around him, violent and less fearful of everything. I saw it at The Hangout, I saw it when he was defending Landon's name at school when some idiota was badmouthing the dark-haired brood in the hallways between classes.

        I've seen both sides to Zeke in the short period of time that I've known him in, neither of which I feel threatened by. But what I can't seem to figure out, is why he acts meek and shy some times, but in others, he acts a lot like the rest of the boys.

        When I raise my voice even slightly above what's normal, his shoulders tense and he shifts away from me so that he's out of immediate reach. Same goes for when the boys are angry and they shout or bicker with one another. Usually it's Gray and Dakota bickering, and when they do, Freckles' body seeks comfort with Landon and he unnoticeably moves closer to him.

        However, when it's someone Zeke doesn't know shouting or being extra aggressive, his shoulders raise and he stands taller, almost intimidatingly, and he looks unfazed and not like the shy boy that I've come to familiarise myself with.

It's... strange, to say the least. But it's not a medical issue, like a personality disorder— or not that I know of.

I've met a couple of people with personality disorders, and Zeke just doesn't fit the criteria. I could be wrong, but I have a feeling than I'm not. Zeke's change in behaviour is drastic, but not so drastic where one would think there a whole 'nother person inside of him, and I wouldn't say he's bipolar, either.

Freckles displays behaviours of someone who's experienced past trauma, maybe some form of abuse.

But when?

If the marks on his body were anything to go by, I'd say he's experiencing abuse right now, in current time. However, the marks aren't always there— in fact, it's the first time I've ever seen him hurt— and he's way too upbeat and free-spirited for someone who's suffering.

"—you're not even listening."

I'm pulled back to the conversation I had zoned out of when Zeke's voice finally registers and he sounds a lot less hostile and a lot more upset. When my eyes finally refocus, and the freckled-face mess is no longer blurry through my vision, I see he looks more dejected than he had before.

"Are your owners abusive or something?" I ask him, ignoring whatever it is he was saying, watching his face intently for his reaction.

As expected, he looks taken aback by my blunt question, his eyes widening as his head jerks back the slightest bit. Jace always warned me about having a filter, but I never did understand why people seemed to tiptoe around certain topics.

I know it has something to do with hurting peoples feelings and being 'insensitive', as Jace puts it, but I never had the time to care. In my opinion, grow a pair and shut the fuck up. I haven't got the time nor the energy to give a shit about other people and their shitty feelings that appear to be so easily fucking hurt.

"Y-y-you can't just— what the fuck, Kody?" Zeke sputters, his voice trembling, causing him to stutter over his words.

        I shrug carelessly. "Well, are you?"

        "Do you know how fucked up it is that you just asked me that?" He snaps defensively. "What is wrong with you?"

        "A lot of words, and yet, no answer," I observe, crossing my arms and tilting my head at him.

        Zeke shakes hid head, almost like he's in disbelief, and pushes himself off the ground, adjusting his hoodie. I scan his figure from head to toe, subconsciously checking him over for any injuries. Although he had training today, he's changed back into the clothes he wore to school, which is odd as most people go home straight after practice and don't bother changing back out.

        It's not like he had plans that would require normal clothing, either, because here he is, still hanging outside of school doing absolutely nothing— unless crying like a bitch counts as doing something.

        However, his jeans are scuffed at the knee and one even has a rip in it, the fabric stuck to his skin due to the blood leaking from whatever cut was formed in the midst of ripping his jeans. He also leans his weight to his left side, although,
usually, Zeke always favours his right side and even tilts slightly that way when he walks. For that reason I believe there's either something wrong with his foot, or something wrong with that side of his body.

        The fact that he has yet to leave the school premises and is still in this state, means something happened here. But the bruise on his jaw wouldn't have come up that quickly, so that would've had to have happened earlier on at some point, maybe even yesterday, and the scratches are new based on the raw skin surrounding them and the dried blood that's barely even noticeable. Plus, he had nothing wrong with his side earlier, and he wouldn't have been able to attend practice if he did, so that's recent, too. And he definitely went to training because he's kept his gym shoes on.

        The likeliness that two different people caused those injuries on two separate days is highly unlikely, and the fact that Zeke didn't have training yesterday eliminates the idea that it could be someone from the team who did this. Besides, Zeke doesn't have any issues with anyone in school— not at all.

I've never personally dealt with abuse, but the telltale signs are all there— I'm not as thick or as ignorant as I seem. His behaviour is odd now that I think about it, and seeing him like this, scratched up and bruised, confirms my suspicions that maybe Zeke isn't as happy as he seems.

The only question is: who the fuck is hurting him?

        "You better go," Zeke mumbles, staring up at the sky. "It's going to start raining soon."

        My eyebrows furrow. "How about take your own advice?"

        His hazel-green eyes drift to mine and make contact, his lashes separated from his tears. He nods his head slowly, thoughtfully, while licking his lips, before moving his gaze down to the floor. "Yeah," he whispers. "I better get going home."

        But something tells me Zeke really doesn't want to go home."

___

Author's Note

Poor Zeke ):

What are your thoughts?

And also... I was thinking about putting my Instagram on here, just in case you guys were curious to see what I looked like and just stuff like that. I know when I see people commenting (like the usual people) I always try to picture you guys — in the least creepiest way possible, I swear. But I also wasn't sure if I wanted to do it because like... I dunno really. I just wasn't 100% whether I should or not. I was thinking about it for ages and then somebody asked, so I was just wondering if that's something I should do.

So I'm asking you guys.

Do I put my Instagram on here? Are you's not bothered? Do you not think it's a good idea? Also, what do you guys think I look like? Like if you do what I do and try to picture people?

Let me know :)

And apologies I'm advance for the string of upcoming shitty chapters✌🏼