Blue Bonding

Death didn't come. A social worker did.

However, the social worker also left. Almost straight after learning that my step-father is the Captain of the town's police force, one of the most respected men in town. It's not an abnormal thing. I've been visited time and time again by social workers. They all leave after meeting Maxwell, who assures them that I'm just a basic teenage girl with some sort of eating disorder and insecurities. None of it is surprising. If I were anyone else I'd probably just think he was charming too.

Looking to my left, I see Damon sitting one seat away, two seats closer to me than usual. He has his head buried in the Shakespeare novel, his brows furrowed as he struggles to understand the text. He's so buried in it that when the bell rings he almost jumps right out of his chair. He looks my way once he catches himself, showing me that small smile I never see him give others, and begins to pack up. I look back down at the table, slouching back in my chair and gently pressing against my stomach through my hoodie's front pocket. Somehow, applying pressure to it makes it hurt less. Normally I'd just draw to pass the time, but it all just seems so pointless now. It'd most likely take a chunk of what little energy I have left anyway.

"How are you feeling?" Like shit. Like a knife is slicing me open every time I move half an inch. Like there's an anvil repeatedly falling on my head. Like I'm made of lead. Looking back at Damon, I find him now leaning back in his chair staring at me, phone in hand and sunglasses on head. Although there are strands of hair in his face, most of it is tied back in that blue ribbon he has.

"Why the blue band?"

His brows furrow together and he sits forward in his chair, "Come again?" His arms, as always, are covered with long sleeves. Always covered unless fighting.

"The tattoo," I say, watching his eyes widen with surprise, "Why did you get it tattooed on you? You only need one blue item for the fights." Talking so much at once has my chest caving in on itself and I have to stop speaking to take a deep breath in. Damon rocks forward in his chair, staring at me absolutely dumbfounded.

"How . . How the hell do you know that?"

I guess he mustn't want me to know about the fights.

Swallowing hard, I scoot further back in my chair, the movement sending blinding pain from between my legs and up through the remainder of my body. It's painful enough that I don't even feel the pain in my thighs anymore. I have no doubt I'm bleeding again. I stay quiet, holding my breath to not make a sound and waiting for Damon to say something else. He leans back on two chair legs once again, crossing his arms over his chest and throwing his feet up on the table. As if preparing himself, he takes in a deep breath.

"I participate in the fights for a reason. I have the band as a reminder of why I'm participating and what for, and when I eventually stop it'll be a reminder of this part of my life. I never want to forget this part or what I'm fighting for."

With zero judgement I ask him, "Money?" His job is a million times better than mine. I'd fight if I could. He looks up at the clock, his leg jumping a few times. He needs to leave, so why isn't he?

"Not exactly," he says, looking back at me, removing his feet from the table.

"How do you know about me being Bullet? Who told you?" I almost smile, knowing he's sweet enough to never consider the possibility of me being down at the fights. When I don't answer him he rubs the stubble on his face, eyes darting to the door briefly, he asks me, "Does anyone else know?" Visibly relaxing when I tell him no.

"Why won't you tell me how you know?"

I'm seriously considering answering him, but before I can decide, none other than Joshua waltzes into the room. Damon throws his feet onto the table again.

"Thought I told you to beat it?"

"Your little scare tactics won't work on me. Besides, today's a new day," Joshua responds, smirking. My heart stutters. When I look back at Damon for answers on what he's been doing, I find him for once, not looking at me. He only has eyes for Joshua.

Joshua stares at me as he continues running his mouth, "Where you been at, girl? Hardly seen you." I don't answer, I just begin packing up. He's wanting my services if the crumpled blindfold in his hand is any indication. Damon's hawk eyes watch Joshua's every move as he stalks closer.

"Come here, girl," he instructs me, beckoning with a hand. Why does everyone call me girl? I get out of my seat, disappointed to be leaving Damon's presence. Loving any time that Damon and I can spend together.

The chair scrapes against the linoleum as Damon stands, resting his hand on my shoulder before I can pass him. It just makes Joshua scowl at him.

"Get out in the hall, girl."

Before I can take a step - "She's not going anywhere."

Damon barks, "Take a hike, fuck-face."

"Oh, come on. She wants to." Damon turns his back to Joshua, staring me straight in the eyes. He stares through my eyes and down to my very soul.

"Would you like to go with him?"

I don't answer, seeing an angry Joshua behind him. My vision begins to blur and I'm forced to suck on my lip to keep it from trembling. I know that Damon is trying to help but he's doing the opposite. He's making school life better and work-life harder. Over his shoulder, Joshua is making faces at him, repeatedly flipping me off and making motions as if he were pleasuring himself.

"Could you look at me?" I obey Damon and the jerky movement causes tears to slip.

"You have always had my protection, you have it now. Everywhere you are, not just here. Don't look at what he's doing, just look at me. Trust me again." My heart skips a beat. He knows. He knows something. I can't let him figure out anything else. So, although it physically hurts my heart to do so, I ignore him. And step around him. The few seconds immediately after I do go by so fast. Joshua's fingers barely graze my waist before he's flying across the room. He hits the wall with a thud, leaving a dent, then he's down on his ass. As he scrambles to his feet he looks about as shocked as I feel, especially when he feels the blood coming from his now crooked nose. Damon stands in front of me now, anger lining his face and curling his fists.

Joshua makes a weird motion with his mouth and Damon actually growls, "Don't even think about it, leech. I told you to take a hike. Leave before I fuck you up."

The threat scares me but his voice scares me more. It's so loud, full of power and authority, not normal in the slightest. It's almost what'd you'd expect the voice of a king to sound like. It scares me until I see his hands. Both behind his back, curling and uncurling, and his breath slowly evening out with it.

Joshua says something I don't quite catch as I watch it. Whatever he says though . . Damon growls. His hands form tight fists and his arms begin shaking.

"Don't talk about her or to her like that. She's nothing like you, you arrogant undead fuck."

"Hey, she might not be a mutt but I tell ya, I can definitely make her whine," Joshua chuckles, smirking and winking at me. Before I can blink Damon's fist connects with Joshua's jaw. Before I can blink, he's done it again.

My mind catches up with what's happening as Damon lifts his arm to swing again. I wrap my too small hand around his wrist. I only feel the tears on my face when he stumbles, looking at me incredulously. As if I've done something spectacular.

"Please don't," I plead him, although I'm not sure why. Instead of punching him again, he shoves the boy out the door, slamming it in his face.

Damon shouts, "I'm so fucking sick of him!" His hand runs through his hair, now unbound as he stops directly in front of me, staring at my face. I stay standing there, silent, allowing him a few moments to collect himself and calm down. I know how to calm him, I know exactly what to do. But I can't get attached and I can't let him get attached.

As he calms he still sports that incredulous look. What was it that I did that surprised him so much?

Wiping away my tears he asks me, "Why were you going to go with him? I don't understand." I stare up at him, readying myself for some sort of hit when I see his arm twitch. However, it's just a twitch, just a muscle. Nothing more.

"Are you ever going to answer my questions?" It's almost enough to make me smile, his tone and that tiny little smile he has. I'd already planned to write letters to Amber and Lily before I die, now I'll just have to write one more.