Rotxo

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Rotxo had gone out to his car to smoke in between third and fourth blocks. He was too anxious. He had promised Ronal he would find it in himself to talk about his mother with someone he trusted. He knew who he wanted to tell. That was why he had avoided her like the plague during their periods together. He couldn't bring himself to do it. Rotxo had been on edge since Sunday, and it was starting to wear on him. He had just wanted to relax a little bit before the end of the school day. Instead, he ended up wasting hours in his car. It was warm, almost suffocatingly. After reclining his seat back and cracking a window, he had nearly fallen asleep. He hadn't even managed to smoke; he held the unlit joint between his thumb and pointer finger, just thinking. If he was to tell Kiri, where would he even begin? How could he even begin to describe someone like his mother? She was everything good in the world, with a deep warmth and gentleness that went beyond words. But, what really made his chest ache was that he could barely remember enough of her to do her justice. In his memory, she consisted of almond shaped eyes, always squinted with a smile, thick black curls, a musical laugh, and an aura so pure that her presence felt like being wrapped in silk. The details of her face had been lost to memory. The sound of her voice felt like a far-away song in a language he was almost fluent in. So much of her was out of reach, just beyond his fingertips. No matter how hard he stretched his arm to grasp her, she danced away as if it was a game. He tried to tell himself this wasn't his fault. He had been so young when she passed, and he had spent so long being passed around houses of family friends and relatives that he never got to fully mourn her in his own way. He had his eyes shut tightly, trying to form a picture of her face in his mind, when something banged against his door. Instinctively, he flicked his wrist towards the backseat, sending the unlit joint flying somewhere into his car. He shot up, eyes wide open.

"Neteyam?" he asked, locking eyes with him through his driver's side window. Neteyam turned to face him, a worried grimace on his face. He said something, but his words were obscured by the closed door. Rotxo shook his head and opened his door, poking his head out into the breeze. "What?" he asked, looking at him in confusion. "I, uh, hit your car with my door," he mumbled, eyes wide with fear. "Oh, that's fine, it just startled me," Rotxo grinned. "Why are you out of class? Aren't we still in fourth?" Neteyam's expression softened. "I could ask you the same thing," he joked. "Kiri's getting a migraine. I'm taking her home." Rotxo's posture straightened at the sound of her name. "Kiri? Is she here?" Rotxo regretted his question instantly. Of course she was here now, she was being taken home. "Yeah, she's in there," Neteyam gestured to his passenger side door. "Ao'nung's taking Lo'ak home for me," he added. Rotxo opened his mouth but hesitated. He had an idea, but he didn't know if Neteyam would like it. Or if Kiri even would. "I could take her home, if you didn't want to miss class," Rotxo offered, finding it difficult to hold eye contact with Neteyam. His eyes being lighter than his skin tone was disorienting at times. Neteyam raised his eyebrows. "Well, I-" "I mean, if she wants. It's already too late to go into fourth for me, I guess." Neteyam gave him an evaluating look before ducking into his car. Rotxo heard him whispering to Kiri. He strained his ears to listen for a response, but he couldn't hear one. "She said she would like that," Neteyam said, straightening up and looking over to Rotxo. "But, like, she doesn't feel good, so-" "No lights, no loud noises, cold compress to the neck. I know." Neteyam blinked at him. "I wish I had some decent explanation as to why I know that, but I think you mentioned something about Kiri getting headaches, so I looked it up," Rotxo laughed, hoping and praying Kiri couldn't hear him. Neteyam blinked at him. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Well, in that case, that's very-" "Can we go now? One of you?" a hoarse whisper echoed from Neteyam's car. Rotxo winced. "Yeah, of course," he whispered back, getting out of his seat to open the passenger seat door for her. She was wearing thick sunglasses and earplugs. "Poor girl," Rotxo whispered to himself, opening the door for her and helping her buckle herself in. "I'll go back to class then, I guess," Neteyam said awkwardly, hands in his pockets. "Oh, let your parents know I'm bringing her," Rotxo reminded. Neteyam blinked. "Neither of them are home, actually. Just, maybe, drop her off?" Rotxo felt disappointment fill his chest, but he quickly pushed it down. "Of course," he said, nodding. "Thank you so much," Neteyam called one more time before Rotxo got into his car. "No problem," he mouthed, getting in and shutting the door gently behind him.

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