Thomas ran. He didn't know what else to do. It wasn't like in the movies, where he slammed the door behind him and ran half the length of the town without breaking a sweat. It was clumsy and painful and he left without having the last word, without saying anything really. He pushed his legs harder and pumped his arms, he was good at running, that was something no one could take away from him. Not even Gally. he ran until he couldn't tell if it was sweat rolling down his face or tears. Until his legs felt like they were ready to fall off and his lungs were burning and then he just ran faster.
Newt stumbled out of the apartment that he couldn't even call his own, despite being the person that paid for most of it. He kept his arms folded across his chest and walked. It wasn't cold but he kept his hoodie pulled tight around him wishing it had the power to swallow him whole. Nothing changed. Nothing ever changed, and he chided himself for thinking they would. The comments were the same, whether they were whispered behind his back at school, or spit in his face at home. ‘Maybe you should try again’ ‘you can't even kill yourself right’ ‘pathetic’ that was his personal favorite, pathetic. He had considered getting the word tattooed on his wrist. Not sure if he intended for it to be a reminder of what everyone thought he was, or what he refused to be.
Minho sped through the streets and around corners, running the red lights and ignoring the few cars that were actually on the road this late at night. It was odd but he felt free breaking the rules like this, not that he was a rule breaker, or wanted to put anyone in danger, more like he felt free for the first time in his life. He wasn't just someone else's puppet anymore. He didn't have to worry about what mommy and daddy might think because he didn't give a shit anymore. They couldn't touch him here, like this. They couldn't tell him how much of a disappointment he was. It made him laugh thinking about what his parents wanted for his future. It was the epitome of Asian stereotypes. Too bad he'd never been as smart as them. Too bad he never would be.
Thomas ran until his legs gave out underneath him sending him tumbling into the dirt.
“You good down there?”
“Fantastic.” Thomas responded glancing up at the boy standing over him.
“What were you running from?” He asked, glancing around. Something about him was very familiar and that distracted Thomas from the fact that he should probably be embarrassed that he just face planted.
“Nothing. Just running,” he said standing up and brushing the dirt off his white shirt. Now standing he looked the boy over, the sense of familiarity pulling at him again.
“Don’t stress yourself too much Tommy. I didn’t think you’d remember me.” he watched him pull his hoodie, his very familiar very red hoodie around himself. His eyes went wide.
“Holy klunk Newt. you look,” he trailed off. Because how could he possibly tell Newt he looked like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Regardless he was just as beautiful as Thomas remembered him.
“Like a fag? I get that one a lot, either that or a whore. What's your stance on the subject I'm just dying to know.” Thomas startled at his words pulling back a little bit as Newt turned away.
“I was going to say amazing.” he said slightly dumbfounded.
"Yeah, sure. I gotta say you look like shite." Thomas laughed. "Where are you going in such a rush?"
"Anywhere. I just have to get away." Thomas admitted kicking at the ground.
“Yeah me too, wanna join me?” Newt asked not quite looking at Thomas.
"Good that," Thomas replied falling into step with Newt. The walked in mostly silence and Thomas realized how much he truly missed this. Missed Newt. He wanted to tell Newt just how much he missed him but every time he opened his mouth he thought better of it. What could you say to someone that used to know everything about you? What could you say when it was your fault they didn’t anymore? Nothing. You say nothing because even ‘I’m sorry’ couldn’t touch this one. Not after-
His thoughts were interrupted by the screeching of tires. Thomas grabbed Newt by the arm and yanked him back so abruptly they both toppled over, Newt landing directly on top of him, just in time for the car to roll past them and stop in the middle of the crosswalk.
“Uh, Thanks, I think,” Newt said staring down at Thomas
“Anytime” They laid there for a little longer before Newt realized he was on top of him and quickly scrambled up.
"Oh Shuck guys I'm so sorry, is anyone hurt?" Thomas pushed himself up just as who he assumed was the driver of the Van was approaching them.
"Holy Klunk is that you Thomas?" Thomas looked the guy over.
"Yeah, what were you thinking trying to take out your competition for track captain Minho?" Thomas asked sourly brushing the dirt off of his jeans.
"No I didn't even see you, I was, shuck I was just trying to." it didn't take a genius to realize how upset he was.
"Trying to get away?" Newt said from where he was standing a few feet away from them.
"Yeah." Minho breathed looking from Newt to Thomas, curiosity in his eyes.
The three boys stood there staring awkwardly at each other for a while before anyone broke the silence.
"So you Shanks wanna get out of here?" Minho gestured to the Van sitting in the middle of the intersection with its lights still on. Thomas exchanged a glance with Newt before they both nodded.
"Good that, hop in," Minho said Heading back to the Van. Newt claimed the front seat and Thomas hopped in the back, sliding to the middle to lean forward.
"So what's the plan?" Thomas asked.
"Oh, Tommy you never were too good at winging it eh?"
That was the whole start of it. They all knew it would end messily. But they all figured it would be fun while it lasted.