Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ A Fugitive and Me ❯ Mellow Yellow ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter 3- Mellow Yellow

 

When he said to forget it we both really did seem to forget it. Somehow the whole conversation made me more comfortable with him, and I think he was more comfortable with me too. We didn't get much done, I would poke innocent fun at him every time I saw a chance, and then he always had something to throw back at me. He really wasn't weird at all, in a lot of ways he was just like all my other friends. For a moment I even forgot just whom it was I was talking to, and even when I remembered it didn't make a difference. He only had two paragraphs written on Shakespeare's childhood after two full hours. We would break out into laughter about every too lines anyway, and the subject would change. Either way I didn't really care anymore if we got it done that day, I wouldn't have minded coming here again at all.

 

“I don't like your name,” I said out of the blue, leaning back and looking through the book I was holding for another important event in Shakespeare's childhood.

 

“What?” Melvin's eyes narrowed and he turned around in his chair. I took a sip of Mellow Yellow soda and shrugged. “What's wrong with my name?” He crossed his arms and gave me a look that probably would have been threatening had it come from any other person.

 

“It's so ugly, Mel is okay, but Melvin reminds me of a fat nerdy geek with buck teeth,” I replied. “You should have some kind of nickname, something cool. My real name is Fred, you can even check my birth certificate, but I'm pretty much the only one left that knows it. Fred is an ugly name too, that's why I changed it,” I looked at him, trying to think of a fitting nickname. He just stared at me in disbelief, which I ignored for the most part, someone with a name like Melvin automatically isn't gonna have any friends. At least, that's how I saw it.

 

“I guess,” He seemed to have given in. “I don't really like my name either, but I always though it fit me, you know… because I'm so…”

 

“Mellow Yellow!” I pointed at my pop can and grinned. The look on his face was even more insulted than it had been before. “Come on, it's cool, and I can still call you Mel!” I patted him on the cheek.

 

“You mean, you want to name me after a coke product that shrinks your reproductive organs? Gee thanks…” He rolled his eyes and turned back to his computer. I scoffed and slammed the can down next to his mouse pad.

 

“Shut up, that's just a stupid myth, and besides, it's like that song, you know? They call me Mellow Yellow?” I started humming the part of the tune I knew, doing what I could to get him to comply.

 

“Whatever, Fox,” He sighed and went back to his computer, scrolling down a webpage for things to put in our report. I took that as a surrender and decided I'd call him Mellow Yellow from then on. And from then on, he was Mellow Yellow.

 

We'd finished the first five paragraphs that were on Shakespeare's childhood, and agreed that I'd walk home with him again the next day to finish up. It would have been Friday and I could stay out as long as I wanted, I'm sure my parents wouldn't have missed me, or even realized I was gone.

 

They were fighting like maniacs when I got home. My mom was throwing things around, knifes, telephones, even soap bars. My dad was calmer, as usual, he was yelling but he wasn't going as crazy, and he stayed in one spot. That was the strange thing about the two of them, if one of them was abusive to the other it was my mother toward my dad. I couldn't think of one time he'd hit her, but she was always throwing things at him, always starting pointless fights. I hated them both, hated my mother for being such a bitch, and my dad for being such a pussy.

I snuck up to my room without a sound and was undetected. I probably should have spent the night at Mile's like I usually did, but it was already nine o'clock and I didn't want to bother his sweet mother. Lord knows she'd probably run to the store in her bathrobe if I showed up without a toothbrush. His mom had always been more of a parent to me than anyone, and his dad too when I thought about it. Miles had gotten lucky with his parents, but according to my own, I was a mistake, and they made it obvious that they didn't really want me. I think they just keep me for the child support money they got every sixth months.

 

The next day during first period health class, Miles wouldn't stop bragging to me about the things he'd done with Terry after they'd finished their English project. He was saying it as if it was some big secret that they fucked like rabbits whenever they got a chance. They were whores for each other, literally. Dwayne told me that they were already to the `I love you' stage, after only two weeks. Being someone who's never had a relationship of my own, I'm not sure if that's good or bad, but I assumed a little bit of both.

 

I was actually not moping over the fact that I had to go to history class today, which was new for me. For the past two weeks History had been the class in which I sat there, and did nothing but school work, no talking when I'm not supposed to, no talking even when I'm aloud to. No nothing, I felt like a complete nerd, at least I was getting a good grade. But now I guess I had someone to talk to, the kid I'd proudly named Mellow Yellow, sat right next to me. And assuming we were at least acquaintances now, he had to talk to me.

 

“Melmel!” I sung as I sat down in my seat. He gave me the same look he had on the first day of school, the one he'd worn right before asking “why are you talking to me?” I ignored it, seeing as he didn't seem to have anything to say this time, I looked at what he was drawing.

 

“Aww,” I turned the book so that I could see the picture right side up. It was a picture of two people holding hands, I couldn't make out genders because all that was there were arms, but I assumed they were both guys. “So cute. You really should consider trying to draw me again, I was so flattered when I thought you had,” I struck a pose I thought may have been sexy but he just raised an eyebrow and wrinkled his nose, so I stopped.

 

“You didn't sound flattered,” He laughed a bit. “You sounded freaked out,” He turned the sketchbook to a page in the middle, there was my photo from last year, and on the page there was an erased oval that somewhat resembled a human head. “Did you know that you have a really weird shaped head?” He turned to me and his eyes seemed to me scanned the circumference of my head. I stuck out my bottom lip and pouted, so very insulted.

 

“You have big ears,” I crossed my arms and leaned back in my seat. He laughed and shut the sketchbook on my picture as Mr. Curtis stood up from his chair and took his position in the front of the room.

 

I really didn't want to stop and listen to him preach about some damn French Indians or whatever the hell it was, so I pulled out a piece of notebook paper and decided I was going to write Mellow Yellow a note. Yes me, the guy who told you earlier on that he hates notes, I am going to write a note.

 

I don't really know what I'm going to write so I start with just random stupid things.

 

Hi, Mel. I'm bored, this is a strictly boredom triggered thing, me writing notes…. me writing notes to you especially. Lol, just kidding, I love you…

 

I wasn't so sure I should have written that last thing, but I left it there away, giving myself the benefit of the doubt.

 

Do you think Mr. Curtis is hot? I do. Him and his pink shirts. He always wears a pink shirt, you notice that? I think he gets a boner during class, that's why he always hides behind his desk. I bet Shannon's caked eye shadow gets him off. You know that was funny. So, anyway, Mellow Yellow, are you going to that party on Friday?

 

I knew he wasn't going, he was so obviously not the partying type of guy. But now I wanted to get him to come, just to have a little real fun for once, see what it's like not to be an anti-social weirdass. I waited until Mr. Curtis's back was turned and then tossed the note on his desk, just before Curtis turned around. I slouched in my seat but grinned victoriously, Mellow Yellow looked at the note as if he suspected that it was a bomb, I giggled. Curtis glared at me and I just glared back, it was funny when he got this scared look on his face and immediately turned away. I almost felt bad, the poor vulnerable newbie teacher was afraid of my evil look. I was beginning to notice that I probably could have had a lot of fun with him if I wanted to.

 

Mel opened the note cautiously under his desk, I could see his hands shaking as he did it, glancing up at Curtis every two seconds to make sure he wasn't being watched. I watched as he read it and then took out his pencil, writing something back. It couldn't have been very much because it barely took him a second to finish. Then he folded it up and gave it back to me.

 

I used the same method he did, opening it under my desk. I couldn't help but scoff when I saw what he'd written, he obviously had no note writing skills whatsoever.

 

Lol.

No.

 

That's all it said. I wasn't in the mood to write back anymore and decided I'd talk to him about it later in person. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that Curtis had stopped talking until I started folding it back up and heard little giggles around me in the silence. I looked up slowly, the prick was leaning on my desk, his hand was touching my history book, I fought the urge to push it away and slap him.

 

“Hello,” He smirked at me.

 

“Hi,” I smiled back a really big, lovely, good student smile. “How may I help you?” I tried ripping the note in half under my desk where he couldn't see it. That didn't work, all of the sudden there was a third hand on it, tugging it out of my grasp. I sneered at him, clenching my teeth as I tried to pull it away, I really, really didn't want him to read it, even if the whole thing had been a joke. After a very short game of tug-of-war, me verse my history teacher, he yanked it from my hands. Without a word, just a victorious smile, he strutted over to his desk, probably thinking he was really something, and dropped it in the trashcan. I was relieved and I let out a sigh, but I think he noticed because he was giving me this knowing smile. I could almost hear myself growl, it was war now, just because he made that stupid face, it was war.

 

I looked at Mel and almost gagged, he was laughing, or failing miserably at trying not to laugh. The little prick, I wanted to slap him upside the head but I think that would have gotten me into some real trouble.

 

When the lesson was over and Curtis told us we could talk, the first thing I did was give Mel this hateful glare.

 

“I was like, sweating my ass off over here and you were over there giggling, you little bitch, I should hurt you,” I pouted.

 

“Sorry,” He chuckled, not really sounding sorry at all. “You shouldn't have written that if you didn't want him to see it, if you're passing notes when you sit in the very front of the room you're just asking to get caught,” He said, as if he knew all about it.

 

“Well pardon me if I'm not thoroughly trained in the art of note passing,” I scoffed in sarcasm. “Most of the time they just tell you to put it away and mind their own damn business. But this one just had to be a prick…” I looked at Curtis and he looked up at me too. I'd said it pretty quietly but he must be a rabbit because he had this look on his face that made it obvious that he'd heard me. He said nothing though, and he was smart, because if he would have done anything I would've said it again. That probably just would have given him even more of a reason to suspend me though.

 

“Hey, you're just lucky he didn't read it,” Mel shrugged. The bell rang immediately afterward and I got up without any reply, glad to get the hell out of there.

 

-0-Ten Years Later-0-

 

Back to work, back to mopping next to the nose-picking idiot with the uncontrollable laughter. Only this time he was quiet, just doing his share of the work, looking like an actual normal human being this time. He must have been a morning person, and now that it was the afternoon, his fingers had lost their desire to go gold digging. So mopping for the second half was at least somewhat bearable, but the smell of whatever soap was being used was still making me nauseas.

 

I didn't pay much attention when Lisa came over the speaker, that is until I realized she was saying my name.

 

“Fox Murphy, cell 34, you're wanted in the filing office, Fox Murphy, thank you,”

 

I was clueless as to why I would be wanted in the filing office of all places, it was just a big empty room where the criminal files were kept. I doubted the fact that anyone even went in there anymore except to store the files, and that was a quick in and out thing, why the hell would I be wanted there? Either way, whatever it was it was a lot better than this mopping shit and dropped my mop, letting one of the guards know that it was my name that had been called. He looked at his clipboard, probably looking to see if the name he'd heard was on the attendance schedule for today, and then called one of the other guards over.

 

“Escort him to the filing room, would you?” He pointed a finger in my face, I wanted to bite it off for being so damn close to my nose. The other guard nodded and took me by the arm, apparently he thought he had to be extra harsh because he practically dragged me all the way there. I think by the time we got there my arm was about ready to break off. But, I forgot all about it when I saw Matt, talking to what looked like the cafeteria guy, standing my the filing room door with his hand on the doorknob. Oh, so I'd asked the guard to tell Matt I wanted to talk to him, this really wasn't what I'd had in mind.

 

I think he almost smiled when he noticed I was there, but caught himself when he realized he was looking at someone who wasn't to fond of other people's stupid friendly smiles. The guard that held my arm dropped it and left without a word, and then so did the Cafeteria guy, so then it was just me and Matt standing there alone. Had I known his intentions I would have turned and ran as soon as he opened the filing room door for me to go in. But being the oblivious boy I always have been, I walked right in, and he followed, shutting the door behind him. It wasn't until I was basically locked in with him that I realized that this entire scene was far too suggestive for my taste.

 

“I heard you wanted to talk to me,” He said casually, leaning against the door. I nodded, looking around the room, there was a table with boxes stacked on top of it, at least six file cabinets, and more boxes stacked up in random places around the room. It was also really dusty, they should have cleaned it up more, or better yet, make the board East Wing prisoners do it, I'm sure they'd love to.

 

“Well good, because I wanted to talk to you too. There's some things me and you don't have exactly straight at this point…” Matt sighed. “It's kind of coming between us in a negative way,” He shrugged, putting his fists in his pockets, I could have sworn he just looked me up and down, too. I said nothing but gave him my best `I don't care' look, but I think it came out as more of a `what the fuck are you looking at' look.

 

“First of all, I have to confess that I lied to you,” He began, and I still didn't care. “I'm not on suspension, and technically I'm still a cop, I did request to come here, though,” He said. Now that I had this new information I really wasn't sure I wanted to know why he would request to lower his rank, just to come here.

 

“Second, and what probably started us off on the wrong foot, I didn't shoot Tom,” He said softly. I glared daggers at him, of all the people in the world, he knew I hated hearing that name, but that didn't change the fact that I was a little more interested now in what he was saying. “It wasn't me,” He added. I didn't need to ask him who it was, because if he wasn't lying, then there was only one other person it could have been. Still, I wasn't so sure I believed him. “I never wanted him to die, Fox, or do this to you especially, I know you loved him. I wouldn't have shot him if I didn't have to.” I wished he would have shut up, I suppose I believed him by now, most likely just because those eyes were always so damn innocent and convincing. But on top of that I now wanted to lay down and die.

 

“I want a notebook,” I mumbled for the sake of changing the subject as fast as possible.

 

“What?” He asked.

 

“I want a notebook, like a journal, can you get me one?” I repeated. “Any cheap notebook, that is, if you're willing to give up the time. And a pen if you don't mind,” I said. He looked at me blankly at first but then nodded.

 

“I can get you that,” He said. “But there's one more thing,” He was coming toward me slowly, and I was backing away in the same manner. The look in his drop-dead adorable eyes made me feel like I should have run, but instead I backed myself into a file cabinet. I hated the predator-like look on his face as he approached me, I didn't want to think about what the son of a bitch had in mind.

 

“Fox,” He was right in front of me, leaning in closer. I felt his thigh against my own as he put his knee against the file cabinet, blocking me in where I was standing. I thought he was going to kiss me at first, but he passed my lips and brushed his own against the rim of my ear. I scowled, clenching my teeth, having the urge to bite his head off if only my mouth were big enough. “Jesus, Fox,” He said in his low, husky voice. “I want to fuck you in so many different ways,” He pressed himself up against me. I think I gagged, way to be blunt. Either he was a rapist, or he took me not saying anything as compliance, because after that I felt his tongue in my ear.

 

“Up-side-down, side-ways, backwards, you have no fucking idea,” Oh shit, he was rubbing himself against me, hips practically melting into mine. I could feel his hardening cock pressing up against my groin as his tongue ravished my poor ear.

 

“You're right, I don't have any idea,” I finally managed to say something, it came out in a low growl. “Because I'm not an old fucking pervert,” I tried to kick him in the groin but he caught my knee with his hand. He pushed himself even harder against me, grinding that disgusting dick into my thigh now.

 

“Come on Fox, this is probably the last chance you'll ever have to get laid for the rest of your miserable life,” He chuckled into my ear and started trailing kisses down my neck.

 

“Knowing how desperate you are…” I tried to squirm away, but he was holding my wrists down by my sides firmly against the cabinet. “…I'm sure I'd be able to come to you for a free blowjob whenever the hell I feel like it,” I tried jerking my arm away but he didn't budge. I swear I could feel him smirk against my neck just before he flipped me around so that my back was turned to him. I didn't have time to even let out a yelp before he was pushing me against the table with his hips, forcing me to bend over as he dry humped my ass. I scowled, feeling his rough hand rip through my hair, he let out a needy moan, and started moving even faster.

 

“This is sexual harassment, Matt, which may I remind you, is against your beloved law?” I scoffed, feeling one of his hands slip up my side and started pinching my nipple through the suit. I held back a moan and cringed, trying in any way I could to break free.

 

“Shut up,” He inclined forward and bit down on my ear. Hard. It hurt like a bitch but I didn't allow myself to make a reaction. He wasn't getting anything out of me, even if he raped me with his oversized dick.

 

“I'm not letting you fuck me, Matt,” I said plainly. “So have your way and I'll report you for rape, or get the fuck off me, you bastard!” It was safe to say I was beyond pissed off. He didn't move for a few moments after that, but within thirty seconds he was off of me. Not just off, but by the time I looked up all I saw was the filing room door slam shut. I stood up straight ran a hand through my hair to move it out of my face. That was so fucked up.

 

I woke up the next morning to find a black 5-subject spiral notebook next to my bed. That son of a bitch. I reached down and picked it up, examining the cover. It was actually pretty nice, the front and back cover were both hard and had a sort of floral design imprinted in the black material. There was a pen in the wiring along the side, brand new, still had the label stuck on it. I pulled it out and opened to the first page of lined paper, on it Matt had already written something.

 

Merry Christmas, have fun asshole.

-Matt

 

Hah, this was precious, the disgusting old pervert tries to shove his law-banging prick up my ass, and I'm the asshole. I laughed aloud, not realizing that Darryl was awake and combing his ugly bleach blond hair. He gave me a funny look and I wished I had something to throw at him.

 

“Don't look at me, faggot,” I waved him off and turned away, opening the notebook to the next open page. I couldn't help but remember the first time, and the millions of other times Tom had accused me of being a `hypocritical moron' when I used that word. But that was probably the only issue I disagreed with him on, to me it was just a word, and if people wanted to take it offensively that was their choice, but I didn't. Never would.

 

“What'd you call me?” Darryl's voice wasn't the usual overly happy bouncy shit I'd heard from him before. He sounded either pissed to tears, or very, very offended by it. I looked over my shoulder to see that it was neither, in fact, he looked scared. “Don't call me that, I'm not the… homosexual… person here, so keep your comments to yourself,” He was glaring at me from across the cell. I sat up in my bed slowly, eyes never leaving his.

 

“You have a problem with my fagness?” I squinted, giving him my most threatening expression. It crossed my mind as to how he found out, as he obviously knew, but I had to assume it was Matt, who else was that much of a jerkoff.

 

“I…” He looked away, I saw a lump form in his throat as he swallowed. “You… you're not going to… do anything to me, are you?” His eyes met mine again and the fear was apparent. I just stared at him, what he said going through my brain over and over again before finally, I burst into laughter. Falling back onto my bed I continued to giggle, every time I looked at his face I started laughing even harder. It was apparent that he didn't find anything funny. I couldn't believe he'd thought I was going to rape him or something, he looked so much like a perverted fag himself, the creepy way he smiled at me, I'd never thought him to be an actual homophobe. And when I say homophobe, I mean someone who is actually afraid of people like me, I think he's the first I've ever met…

 

“Shit, man,” I caught my breath. “Anyone who isn't blind can tell you're totally not worthy of getting any, one way or the other,” Okay, maybe a little harsh. His jaw fell open and I could have sworn he was going to ra- er… hurt me for that. “No, Darryl, I'm not going to rape you, holy shit is this why you wouldn't talk to me yesterday? I mean, not that I missed you…” I was still wearing a goofy grin and he was still giving me that hateful stare.

 

“I guess… I just don't see how you could be… you know… you're so good looking and could probably get girls easy,” He shrugged. I also found it funny that he had trouble saying the word `gay' probably one of those people who only liked it when it meant `happy.'

 

“What's that have to do with anything?” I raised an eyebrow. “Being gay doesn't have anything to do with not being able to get girls, where the fuck do you live, under a rock?” Despite the fact that I was not very easily offended, that had gotten to me a little, I could get girls, I just didn't want to.

 

“No,” I think he was about to cry. “That's just what my mom told me… I… I just,” Yeah, his eyes were watering. I tried not to laugh at him.

 

“Dude, you're still living by what mommy told you, what the hell are you in here for anyway?” I couldn't believe someone as stupid and innocent as this idiot could have been capable of anything that would have put him in a place like this.

 

“I killed… my dad…” He broke into tears. “It wasn't like that though, he said… he wanted to die, and he said I had to help him because I was his son… no one believed me… I… I…” He was practically choking on the tears. I rolled my eyes and leaned my forehead on my hand, so he was a suicide accomplice, poor little sissy son of a bitch. He was over their sobbing like a little girl and at this rate the guards would probably think I was making fun of him or some shit, but I wasn't… not really.

 

“Hey,” I barked. “Stop crying, okay, it's pointless, I'm not gonna come over there and hug you or anything…” I think I saw his eyes widen when I said that “…So just stop it, all right?” It didn't work, I didn't think it would have been possible at that point but he started crying even harder. Why me? Why do I have to deal with this shit? I had my own problems!

 

“ I'm not supposed to be here,” He choked. “I was never supposed to get arrested, I didn't do anything wrong!” He yelled at me. Well, technically he did, but he was such a simpleton that he obviously didn't know what he'd done was wrong, poor guy. I think I just felt sympathy for him, that was something I hadn't felt for a while.

 

“Darryl,” I sighed “Cut it out, okay? There's nothing to cry about, it's not that bad here, you have friends, remember? You wouldn't have those friends if you never came here,” It was a pitiful point, I know, but I would have done anything to get him to shut up by now.

 

“I want my mom,” He sobbed. Oh no, he did not just give me the little annoying toddler `I want my mommy' shit, shut the fuck up already!

 

“Inmates to prison showers now, all inmates, thank you,” Thank you Lisa! You whore! Thank the prison staff for Fridays and shower time! Darryl seemed to suck it up as soon as she came over the speaker, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and stood up, saying nothing as he exited the cell after it opened. I sighed and followed, this shit is just messed up.

 

A/n- This one is shorter than usual, by about 700 words, really :P. I was going to go back to the past and add more but this seemed like a good place to end it. I think it'd be better anyway if the next scene happened all in one chapter and it's moderately long. The next chapter will be set most likely in Fox's past only, but I'll have to wait and see. I'm not making this up as I go but I'm never sure how things will ultimately turn out. One of the sparks of writing xD.

 

I'd like to thank Bandaid On Your Heart, LizLizLiz, Amerez, Orangeena, always without complaint, and Midnights Scream for reviewing and letting me know what they think! Reviews really do encourage me to update and I really appreciate it, thanks again to all of you!

 

-Met