#jermonty

When you throw a yo-yo, it hits the ground and bounces back up at you. You wrap it around your finger, before letting it go and drop. Sure, it only takes a second for it to bounce back up, but those few seconds can feel like hours to some. The feeling of watching it drop down, the unknown feeling of it unwinding and having a chance of not coming back up. It does most the time, unless its been damaged. Then it'll either take longer to come back up, or might not at all. Yo yo's are weird, huh? You never know what it is about those things, yet someone always loves them.

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A day after his dad died, Jerome was still forced to go to another kindergarten. It was stupid, why was he forced to come back to another kindergarten after his dad had died!? It was bullshit! As much as Jerome wanted to yell that at a teacher and run out to his mom, crying, he just sucked it up as to not look like a wuss..

But it was hard not to look like a wuss when tears just leaked out his eyes. Grief? Sadness? Anger? Hatred? Jerome could hardly decipher what emotion forced the salty tears to pour out his eyes. All he could do was keep rubbing them, over and over, until his eyes got into a painful red. The ache of his fingers pushing into his eyes only causing more agony to drip from his face.

God, he knew how stupid he looked. Buggs snickered everytime he looked back at him, Cindy stared at him with distaste, the new kids talked about him behind his back... Ugh! Jerome was such a loser in this new school. Crying was not cool, as it turned out. Nothing was cool anymore! It was all so uncoo-

"Ay, Jerome." Another boy... "stood" above Jerome, his voice being a mixture of concerned and bothered. The person "stood" before him was merely a blur, a fuzz of green and orange. The only discernable thing being that there was a figure, an, albeit, wide one, from what Jerome could make out through his fountain of tears.

"What do you want!?" Jerome bit out, twisting his head to the other side, unwanting to look at who ever was in front of him. His voice wouldn't sounded angrier, if it wasn't for the feeling of his throat being closed up from all the warmth draining from his eyes. Instead, his voice was merely an sob-like growl. More or less, lashing out at the person ahead.

Monty kept his eyes locked onto Jerome, fighting back the urge to scoff at his reaction. It was just the grief talking, not Jerome. His voice was hesitant as he reached into his pocket, pulling out something he threw down to Jerome. "Heard what happened to your dad."

With a quiet silence, Jerome lifted his head from between his knees and wiped the tears from the face. Below the feet pedals of the wheel chair in front of him, there was a yellow, light up yo-yo. He reached out his hand and snatched the toy into his hand, sniffling. "Whatever.. Hold on." Jerome looked up from his yo-yo, finally able to make out the figure in front of him. "Why are you in a wheelchair!?"

Monty recoiled at the question before darting around at the other people stood around them and taking a deep breath, his chest raising and lowering before he began to speak. "Its that janitor. Couldn't spell a sign right so he figured it was best for me to become paralyzed."

Jerome glanced over at the old man, stood grumbling with his mop and then back to the ginger boy in front of him. "Seems like something he'd do. That old sack of shit still has my lazer pen!" His saddened expression shifted into an anger, balling up both his fists whilst his glare stayed applied to the janitor.

Monty clicked his fingers and reached into his pocket, handing Jerome a thin stick of metal with a red dot at the end. "I was planning to sell it. Didn't know it was yours." He smirked, holding it closer to him. "Again, on the house."

Jerome took the lazer from the kid's freckled hand, pocketing it. A light pink hue brushed across his cheeks, darkening his face before he glanced to the side and got rid of the burning feeling on his face. "Thanks."

"Don't keep expecting everythin' for free. I need to pay for my medical bills one way or 'nother. Got it?"