Walkin' on broken glass

[moonshadows]

“Walkin’ on, walkin on, broken glaaaass…”

“What are you singing?”

Tessa grinned, even though Illidan couldn’t see it. “Hey, you! You’re late today.” One hand felt his out while the other slipped into her lunchbag. “Turkey breast with lettuce, pepper jack, and Dijon mustard today. In a pita, of course.”

Illidan’s eyebrows shot up. “Sounds a bit heavy for you.”

“That’s why I’m only having half. I tried convincing my mom to put less turkey on one, or just the cheese and lettuce, but she didn’t want me to mix up which was which.” Instead of putting a pita in his hand, she just put his hand on the container and took her lone half.

“No. This has to stop. I can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

He shoved the container back at her. “I can’t keep accepting your mom’s charity. I’m not so pathetic that I need to mooch off of you every day.”

“How is it mooching if my mom made it just for you?”

“That’s worse,” he muttered.

Tessa made a sound of frustration. “Hey, I’m trying to be friendly here and you’re insulting my mom.”

“Wha-? I didn’t-”

“You’re saying that my mom’s cooking isn’t good enough for you to eat. You’re refusing her hospitality and mine.”

Illidan blinked. The tiny girl actually sounded upset. “Hey, I didn’t mean it that way. I just…”

“You’re just wallowing in your own misery. I get it.” Tessa bit her sandwich vengefully. “I’m just trying to be a friend, so I’ll swear to everyone who asks that you hated every bite of that sandwich, or you can imagine the sandwich as your hopes and dreams and enact their slow destruction or whatever you want, but if you don’t eat it, my mom’s going to think you don’t like me anymore or think you don’t like her cooking, and then I’ll have to listen to her go on and on about it and I really don’t want to have to listen to that, so will you please just eat it?”

Cowed, Illidan pulled the container closer and took a bite of a random pita half. “It’s good,” he mumbled, surprised by how good it tasted. He still felt guilty about eating her food, but dry Cheerios in the morning really wasn’t cutting it and microwaved hot dogs didn’t have much flavor.

Tessa leaned her head against his shoulder briefly. “I know it’s hard,” she said quietly. “I was rough on my mom for a while when my blind spot got big enough that I couldn’t do things for myself anymore. But letting someone help you doesn’t have to mean that you’re accepting charity, or that they’re only doing it out of pity. Sometimes it means that there’s people who like you, and who would be doing nice things for you even if you didn’t need any help.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice equally quiet. “I guess I’m taking things out on you. It’s just…I’m not used to people who don’t look at me and see someone to pity, and I’m not used to not being able to do things for myself.”

Tessa nudged his arm with her head. “It’s okay. You’re my friend; I want to help you. You can be upset and grumpy and emo and wallow in your own misery, just don’t turn down my mom’s cooking, okay?”

Illidan finished one pita half and bit into a second one with satisfaction. “Don’t see why you want me for a friend, though.”

The blind girl fumbled the vegetables open. “You and Tyrande are my only friends here so far. I don’t exactly want to scare either one of you away.”

“I’m more likely to chase you away,” Illidan said darkly.

Tessa made a rude noise. “Fat chance of that, buster. You’re stuck with me.”

He was surprised by how comforting that was. “So what were you singing?” he asked, shamelessly changing the subject.

“Oh, something I heard on the radio. Walkin’ on, walkin’ on, broken gla-ass.”

“Oh, that one.”

“Ooh, you know it?”

Illiidan scowled. “Stupid cheerful piece of crap making pain into nothing more than a catchy tune.”

“I disagree,” the Thai girl said firmly, decapitating a piece of broccoli as if proving her point. “If you listen to the nuances of her voice, the way she’s singing, you can feel her pain. She’s not making light of it, she’s…at peace with it. She’s accepted it, and she’s turned it into something beautiful to show the world so that other people can see her pain, too.”

“I hadn’t thought about it that way,” Illidan said, surprised. “I’ll have to listen to it again.”

“A lot of people don’t understand that pain can be beautiful.”

The blind boy grinned lopsidedly. “You haven’t read my poetry.”

“Only because you haven’t let me.”

“True. In any case, what I meant was that I hadn’t considered that application to that particular song.” He grimaced. “Probably because I’m not at peace with my own pain yet.”

“I’m livin’ in an empty room, with all the windows smashed,” Tessa sang, her voice high and clear. “’N I’ve got so little left to lose that it feels just-a like I’m-a walkin’ on broken gla-ass!”

“You’re not as cheerful as I thought you were,” Illidan said wonderingly. “You’re just at peace with your pain.”

“Life goes on whether or not you go with it,” she replied. “O-bla-di, o-bla-da, life goes on, yeah! La-de-da-de life goes on.”

“Beatles? Really? You like the Beatles?”

“Well…It’s…it’s like popcorn. It’s not the best food ever, but sometimes it just hits the spot.”

“I don’t really like popcorn,” Illidan said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“I’ve never had it,” Tessa confessed. “I just figured it was one of those things that Americans all ate, and that you probably wouldn’t know what I meant if I said it was like Mama Tom Yum.”

“You’re absolutely right. I have no idea what that is.”

“It’s instant noodle soup,” the Thai girl explained, clearly enthusiastic. “Lemongrass and chili and shrimp paste, so it’s hot and sour and spicy and oh, it’s so good.”

Despite himself, Illidan was intrigued. “That does sound good.”

“You should come over sometime. I’ll get my mom to make it for us.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t…”

“Why not? My mom would love to have you over.”

Illidan flinched. “Stop. I can’t, okay?”

“Okay,” Tessa said calmly. One hand found his and squeezed lightly.

======================================================

“Hey. Tessa, is it?”

Tessa tilted her head and swiveled it, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl talking to her. She finished washing her hands and turned the water off. “Yes?”

“I’m Cyndi, head of the cheerleader’s squad. You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“This is my first week,” the Thai girl said cautiously.

“Yeah, and I’ve seen you talk to Miss Goody-Goody Tyrande. Don’t get me wrong, she does a great job with the Student Council, but she doesn’t know how to really party. You’re cute and exotic, you could be really popular with the right introductions. You’re wasting your time with Illidan; he can’t appreciate your looks. I’m surprised he hasn’t bitten your head off, actually.”

Tessa kept her face blank. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he was a real looker before the accident. Him and his brother. Charmers, both of them. But whatever happened last summer, Malfurion turned into some psycho PETA-freak or something and Illidan won’t give anyone the time of day.” Cyndi sniffed. “Whatever. Anyway, you’re too good to be wasting your time on the likes of them. My dad’s going out of town this weekend and I’m gonna be holding a huge party – all the cool kids are invited. Would be a great way to get the kind of reputation you want. What do you say?”

“I can get the reputation I want?”

“That’s right!”

“You know what kind of reputation I really want?” Tessa asked innocently.

“Tell me,” Cyndi purred.

“I want a reputation for being the crazy blind Thai chick who’ll tackle your kneecaps for insulting her friends,” she said as sweetly as she could. “And Illidan happens to be one of those friends. So we can do this one of two ways. You walk out of here and don’t say a word about this to anyone, and I don’t tell Tyrande about your huge party, or you play catty games and I’ll make sure your pretty face – it is pretty, isn’t it? I can’t tell – gets so messed up that you have to wear a mask. Your choice.”

“Ugh, why did I even bother wasting my time on an immature foreign brat?”

Cyndi pushed roughly past Tessa, nearly knocking her over. The blind girl grinned and threw herself at the cheerleader, knocking them both into the door. Cyndi threw her off, sending her reeling against the nearest stall. With a wicked grin, Tessa deliberately smacked the back of her head against the metal frame and promptly burst into tears. Wailing and clutching at the back of her head, she charged towards the door and fell into the hall as Cyndi sidestepped. There she lay, crying, effectively trapping the other girl in the bathroom while drawing the attention of several passing students and a teacher. All Cyndi’s protestations that Tessa had flung herself into the stall frame and out the bathroom door looked like pathetic lies, and she knew it. Eventually, a student stepped forward to escort Tessa to the nurse while Cyndi was sent back to her class with a threat of detention if she said another word.

====================================================

“…so the nurse said she wouldn’t call my mom as long as I felt okay to return to classes.”

“You’re crazy.”

Tessa grinned and nudged Illidan’s shoulder with her head. “That’s the reputation I want.”

For a moment, Illidan nearly put his arm around her the way he had with other girls. “You really picked a fight with Cyndi because she said I was a waste of your time?”

“Yep. She sounded like she had something specific against you.”

“Hah. She’s probably upset I never went out with her.”

The blind girl kicked her feet for a minute. “Is she pretty?”

“I have no idea,” Illidan said in surprise. “I mean…she was pretty last I saw her. I guess. She had nice tits-” suddenly, he remembered he was talking to a girl, one who might be sweet on him. “-but if all I wanted in a girl was boobs, Tyrande would have disowned me years ago.”

The silence stretched, and he worried that he’d somehow hurt or offended the tiny girl.

“Tessa?” Hesitantly, he felt for one of her hands and squeezed it lightly.

“Hmm?” She squeezed back. “Sorry, just thinking what a dumb bimbo she is to let a little thing like blindness stop her from appreciating you.” She nudged his shoulder with her head again. “More for me, huh?” she said in a lighter, joking tone.

Unsettled by the reminder, Illidan reclaimed his hand and tried to deflect the conversation. “I lashed out at any girl who hit on me,” he said sourly. “I have no intentions of being some kind of status symbol or pity fuck.”

“That just means you have good taste,” she chirped.

“…what?”

“Well, you haven’t lashed out at me yet.”

“No. Stop.” Eyes closed behind the black cloth binding them, Illidan took deep breaths and tried to calm his racing pulse. The fact that she persisted in hitting on him, combined with her completely dropping the subject when he said ‘stop’, made him feel very off-balance and at the same time, secure. “If I ever go too far,” he said quietly, “you tell me to stop, okay?”

Her hand brushed his forearm, fingers trailing until they found his, then curled gently around them. “Okay.”

“I…you and Tyrande are my only friends. I don’t want to drive either of you away.”

Shouldernudge. “I told you, buster: you’re stuck with me. Be as grumpy and emo as you want; I’m not going away.”

Choking on gratitude, he squeezed her fingers gently.