The Children of Iron and Frost
“Is it really true you’re the playing boy’s son? What does that even mean?”
“I heard my Mom and Dad say they feel bad for you because your dad can’t function on no drinks.”
“Are you fake like him too?”
The rumours and whispers had surrounded the boy most of the morning, but he’d stayed quiet, trying his best to ignore them, until the annoyance finally built up enough. It was when his teacher had left the classroom to get some extra art supplies, and the boy at the table beside him tapped on his shoulder.
“Why did that red headed lady drop you off, she’s not your Mom is she?”
“No, not technically...” Grayson agreed, voice soft.
“What do you mean not technetly?” The boy asked, “Why doesn’t your real mom drop you off?”
“I-I don’t know her.” The genius’ son replied sheepishly.
“What do you mean you don’t know her?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it...” Grayson mumbled, looking down at his paper as he put his crayon on his desk.
“You’re kind of weird.” The other boy decided blatantly, taking Grayson’s paper out from under his hand. “What’s this?”
“Give it back.”
“What is it?”
“You wouldn’t get it, and it’s mine, give it back!” Grayson stood up and tried to reach for the paper, but the boy turned around and stepped away from his desk. Grayson followed after, continuing to grasp for the paper.
“I’m just looking at it!” Another kid stepped in behind the other boy, and snatched the drawing from his hands,
“Ooooh what’s this? It looks weird!”
“Well that makes sense, he’s weird so he draws weird things.”
Grayson crossed his arms. “Stop it! That’s not nice!” He protested, lip trembling.
“Weird like his Dad!” One of the boy’s other friends agreed, ignoring Grayson’s protests. Where was the teacher? Would she be back soon? The paper was being pulled at and tugged at by the three kids, each trying to get a look at the odd sketches, each laughing every time the paper was pulled from Grayson’s reach. Soon a tear had made it’s way down the sheet, and Grayson tried to push one of the boy’s hands off of it, which resulted in the boy pushing his shoulder, and Grayson, in the moment, pushing him back. “Let it go!” The boy he’d pushed stumbled back a little, but his friend pushed Grayson in return, things escalating quickly, the paper sailed to the floor, and was stepped on by one of the kids’ blue rubber boots.
