Snippet #2291523

Gawain pushed firmly on the AV cart, straining against the resistance of the wheels to the slight rise in the floor where the door way to the parking lot was. The door he'd propped up with a rock to keep it out of his way, but the small metal ledge that was possibly just a centimeter above the linoleum floors was proving to be more than enough of a challenge for the cart. He strained one last time, leaning on his side of the cart to try and lift the front wheels over the bump. The cart sped past the area, and would have escaped him had the bump not slowed the back wheels enough to keep his force from following through. Gawain released a small breath of relief, glad that the task had been completed without needing to call someone a little stronger for assistance. After all, having absolutely zero muscle did him no favors with doing anything, even if it was just moving some old computer parts outside to put them in the trunk of his piece-o-crap car.

He pushed the cart down the uneven pavement of the school parking lot, having to struggle more in some areas than others, but essentially having not too much of an issue bringing the equipment the rest of the way to his car. He'd gotten some plans for hacking some pretty heavy duty files, and at the very least, the extra motherboards and backup software from the computers he'd snatched would keep him from slowing down when the firewalls tried to crash his system. It was hardly legal, of course. He was digging into a program that was none of his business, but it was like a bad habit. There wasn't much he could really do, and perhaps it was just that the idea of doing this kind of thing gave him a rush, a thrill. Certainly no reason to stop the only thing he was good at.

Stopping the cart beside his car, he quickly unlocked the trunk and popped it open, leaning halfway inside of the vehicle's backside as he pushed around the disheveled items that lay back there. A couple car essentials he didn't know how to use, an old blanket he used to cover up some of his equipment if he didn't want people to see, some loose change (mostly in pennies) that he simply didn't want to pick up, and a couple wires he still hadn't returned to the AV club after borrowing them and realizing he'd no use for them. Gawain took a deep breath, leaning against the bumper of the car and rubbing his sore wrist. The skin at which, had turned mostly a deep red colour, though at the center boasted a blackish bruise. He'd been grabbed in the locker room again - such an attack he didn't normally repeat to anyone, which tended to be easier since none of his friends shared the class with him - and upon trying to twist out of the much stronger boy's grip, received what seemed to be a combination of an Indian Sunburn and a bruise at the same time. It throbbed with the sting of a sprain, and though he planned to ice it when he got home, he'd all but forgotten about it since it happened, doing nothing but feeling the pain. He hardly concerned himself about it. It was normal, after all.

He pulled his brown Skullcandy Aviators headphones down, letting them sit around his neck to allow him to keep an ear out. Most everyone was gone from the school grounds, aside from club members or sports teams, or maybe just a few students with cars that were taking their sweet time pulling off campus. But even still, he couldn't be too careful, couldn't stop being on edge. Sudden, out-of-the-blue events always tended to be his downfall in the past, and being a little paranoid had just become normal. Normal enough to mask it, anyway. He could look as relaxed as he wanted, but it didn't mean relaxed was how he felt. The soft noise from his headphones mulled with the air, difficult to hear unless you were within a few feet, giving off the tune of Radioactive by Imagine Dragons.

Gawain took a deep breath, rolling up the sleeves of his pale blue plaid flannel over shirt a little higher till they were up above his elbows, and focused his attention back on all his gear. Shit was this going to be heavy. He'd managed to get them onto the cart by pushing them on, but there was going to have to be some lifting to get them into his car. Propping one side of the first piece, he got as good a grip as he could with his bony little fingers, straining with hands shaking slightly as he lifted the machinery upward about half an inch from the cart, leaning it against his chest, and huffing his was over to his trunk to drop it in, just barely managing the task without the drop completely wrecking the equipment. He breathed a sigh of relief, trying to be sure he got in enough air. Looking back over at the cart, however, his hear sank just a little. He still had to go through the strenuous process two more times.

Letting out a small moan at the task, he dug his fingers underneath the second one, biting down on his lower lip as he lifted and attempted the short trip from the cart to his car again. His grip was even shakier this time, and before the task could be completed, the heavy object tumbled from his weak grip to hit the ground with a loud crack of the plastic outer shell, bits and pieces of it scattering and breaking off.

"Fuck," He muttered, panting from the strain on his body and how the object's dropping had startled him. He found himself only more on edge, shoulders hunched and body tense, even as he crouched down and started gathering up as much of the broken bits as he could in one hand, dropping them on the lower level of the AV cart when he'd grabbed all that he could.

The damage wasn't too bad, only the outside had suffered, but dropping something was never a pleasurable experience. He tried to tell himself that the parts from it were still going to be usable, but one could never be totally sure. Who could say how much the inside had gotten jumbled up from the blow? It might not show, but taking it apart later might reveal it's uselessness. Honestly the whole deal was just making him even more depressed than the school day at large had done. It wasn't as if he'd made it through the day with only the wound to his wrist, after all, though the injury definitely wasn't helping with the task he was trying to perform. If it hadn't already been sprained, it probably would be soon. He tried not to dwell on the idea. Thinking about the pain was just what would make it hurt more, and the last thing he wanted to do was show off that he was hurting.

I'm fine, he told himself. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.

Grabbing onto the object once again, he propped it up sideways, trying to make the distance upward a little less, before pulling up on it suddenly. The shock the action sent through the injured hand was almost instantaneous, and though he didn't shout out, or moan, or wince, he retracted the hand and held it in close, putting the other hand over the injury as if to protect it and let the computer drop back down to the ground with another crack following its landing.

Bad idea.

Terrible idea.

I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.

He dropped his arms back to his sides, shaking out the injured wrist as if the action could wave away the pain as he walked in a small anxious circle to try and relieve some of his tenseness. He could go off looking for someone a little stronger and a little less injured to help him out with moving the objects? No, no, he wasn't about to beg someone for help. That only made him look even more pathetic. But Gawain certainly wasn't about to be getting the other two computers into his car, or even back onto the AV cart the rate he was going. He tried to weigh his options, leaning against the bumper of his car again as he pulled his sleeves down again, trying to cover up the injury that way, but knowing any movement would make it visible once again. He could hide the injury, simply play it off that he was too weak to lift it. Perhaps just being generally thought of as weak was a little more dignified that showing that he'd received yet another wound for not being able to defend himself. Or perhaps he could say the injury was from falling, a simple act of clumsiness, and that was why he required the assistance. Neither option really tickled his fancy. He almost just wanted to leave everything where it was and drive away, forget about the whole thing. The dropped computer was useless by now anyway, wasn't it? But he very well knew that he'd pay for the irresponsibility later on. There was just no good way to handle it, really.

Sighing, he got up from his place and shut the trunk, being sure to lock it before beginning a walk away from the scene. If someone grabbed the stuff, then fine, they could have it. If they didn't, then Gawain would attempt the task again with a fresh start. But he needed a break, at the very least. Even if it wasn't to look for help necessarily. If he came across it, he figured asking wouldn't hurt, despite how he absolutely hated the idea. He knew he was absolutely useless, but sometimes a guy just likes to act like he isn't at the very least.

He cornered the school to the back of the building where most of the fields and track were. It was a much busier area at this point in the day, even for people who might not be interested in the sports so much as they were to be smoking underneath the bleachers. Gawain sort of just edged the school, trying not to draw attention to himself and only thinking that looking for help from one of his friends was going to look so pathetic that it wasn't even worth it. He simply played it off like the whole point was just to take a walk, to take a look at things, whatever. Forget the help. He'd do a lap around the school and try again himself. If he still was having trouble, he'd just forget about it. Leave the broken computer on the pavement and push the AV cart inside. He'd go home and ice his wrist for a while, hang around the house and try not to be bothered with anything.

As the song switched from Radioactive to Oblivion by Grimes, he picked up his headphones, placing them back over his ears to block out the number of people in the area. That was the nice thing about headphones, they were a little sign to everyone that someone really just wasn't interested in conversation. The bad thing about them was they left Gawain in particular a little more vulnerable to being snuck up on. He took one more glance around before turning back instead of completing the lap, heading directly back for the parking lot. He was in no mood for seeking assistance. He just felt generally too crappy for that. Maybe someone would come along and notice that he'd had trouble, but he doubted so. Things almost never work out the way one wants them to, after all.

But he could handle it on his own, he told himself. All his wrist needed was a break. He could get the rest of the stuff in his car, no problem. He was absolutely. Positively. One hundred percent. fine.

He repeated the statement again and again in his mind.

If he thought it enough, maybe it would make it a little less untrue.