An Early Morning Run

It was a Saturday, but Charlie was up at five anyway, noisily finishing with her unpacking before sidling off to the bathroom. Amazingly, her roommate had slept through her humming and drawer slamming, and she brushed her teeth with a vague air of disappointment. Although she'd only met her roommate yesterday, she absolutely hated the girl, and she was already trying to get her to request a room change. The girl had introduced herself as Mandy and immediately offered in a bright, sunny voice to give Charlie makeup tips. Every inch of wall space on her side of the room was plastered with posters of teen idols Charlie had never heard of, and garish magazines and tubes of lipstick littered the floor. Charlie had bared her teeth at Mandy in an evil smile and said she was quite alright, thank-you-very-much, mind already racing with ways to make the girl's life miserable. She made as much noise as possible as she dropped her toothbrush back at her room, zipped a green jacket over an off-white A-shirt, knotted a crimson hairband securely around her forehead, and slammed the door pointedly on her way out for good measure.

Her run took her through the courtyard and by the lake, zig-zagging through the quieter streets in town. She wasn't sure when her course changed to point towards the beach, but that was where she ended up an hour and a half later, panting heavily and swabbing ineffectively at the perspiration on her forehead with a bare forearm. Her jacket had ended up tied around her waist before she'd been running for twenty minutes, and the sweat dried refreshingly cool in the morning breeze. She shucked off scuffed trainers and dirty socks as soon as she'd caught her wind, digging her toes into the cool sand appreciatively. She'd never been to a proper beach before, although she'd been to the ocean a few times during the more affordable off-seasons. It had been all pointed rocks and freezing water, and although she'd spent hours climbing around the slippery, craggy boulders and marveling at dead things left stranded there by the tide, Charlie didn't consider it a real beach if the water was too cold to swim in and the coastline was covered in rocks instead of sand.

She dropped backwards on the sand, arms outstretched, knees bent, feet buried up to the ankles. She'd go for a swim, she decided. Running shorts were close enough to boardies for her, and there was no one around to comment or jeer if her shirt got wet. She could always wear her jacket if it wasn't dry by the time she headed back, anyway. She rubbed her closed eyes with thin fingers, yawning widely. The sun was beginning to warm the sand around her, and her long run had left her feeling lazy. She'd go for a swim eventually; right now she was content to lie on the beach and dry off.

Charlie dropped an arm over her eyes, trying to shield them from the sun. She'd... Take a nap. For a few minutes. And then she'd take a quick swim, to wash away the sweat. And then she'd run back to the Academy and get sweaty again. Her thoughts trailed off, and she yawned again. But first - a nap.

She hadn't been asleep for more then a few minutes when a sharp pain in her leg and a piercing shriek jolted her awake. She jumped up, glancing around furiously for the cause of the two annoyances. "Okay, who the f-" She spotted the small boy huddled on the ground and cut herself off, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. Sand clung to her skin, stuck in place by almost dry sweat, but she didn't care enough to brush it off. "What, do I look like a rock or something? Can't you look where you're going? What are you, five?" She half-yelled, half-taunted, eyes narrowing in annoyance. He was holding his forehead like he'd cracked his skull. Well, good. Maybe it'd teach him to look where he was going next time.

She threw her arms up in exasperation, fixing the boy with an quizzical frown. "Are you mental? O' course I'm not gonna hit you! This might be hard to believe, but I'm not in the practice of hittin' preschoolers." He looked terrified, as if he was about to wet himself. You'd think someone as clumsy as he was would have gotten used to being yelled at by now. Or maybe she was just that frightening? Charlie wasn't one to bully five year olds, but the thought still brought a smile to her face.

"Anyway, why would I want to hit you? You've taken care of that well enough without my help, smacking your head like that. Serves you right, if you ask me." The boy was doing his best impression of a wounded puppy, fear and bewilderment shining in his eyes - as if he couldn't understand why she was annoyed. She shook her head irritably, dropping back down to the Charlie-shaped impression in the sand. "Alright, I'm done. Go cry to your mum about the scary lady, yeah?"

She had thrown her arm over her eyes again, but when he began to tell her about his parents beating him she lifted it reluctantly and sat up. She disliked the boy immensely, hated his sniveling and cowering, but that wasn't something she could just ignore. "You tell everyone you meet how you're being beaten?" She couldn't resist asking nastily before sighing reluctantly and demanding: "How come you haven't called child services or run away or something? If you do run around whinging to everyone about it, how come no one else has for you? Go to the police or somethin', don't just sit around complaining." She dropped back to the ground, closing her eyes against the sunlight and promptly ignoring the boy again.

He didn't go away, though. There were a few minutes of silence, and then he piped up again, this time asking her name in his soft, childish squeak of a voice. She sighed pointedly, but answered: "I'm Charlie. Don't call me 'miss' again, or I might think twice about my 'no bullying five-year-olds' rule."

"You don't have to lie, but you could try being a bit less straightforward. Puts people off, telling them all your deepest secrets before you even know their names." She shook her head, adding somewhat reluctantly, "good on you for getting out of there, though. Maybe your brain's not entirely empty, after all." She fixed him with a supercilious gaze, as if she doubted it.

"How wonderful," She intoned boredly, digging her toes back into the sand. "You've got a new mum. I'm so happy for you." She hadn't noticed his bandages - until a few minutes ago, she had been trying to go back to sleep - but now she eyed his torso with vague, lazy interest, as if she could see though the shirt to the wounds underneath. "Why don't cry to her, then," She tried hopefully, although she had a feeling it wouldn't work. He appeared to want to stick around.

"Why should I tell you?" She asked, sticking out her chin obstinately. "It's supposed to be secret, isn't it? Unless you've got a power of your own. Super-Clumsiness, maybe?" She teased, grinning evilly.