Chapter 7
---Firkle's pov---
After a moment of standing there awkwardly with even more awkward silence, I decided I'd rather be a home in my empty house, than here.
My parents are almost never home, work usually. I'm pretty sure they didn't want a kid, so they just hope I can raise myself.
I can so I don't care that they aren't ever there.
I sigh and turn on my heel before I continue walking home.
I thought for sure he was going to say something in response, but no. Of course not.
Why would he actually come up with a rebuttal?
He's clearly doing this because of pity. Why else would he even try talking to me? I don't have anything that I can give him.
I'm pretty sure he doesn't want any sort of favor... I mean, he could. But I don't think so.
"So, you want to know why I keep talking to you?" Ike asks like he's trying to understand.
I nod. He nods then, "Well, uh... I'm not too sure."
It's definitely pity.
I don't do anything, then I roll my eyes and nod.
"It's not pity!" Ike says, as if he knows what I'm thinking. I glance over at him, one eyebrow raised.
"I don't know," he says lowering his head, "I just thought maybe we could be friends or something."
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