Heading For Nowhere {thirty day writing challenge} [unfinished]

iv

day four: one shot [about the quote]

dedicated to ivey bc she's a slag and still isn't in school. ur so dope ivey ur the kim jong illest <3

"unless." - the lorax, dr. seuss 

He wasn't like the others. He was brash and bold, but somewhere deep inside, deep, deep, buried away somewhere, he was still that shy and self concious child. It came out at times, when he tried to get good grades, when he tried to be the best at everything.

And when it showed, he covered it by pushing attention to someone else. Look at that kid! He's such a wannabe, it's pathetic.

The words would tumble out of his mouth before he could restrain himself. His parents had taught to walk around in someone else's skin, to see life from their point of view, but no one had ever done that for him, had they? They had immediately judged him by his stellar IQ and straight-A's, but no one realized how hard he worked and how much he failed in reality.

So what was the point of doing it for someone else?

He was in third period, and the thoughts were swirling around his mind again, clouding it from learning about - what was it this time? derivatives? - calculus. His head was bent and his mind was shattered, but he still focused on that work, that next problem that would bring him satisfaction through solution.

What's the answer, Bryce?

He didn't want to look up. They'd see his sharp, angular face contorted with anger and ask why. But he didn't want to explain. Not explaining was harmful, but explaining was downright deadly.

A smirk pasted itself across his features, and he glanced at the board subtly, then back at the teacher. 72xy to the fourth power. His teacher grinned. Correct.

Bryce, they called after math class, are those tears in your eyes? One particular witty one added, Math isn't that bad!

He laughed them off, willing the drops of water to retract into his tear ducts.

Hell no. Who do you think I am, Big and Tall Jane over here? What do you do, girl? Eat five cartons of Ben & Jerry's with your twenty cats?

His friends chuckled appreciatively, looking at the tall, pudgy girl. Her name was Jane, that was a definite. Bryce thought he recognized her from somewhere - elementary school maybe? She was trying to walk around their cluster in the hallway, but was having trouble doing it subtly.

Bryce shrugged off that feeling of recognition. He was just glad he was saved from explaining.

-- -  -   -    -     -      -       -        -       -      -     -    -   -  - --

His mom was dressed in black, for whatever reason. Why, Mom? he asked when she had tried holding up her black scarf with her hat and asking if it was too warm outside for that.

She dropped the scarf over the full length mirror and sat down on the easy chair. Bryce, honey, you didn't hear? Your wonderful friend from elementary school - what was her name? I think it was Jane - she -

A silent tear trekked down his mother's cheek.

Well, she was found. Found, - deep breath - hanging. In her bedroom. And her parents invited us to her serv--funeral.

He nodded, fighting down a strangled noise in his throat and willing the uncomfortable tightening in his chest to disappear. He changed into black, into a black suit, and he and his mother drove out to the funeral home.

Her parents were torn apart. The mother had tears continuously streaming down her face, and the father was in shock as well, not even bothering to comfort his wife and instead staring blankly ahead at the wall.

They're showing the body now, Bryce. Do you have anything you'd like to say?

He shook his head.

If I hadn't, he thought.

The anger returned.

If I was nice to her, he thought.

He didn't want to explain.

--

yeah not the best oops i'm a day late hope you enjoyed

-alyssa-