Too Shy?

The New Kid

Kyle's POV
I'm moving to a strange school. Its a praivate school. One without any security, only supervision during class, no cameras, no homework, you stay at school on seasonal breaks, and you stayed at school overnight unless it was the weekend. We're going to live in Montana. That school isn't the best if your bullied a lot. There isn't a specific time that you have to go to sleep either. So being the reckless virgin desperate 11th grader I am, I'll out all night sometimes. "Mom? Are we there yet?" I giggled, being a little childish. "No Kyle, and please don't annoy me." My mom frowned. "Dad? Are we there yet?" I couldn't help but laugh. "Damn it Kyle! Shut the fuck up!" He shouted. "Arden! Stop it! He's just having harmless fun!" My mom began to argue with my dad. I covered my mouth and looked in between them confused. I finally managed to block them out after a while. "Kyle! We are here!" My brother shouted in excitement. I glared at him as my parents got out of the car. "Shut up faggot." I opened the door and stepped out. I looked at the house and rolled my eyes. We had already moved all of our stuff here except a little bit of clothes and some other stuff. Like my brothers "pride" flag, and my knives. I have a lot of pocket knives and katanas. Anything that falls in the knife or sword relation I am interested in. But during the move I had to hide my razor blades and stuff. My mom isn't okay with me cutting myself. She's really overprotective and obnoxious. Nobody has ever known that I cut myself, and nobody expects the fuck boy to be insecure. I always feel like my muscles are unattractive, or my hair looks nerdy, or people think I'm gay, or my friends don't really like me. I always wear braclets, long gloves, or long sleeves so nobody notices. I carried the only box that belonged to me inside and set it down in my room upstairs. "Kyle! Hurry up! We need to get you to school!" My dad shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "Okay!" I started getting dressed. My step brother clearly had a crush on me. And my step dad was clearly a better person than my mom. I dressed in a solid white shirt, jeans, a black leather jacket, my Jordans, and my sunglasses. I fixed my hair and spiked it up in the front. I grabbed my solid black Nike backpack and ran downstairs. "I'm ready to go dad." I said, standing beside the front door. I had no information on who my roommate was, what room I was sleeping in, or what dorm I was in. My dad handed me a suitcase full of clothes, a bottle of hair gel, tooth paste, a tooth brush, shampoo, conditioner, Cologne, and deodorant. I picked it up and put it in the backseat with my brother. I watched as my dad started the car. I looked into the backseat at my brother. He stared back, and I found myself locked in his gaze. "Kyle, why don't you sit in the back, with your brother?" My dad grinned. I rolled my eyes and got out of the car. I opened the back door and moved my luggage into the front seat. I sat down beside my brother and looked at him again. I looked away as soon as he glared in my direction. I was secretly gay, but I acted homophobic so I didn't have to deal with homophobia. I looked back over to my brother, who was locked in a daze, staring at me. He looked devastated, it was hilarious. I looked up at my dad who seemed focused on the road so he clearly hadn't noticed us. I flipped him off and glared out the window. I looked back at my disappointed stepbrother. I tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. He looked up at me as the car stopped. I raised an eyebrow at him and smiled as I got out of the car. I got my luggage and helped him with his. I closed the car door and ran inside the school. It was summer, so we only had field trips, programs, and dorm time. I pulled up the handle on my luggage and kicked one of the wheels so it would stop squeaking. I continued walking and stopped at a desk. "Kyle Blankenship and Carson Blankenship." I said to the lady at the desk. "Kyle you are in room 309 dorm 5, Carson room 228 dorm 4." She didn't even look up at us. I was glad Carson had only kissed me on the cheek. He was my step brother for the love of god. I grabbed my luggage handle and exited the building. I mad my way to the fifth dorm and went inside. I walked up 2 flights of stairs to the 3rd floor carrying my heavy luggage and started checking the halls for my room. On the very end of the hallway I found room 309. I opened the door slowly and walked in. I set my luggage by the bed that was not set. I didn't want to look over at my room mate for some reason. I set my bed with my black sheets and pillows. Fore some reason I had brought 2 pillows and 2 black blankets. I got out my phone and checked my texts, I put it back in my pocket and continued setting my stuff up. I put the small decorated box that held my razor blades on my bedside table along with a picture of my family. I noticed out of the corner of my eye emo posters on the wall. This made me feel less embarrassed about covering my side of the room with band posters. The bag my dad had packed qwas stuff I needed, but I had packed my own. I got out a few MCR, P!ATD, and Green Day posters. I hung them up and sat down on my bed. I didn't have that many, I had 1 MCR, 2 P!ATD, and 5 Green Day posters. I'm a bit obsessed with Green Day. I know ever single one of their songs in all 24 albums and every single word to them. I walked to the door and took my shoes off. I laid them against the wall and layer down on my bed. I slowly looked over to my roommate. He was an emo boy, with black hair, light blue eyes, smooth pale skin, and scars on his arms. I had naturally dark black hair, green eyes, and smooth somewhat tanned skin. He was extremely skinny, and he wore a tight black MCR shirt, faded black jeans, and a black beanie. He stared at me, a shy expression on his face. I stood up and took a few steps towards him. "Hi, I'm Kyle." I held my hand out. "I'm Jayden." He said, his voice soft and barely audible. He shook my hand and looked down at the floor. I took off my leather jacket and hung bit on the wall. That's when I realized I had no bracelets or long gloves to covewr my scars. Problem was I had cut just before we left for our new home. So I had fresh scars. I sat down on my bed and stared down at my wrists, still somewhat bloody. "Oh my god. You're hurt." He looked up at me with wide eyes. "Just ignore it, I'm fine." I muttered. Next thing I knew he had alcohol pads sitting beside me on my bed. He gently grabbed my arm and pulled it towards him. He wiped the blood off with a pad, causing me to wince in pain, and made sure he had cleaned it good by running the pad over every open scar. He gently did the same for my other arm and thrwew the pads in the trash. He put the other unused ones away and sat down beside me again. "Don't do that to yourself Kyle." He held the back off my wrist and stared into my eyes. "Speak for yourself. Emo fucker." I frowned. He looked at me, sadness in his eyes, then walked back over to his bed. "I-I'm sorry. I'm just a bully. I can't control myself. I'm an asshole. And no matter how hard I try I just can't become a better person. I'm fucked up." I started to cry, angry at myself. "I-It's okay." He stuttered, looking up at me. He noticed the tears streaming down my face, and his eyes widened. He walked across the room again and sat beside me. "I'm just fucked up. Nobody will ever love me." I looked down at the floor as the tears continued streaming down my face.