Cold Coffee and Stale Cigarettes *on hold*

Cruel Laughter

Prologue

Five years ago.

 R.Z

So, there's this guy.

Isn't there always?

Except, here's the thing:

I know nothing about him, not his name, not if he's an only child, what grade he's in or his age. In fact, I don't even have a class with him during the school time hours. The things I do know, are few, and rather unpromising.

His hair is either black or a very, very dark brown, and his eyes are deep, sad hazel brown. The boy is rather pale and skinny with a stature barely scraping six foot. A set of broad shoulders saves him from looking too lanky. Even though it is against school policy, a chain hangs down from his side, and he is always listening to music on the player I never see. He hasn't noticed me; never once has he gazed anywhere but straight ahead. I didn't know why, but everything about him was magnetic. I wanted to know the story behind the harsh frown on his lips and the hunched set in his shoulders. Every day, on my way to my locker, I saw him walking down the hall after lunch. Today, I didn't see him right away, but he came strolling down the hallway, a slight jerky gait troubling his stride as if he were ready to bolt at a moment's notice. That's around the time the laughter started. Two girls following several feet behind me were practically clinging to each other in hysterical tears at some unheard joke. I had listened to their boisterous, gasping giggles all the way down the hall.

"Seriously?" One of them chortled in laughter, causing me to wince.

"Yea! I'm not kidding!" The other one supplied, and they both succumbed to another squeal. For some strange reason, the boy had come to my mind.

"Have you ever asked him before?" A girl giggled.

"No..." 

I turned in the hallway home to my locker, hands trembling slightly as I punched in my combination. The boy had been getting closer. I hoped his ear buds were in. I hoped he wouldn't hear what they were laughing about. His heavy steps echoed as he passed the side hall where I stood, the clinking of keys heard before there was more laughter.

"Oh my gosh! There he is! Ask him!" There was silence for a few moments, as I stood there, gathering my books, wanting to go help him but not doing anything. I was a coward. When another burst of squealing laughter cut through the air, I squeezed my eyes shut, and turned the opposite way, heading towards my class, with guilt gnawing away at my soul.

I didn't see him in the hall after my next class but we passed each other after school as packs of hyped up kids flooded the back hallway I was trapped in. He was walking with burning eyes, moving amongst the people who were squeezed so tightly I could hardly move. For once, his eyes turned towards me, causing an electric jolt to take my breath away, as recognition seemed to flood into his own desolate orbs. In the brief few seconds our gazes held, I decided I didn't want to send him pity. Pity was too raw, too hard to stomach. Instead, I sent a silent apology. I had been too pathetic to save him from whatever those girls had been laughing about. For a moment, the air seemed to freeze, before he disappeared into the pulsing throng of people and I drifted away.

At dinner that night, my brother asked me if I had done anything interesting in school today. I shook my head in a slow, agonized no, even though all I wanted to do was scream about the soulless jackasses populating my school.

The boy wasn't at school today.