Something Gained

Of All Things

                                                                      Something Gained

Beginning's in my taste are overrated. Especially in books. They always start with a big bang, or make you wonder enough for your curiosity to get the best of you. Then you feel forced, and have to fulfill the hunger, and read the whole book. Me, personally, I actually like reading. It's the luring part I don't like.

If you ask any kid my age, a kid that might have been through hard times, what they wanted most in their life, they might say to be normal. To have a normal family, to have a normal body, to have a normal life. But what I say to that, is that normal is so overrated. And I'm not saying that just because all of those teachers and counselors who are made to say that and don't exactly mean it. Not how I mean it.

What I mean by, "normal", is that I've tried to be like other people. I've tried to be out-going, tried to weasel myself into popular groups, tried to be extra funny, just to get a laugh out of some people who were higher up than me. But I could really care less when I got to the end of eighth grade. I really could care less. Because now, people expected me to have that energy 24/7, which I could barely do, (read, fake) for twenty minutes. It's like people wanted me to give them energy, to withspread the whole human race. Which, again, I could barely carry for myself.

I liked being a quiet, observant person. I noticed things. Like how Maddie Lark's leggings would stretch so far over her ass, so that her underwear looked like a tattoo on someone's face. Like Post Malone, or something like that. It was just so noticeable. Or like how when my teacher, Mr. Nerl, thought when no one was looking, he could sneak onto his phone, on Facebook, and stare longingly at twenty-seven year old's in bikinis. Or maybe how Ryker Pike would always yank up his shorts so they looked like booty shorts and prance around like that, knowing girls were fanning over him. You know, the little things.

But me being an important nobody, (as my mom says all the time) Liam Flair was going to accomplish something one day. I wish that were true, but I see my mom's eyes always flit past me, and to something that means more to her, like drugs, or alcohol. I take more care of her than the other way around. My life definitely isn't a white picket fence, that's for sure. I don't have it easy, but at least I know things. I know when danger is going to shove its nasty face in mine, but at least I know how to make it back off. I know how to make it stop, and know that I give precisely zero shits about it. Nope, I'm just a regular seventeen year old quiet boy, with a secret life behind the curtain. But how was I supposed to know that Toto was going to pull that curtain wide open?

And yes, I don't actually mean the dog, Toto. It's supposedly supposed to be a metaphor, or something like that. I don't really know. But I do know that Baz Adele, Simon Thorne, and Parker Sanjay weren't really the dogs I pictured to roll around with. I went to elementary school with them, and at least participated in one class with at least one of them in it. But, jeez, I never thought that I'd be around in their crowd. I don't even notice them all the time. They're kind of like me, except that they're okay with talking with each other when the room is all quiet. I never do that, but hey. I guess some things change.

Like yesterday, Simon came up to me by my locker, while I was just getting some books out. He leaned against my locker, and just watched me. I shut my locker door, and faced him. "Um, you need something?" I asked him, and he gave me a casual shrug, and just walked off. I didn't exactly know what that meant, but I just forgot about it after further classes. I mean, what did I expect? Him to shove me on a wall and beat me up? No, I don't think so. Simon doesn't even look like a guy who would beat anybody up. Not for fun, at least. Maybe protection for himself or friends. He even looks like a normal guy; messy brown hair, dark brown eyes, wears baggy jeans and shirts that show off his weight-trained biceps. Taller than me, most definitely. But otherwise, he looks like a guy who would just be chilling out on his deck, watching the waves to an ocean, drinking a can of Bud Light. You know, just a chill guy. A guy who could handle things if he needed to, but most of the time chooses not to. A bystander, maybe. But a guy who would most definitely intervene if things got too rough.