A Main Character's Purpose

1. Theatre Kids are Weird

Author's Note: Hey to whoever stumbles across this! "A Main Character's Purpose" is a storyline that I have been developing in my head over the years since 8th grade. For reference, I just finished my fourth year of college. It's been a while! I am now finally putting it down in words, and this is ultimately going to become a published book, but for now, I will be updating it here until that time comes. I'm super open to feedback, and all support would be appreciated. I hope you enjoy! :)

PART ONE

Sometimes, I feel like there is some aspect of growing up that I missed. Everyone is leading their own lives, and it doesn't seem like anyone is quite as unprepared as I am. They all seem to have some pathway that they are following, like their magical brick road leading them to understanding what the purpose of their life is. Did I do something wrong during puberty? Miss a deadline or something? I mean, you have teachers like Mr. Baker. He knows exactly what he's doing, showing up every day to teach English to a bunch of rambunctious high schoolers, grade some papers, look perfectly put-together the whole time. The man's got it down, I don't know what else to say. Even people my age seem to be doing better. I mean, Jack is a football player, and he seems to be doing great with that. I don't think he'll have any trouble pulling a girl to marry, and I'll bet he could land some scholarship, go get a degree, a good job, buy a house and have kids, and live the happy American dream (whatever that's even supposed to mean, but this is no place to get political... at least for now). The point is, I don't have that. I have nothing I want to do. I'm not especially good at anything, I don't even really talk to people. Jack is literally my only friend. I'm just the scrawny, openly gay kid of the school. That's about as special as I get. What is my purpose supposed to be? I feel like I'm rambling, but I guess that's what a diary's for? I don't even know, I'm still so new to this. Maybe I'm not even doing this right.
"Cameron?" Shit. I nearly jump straight out of my seat, and I slam the diary shut, looking up to meet Mr. Baker's eyes. He pushes his glasses up with a grin. Honestly, if there is any one person that I would point to when asked for a representation of someone who has their life together, this is just the man I would choose. Mr. Baker always has a fresh haircut, the sides of his head so neatly shaved, and he must use some product to get the white fluff on top look so clean. Don't even get me started on his perfectly groomed beard and perfectly fit suits that he wears every day, even following the same exact pattern of colour schemes, alternating between black, grey, and navy blue. Good lord, I could use some lessons. "You know the bell rang about a whole minute ago by now, right?" He looks down at his watch, tapping it as if he were in a rush, but I know he isn't. He is never bothered. I swear he isn't capable of it.
"Oh!" I stand up straight and immediately gather my belongings together. In my haste, my black bound diary goes flying off my desk and lands at Mr. Baker's feet. He leans over with a grunt to pick it up and sighs.
"You know, I'm glad you're so interested in writing. Matter of fact, I'm a huge advocate for the benefits of keeping a diary." He holds the book out to me and catches my eyes. "But I did just assign a project. I sort of hoped you would put some work into it?"
I break eye contact as I grab the book. Too awkward. That was plenty enough direct eye contact for one interaction. I start shoving the diary, along with all my other possessions, into my bag. "Right," I say with a slight nervous chuckle to my voice. "I was having a hard time thinking. I figured doing a little bit of writing might get the creative juices flowing!" Sometimes my fake enthusiasm is so nauseatingly cheesy. Why do I sound like that?
It's not like I was necessarily lying to Mr. Baker. Everything I was writing was actually spurred on by the assignment he was talking about. We're supposed to start working on our personal philosophies on the "meaning of life." Talk about open-ended. I got too caught up in stressing myself out, fell into a spiral of existential dread, and I remembered the unused diary that has sat in my backpack for years, so I took it out. I always carry it on me, ever since I got it as a birthday gift my freshman year, but could never actually talk myself into using it until this year. It was a suggestion from my mom.
At that moment, I feel a buzz in my pocket, and my head shoots straight to the clock. 3:03 p.m. That's Jack, it has to be. "Oh, I've gotta go! Jack and I are seeing a local band tonight. He'll probably try to make me run laps if I'm even a second late." I finish shoving my books into my bag, fling it over one shoulder and make for the door. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Baker!" I wave at him with a smile, and I actually mean it. I hate school. But I like Mr. Baker. He makes it tolerable.
He chuckles knowingly. I'm sure he is well aware of the antics of the one and only Jack Olson. Jack may not be in his classes anymore, but he is not a forgettable presence. He will make sure of it. "Take care, Cameron."
Sure enough, as I fling out into the bustling hallway and look at my phone:

Jack: Cam! Lunastronauts tonight! You better not be late, or else!!!!!!!!!!!

He accompanies the text with a totally unnecessary amount of exclamation marks, about five huffing face emojis, and three fist emojis. That is how I know this is Jack talking to me and not some villain holding him hostage. If I ever receive a message from him without emojis and exclamation marks, I will know immediately to send out a search party.

Cameron: Oooooh shit, was that tonight? Are you sure? Sorry, I'm so busy tonight. I've got to walk my goldfish, and then I'm going to an absolutely massive rager!

Jack: Oh, party guy, are ya now, Bishop? Careful now, I'll bet the boys will be alllll over you there. (4 kissy faces, 3 heart eyes, and a drooling emoji).

Cameron: Sure you're not the one all over me? You sound jealous ;)

Jack: Nahh, we've got a date tonight. Now get your ass over here!!!

Cameron: Coming, sheesh. Desperate for my ass much?

I shove my phone in my pocket, but I didn't look up soon enough, because I walked head-on into the chest of some other guy, and a pile of papers scattered across the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I shout out on instinct, before even looking to see who it is. I duck straight to the floor and begin gathering the papers. They are posters for the high school theatre club. He must be a member. I suppose there are worse people I could run into than a theatre kid.
Okay, I must admit, this guy is cute. He is a good several inches taller than me, and considering I am not a short guy myself, that's saying something. He has just a few strands of his dark curly hair sticking out from under a dark green beanie, and it's hard to tell under his sweater, but I think he has some muscle.
"Dude, what the hell?!" he shouts out in a deep voice, and I feel my soul leave my body. I thought theatre kids were nice. Maybe a little annoying, but not mean. Maybe I have it all wrong. "Watch where you're walking next time, you dipass!" I can't help it. I try to hold back the laughter, but I inevitably let out a snort. "Oh, ha ha, is that so funny?" He stares intently into my eyes for a few seconds before breaking it. I find myself maybe a little distracted by the gorgeous chocolate brown hue of his eyes before snapping out of it when he talks again. "Alright, you got me. Cut!" Suddenly, the brightest grin stretches out on his face, spanning from ear to ear, and he giggles. "I'm an actor. It was all a bit. You should've seen your face!"
I start walking past him, but I stop at his side and look teasingly at him. "An actor, not a script writer. Who says dipass? Is that the best you could come up with?"
His face turns bright red in an instant. "Okay, you got me." He holds one of the posters out to me. I look down at it and back up at him with a look of bewilderment. "Well, people don't just run into each other in the hallway for nothing." He suddenly sounds so chill, so calm and smooth. It's like I'm hearing a whole new person. "I think there is a reason we met today. Take a poster. If you're such a great writer, maybe come check out the theatre club. We're actually looking to do an original script this year."
Okayyy, so this is weird, but I just have to get going to meet up with Jack before he has my head, so I grab the poster with a sigh. "Yeah, that sounds like a bunch of looney, but if it makes you happy."
"See you soon," he says, and I just simply wave as I walk towards the doors to outside. Okay, so I was right after all. Theatre kids are weird.