If You Smile At Me Today [ON HOLD]

Prologue [Part Two]- Titch

 My form tutor is late. As usual, he skips over my name in the register, knowing that I will never answer. It doesn’t matter whether what you have to say is nice or not, only speak when necessary; and stating my presence at school is definitely not necessary. I see his eyes glance over to me and mark it down that I am present before he continues.

 Standing up, pushing my chair under the desk with a bang that makes my jaw lock, walking to the door. Even though I am the first to reach and therefore to open the door, people barge past me and I am shoved forward into the hallway. People sigh and roll their eyes at me as I get in their way but I need a moment to get orientated and there are way too many people and most of them seem to be taller than me even though I’m not exactly petite. My first lesson is a study period. This means that you should sit in the library and catch up on missed work or revise or whatever. What actually happens- especially first thing on a Monday morning- is that you sit in the library and do nothing. Maybe read a book if you feel like it. Maybe take a nap. Or whatever.

 I head over to the library and see various people in my year also there for study period. You have to sign in at the front desk so that they know you’re there. I don’t see the point in this, but I do it anyway, because that’s what you have to do. I quickly scan the list of names to see if he has signed in. No.

 I sit down by myself and pull out some books but end up just staring into space. I didn’t have any work that had to be done, and even if I did I probably wouldn’t be doing it. I would just sit here and stare into space, because that’s what I do. And the library slowly fills with more people, and more and more of the seats get taken up and yet the one next to me remains empty. People even sit on the floor beside their friends’ desks rather than sit next to me. I don’t know why and I don’t ask why. I just stare.

 People start to get noisy again and they start to leave. I glance over to the clock that goes tick, tick, tick, and see that the whole hour has passed without my knowing it. I shove my books back into my bag and stand up, the leg of my chair knocking against the metal leg of the desk, and the woman behind the library desk rolls her eyes at me. I narrow my eyes and glare back at her- like everyone else can be noisy and I can’t? I don’t even like it when the chair leg hits the desk. It annoys me. I hate it.

 Chemistry next. I’m actually excited despite the deadpan expression I keep on my face. I glare moodily at people as they pass me and they roll their eyes and knock their shoulders hard into my collar bone. I sigh heavily in return.

 At first no-one appears to be in the corridor along which my Chemistry room is situated as I peer through the little window in the doors at the end, but then I catch sight of an elbow, its owner leaning against a wall further down the hallway. I open the door silently and begin to quietly walk forward. The elbow belongs to a girl with whom I have never spoken, and I get ready to ignore her ignoring me.

 There is someone else in the corridor.

 I can only just about see him- there is a pillar in the way- but he is there, leaning against the wall outside our classroom.

 If he smiles at me today.

 Suddenly I become frozen, unable to force myself to walk further down the hallway. His head snaps around as the door shuts slowly behind me, but I duck to the side, behind another pillar, hidden. I sneak a look down the corridor but he has turned away again. I breathe a sigh of relief. What if he does smile at me today? What if he talks to me? What do I do? Say? Think? Do? Say?

 What if I scare him? What if I’m too loud? Quiet? Cheerful? Depressing? Pleasant? Sarcastic?

 I opt to stay hidden behind the pillar until everyone else has arrived for class.

 Mr Cunningham finally arrives, swinging his briefcase cheerfully as he walks despite the fact that everyone knows he can be a real miserable bastard. He pushes the classroom door open and enters just as the rest of the students start to filter into the corridor. I creep moodily out from my hiding place, and the girl who had been leaning against the wall gives me a weird look as she notices that I have been lurking in the shadows. I wait until everyone has entered the room before I follow them.

 “Today, guys, we will be continuing with Empirical Formula, so if you could all get out your books…” Cunningham says. I can sense a dark mood brewing within him regardless of his jovial walking style.

 I hold my breath as I cross the space to my desk, dragging my seat back across the floor and sitting down. I unpack my things in silence and ignore the fact that the very person I wish to actually speak to is sitting beside me right now. I pull my books out of my bag and onto my lap before slipping the satchel under the desk. As I do so I glance to the side, but he is not smiling. I feel dirty for checking. I put my books on top of each other in size order in the top left corner of the desk. I can breathe now.

 He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t talk. So I don’t do anything to appear any more… there than normal.

 Cunningham starts to write on the whiteboard, but I don’t quite feel like paying attention. Teachers always expect you to turn up and start working straight away. I hate that. I need to feel like working in order to work. But I don’t right now. So I sit there. And stare at the clock. I don’t even open my books or pick up a pen to make it look like I am working. I just watch as the thin red hand starts to tick its way around the circle once again.

 Everyone else is working. I don’t even have the energy to move a pen across a page. I don’t have the energy for anything. I am numb. I am nothing.