So those of you who read my "I Street Race Because..." story, don't kill me.... but I've started a new story. I just really couldn't help myself. I will still continue to upload "I Street Race..." but it just won't be as often.
So, this story is about.... well I won't really tell you. Just read it. *Contains profanity. The one main character likes to say the "f" word a lot... so don't read if you don't like swearing.*
Chapter One. Xander's Point of View.
Slam!
I accidently ran into someone in the hallway. Oh God. Here we fucking go again. The last thing I need is this shit. I’m going to be late for class now.
“Watch where you’re going, emo!” Troy said, earning a cheer of laughter from his so called "friends." God dammit I hated Troy. I hated all jocks, actually. They think they're better than me just because they're popular and their parents got money. Well fuck them. They're nothing but a waist of air. I could care less as to what happened to them. I just wish they'd leave me the hell alone.
To avoid getting the shit beat out of me, I mumbled something under my breath and walked away after picking my books up off the ground; attempted to walk away, that is. Troy’s words stopped me before I could even walk three feet.
“What’s your problem?” He asked, grabbing the top edge of my shirt and yanking upwards. “Stay the hell out of my face. Do you hear me?” He chuckled, and then I saw the look on his face as he got a better idea. This oughta be good; this oughta be really freaking good. “You know what, why don’t you just stay at home? No one wants you here. All you are is a waste of human life.” Now that wasn’t as bad as I was expected. Definitely not the first time to be called “a waste of human life,” as sad as that sounds, but it still hurt. I may have gotten used to being called mean things, but each one still hurts. I’m not completely impervious to everyone’s jeers. Each insult still makes me want to cry. Not that I am weak can’t handle a little name calling, but I have been picked on since I was in elementary school. No one at school has ever really seemed to show even the slightest bit of kindness to me; not even my damned teachers. It seems like I’m always getting picked on, always being blamed, and always alone.
Brushing off what Troy said, I tried to regain what little confidence I had left and hung my head in defeat as I walked away, thankful that Troy and his group were done and I was able to proceed to my class where I got reprimanded for being late. I wasn’t about to tell him in front of the whole class that Troy bullied me in the hallway and be humiliated in front of everyone, and on that note I was sent to the principal’s office.
Fuming mad, I stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind me. I’ll probably end up getting another detention. My mom is gonna be pissed. Wonderful. Today couldn’t get any worse, I assure you.
“Xander!” I heard a soft voice call out. Oh God. Just what I fucking need; note the sarcasm.
“Lillian, what are you doing walking around the hallways?” I asked, hoping to quickly get rid of her, knowing that the longer it takes me to get to Miss Robison’s office, the more hell I’ll get.
“I have a pass. I was talking to Mr. Weathers about the science project. What are you doing?” Damn goodie-two-shoes. She has a legit reason to be late every time. That’s not really nice to say about Lillian though. I do love her, despite the mean things I may say about her.
“Mr. Righter sent me to the damned office.” I said, watching her face scrunch up as I cursed. She hated that about me. I was always cursing. Lillian tried harder than mom to correct me of it and you’d think by now she’d be used to it. I have to admit, I did get a sense of joy just then, seeing her resenting my choice of words. “I was late. Troy and his gang ran into me… Literally. And then he told me what a waste of human life I was. Nothing new, I suppose.”
“Why didn’t you tell Mr. Righter that Troy was bullying you? It would have saved you another detention.” She replied, pausing before adding, “And by the way, Mom’s going to kill you. If you get one more detention after this one before the end of this marking period you’ll be sure to fail. Xander, you can’t afford to fail.” I sighed. I hated it when Lillian was right; which was unfortunately always. If I fail this marking period Mom will send me down to Dad’s for good. I wouldn’t be able to handle that. I would miss mom and Lillian too much. Now of course I would see Lillian when she came to visit Dad, but that wouldn’t be enough. Lillian is what keeps me semi-sane.
“I know. Now I better go before Miss Robison thinks I’m avoiding going to the office. I’m sure Mr. Righter called her and told her I was coming down.”
“Alright. Talk to you later. And good luck, Xan!” She called out, walking towards her next class. God, I wish she was coming with me to the office. I do so much better when she’s with me. She always knows how to get me out of things too, I thought, walking to Miss Robison’s office.
Slowly opening the door to the office, I quietly crept in, hoping not to get into much trouble. The lady at the receptionist’s desk saw me and I saw her put her book down and turn her attention to me.
“Hello. How may I help you?” She said sweetly. God. These office women make me sick. They pretend to like their job, but in all honesty they want to strangle all of us “trouble makers.”
“Xander Bender. Mr. Righter sent me here.” I said with a sigh at the end. All I wanted to do was go home. Home sweet home. Home, where my sister, mother, and I could be together, enjoy a nice meal, watch a comedy movie. Hmmm… I started to think to myself. Maybe that’s what we could do tonight. Lillian, our mother, and I could sit down after dinner and watch a movie. Maybe that would wash away all my problems… For two hours.
“Thank you, Alexander. Have a seat. Miss Robison will call you when she’s ready.” I growled at her use of my whole first name. Usually I only went by Xander. Only substitutes and creepy receptionists called me Alexander.
I started to think about what movie we should watch as I walked over and took a seat on one of the hard, plastic seats that were positioned against the wall. The seats were hard as shit. You think they could have more comfortable seats with all the money they school gets from taxes. Whatever, back to choosing a movie. What was the title of that new one that just came out on DVD? Oh God. Why can’t I remember anything? … Oh! I got it! It was…
“Mr. Bender. My office. Now.” God-fucking-dammit. That bitch. I had it too. I remembered the name of the movie, but she called my name and now I forget again. Damn.
I grumbled and made my way into Miss Robison’s office, shuffling my feet in defeat. This is where it all goes downhill, I thought. Miss Robison is the only teacher who is nice to me; although she gets quite pissed off when I “misbehave.” Little does she know I am being bullied more than her brain could handle. I often argue with myself that I should tell someone that I’m being bullied; explain to them my problems, but if I did that, what would happen? Troy would be confronted and then everyone would know. Then Troy would get mad at me for “tattling” and bully me even more. I’m fucking screwed either way.
“Take a seat, Mr. Bender. I’m disappointed in you; being late for class for the… What? The 4th time now?” Miss Robison asked, checking her clipboard she always carried. “Mr. Bender, I hope you know that one more late will qualify you to fail this marking period. Maybe we should call in your mother? Would that fix things?” Miss Robison was staring at me, almost right though me. She had better things to do then yell at me. I could tell she was bored; she had more important things to take care of. She’d rather be interrogating the kids who are in it big, threatening kids, skipping class altogether, the culprit of last week’s bomb threat, etc. She didn’t want to “waste” her time with me; someone who she knows isn’t really out to break any and every rule possible.
“No, ma’am. I ran into someone in the hallway. Literally. We had to pick up all our books, and that’s what caused me to be late. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. Sorry.” I quietly told her part of the truth. I really wasn’t paying attention and smashed into Troy.
She sighed heavily. “Alright, kiddo. I believe you, just try not to be late again. I don’t want to fail you. You’re a good kid, you know. I’d really hate to fail you because you weren’t paying attention… in the hallways. I’ll let you slide this time. No detention, but don’t let it happen again. Got it?” She asked after her little lecture. I was damn near sick of fucking lectures. I hear them all day long; from teachers, from my sister, from Miss Robison. God.
