I woke up around five in the morning, and got showered, dressed and ready for the morning chores. I brushed my long brown hair, putting it through a sloppy ponytail. I went and brushed my teeth, looking at myself in the mirror. I have had a few people tell me how handsome I looked. Even with my slender frame. My smooth pale skin always stood out with everyone else. I didn't see what they saw. They saw a slender, well-muscled young man, agile and fast, a good-looking guy. I just saw a pale and sickly boy.
I took care of the laundry, took out the trash and made my way upstairs, starting to get breakfast ready for the others. I didn't like being the male version of Cinderella, but what could I do? I made breakfast, fried the bacon, scrambled the eggs, and brewed the pot of coffee. I set the table. By the time John and Tom sat down at the table, I had just brought out the steaming platters of food in front of them. John sneered at the food. I knew he wasn't impressed. Tom at least looked thankful but knew not to say anything.
We lived in one of the largest houses in the town. John's family bought it in the early nineteenth century. The three-story house with a large tower in the back center of the structure was renovated and updated over the years. The house has twelve bedrooms, three bathrooms and a large basement and attic. The large yard was surrounded by a privacy fence. John was from old money. His family created jobs for the city and did charity work, even though John had been selfish and stingy. He used his money to improve his life and Tom's.
Two years ago, I found out that his family founded Mt. Delusa, even though it rarely gets mentioned outside of here. The city still does a lot of trade throughout the country. Precious ore, coal and minerals were sold from our mines, and We are the only place in the country that sells a unique herb. It can be used for seasoning foods, cleansing homes, bringing aromas that smell exotic and sweet. With the right preparations it can be used as a toxin for pests like spiders, flies, rodents, and other bugs.
Sales have been skyrocketing around the nation, so whatever people are using this herb for, must be meeting expectations. "Matt, make sure you get all the chores done before nine tonight, and then get your homework done," John said to me. I nodded. "Of course, sir." I said softly. Tom gave me a warning look. I didn't understand why. Have I done something that I didn't remember or realize? I wondered. Tom's look continued to pierce into me. His eyes pleading and warning. "So, I got off the phone with your Phys. Ed and history teacher. They told me your grades aren't bad, but could be better," John said.
I blinked. "I'm sorry. I thought my grades were a high "B" right now and with the test coming up, would be able to put it up into the "A" range," I told him. He nodded, deep in thought. "I guess there's some logic behind that reasoning. Now, answer this for me. What made it slip in the first place?" he inquired. "I honestly am not sure. I studied like crazy. I guess I mixed up a couple dates and it brought it down. I am working extra hard to correct that," I promised him. I waited for them to finish eating and then started to clean up and do the dishes. I put away the food.
Fortunately for them, they don't eat leftovers and it would give me something to eat after school. I never had much time before school to have breakfast and I wasn't on the lunch program. I had to sneak food on weekends and during holidays. John gets me some cheap pop tarts and granola bars with cheap breads, packages of lunch meats and butter. I finished drying the plates and cups and put them away. I cleaned the pans and hung them up to dry when Tom and John left the house. At least, I thought John left.
"By the way. I have to give you a warning about your grades," he said walking up behind me. He grabbed my right arm and twisted it behind my back and slammed his palm into my left shoulder and I heard bone crack and pop. I gritted my teeth and forced myself from shouting out. He slammed me down onto the counter, pulling my arm tighter, twisting harder. Then he pushed me into the counter, letting me go. "Now, you know that you have to get the grades up. I want to see some real effort with this test," he warned.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. He turned to walk out as I slowly turned around and grabbed my bag by the kitchen table. I headed out the door in the main hall, locking the door behind me. I made my way down the driveway and went through the small door next to the main gate, locking it behind me. I continued down the normal path to the ice-covered sidewalk, down the road and through main streets. I crossed the four-way section between Lavalt street and frel lane. I passed the police station, the hospital and finally made it to the corner of the high school.
I crossed through the fence, watching all the students parking. I made my way across the snow-covered grounds. I made my way through the front doors and watched as teachers, the principal and the nurse all watched as the students came through. A couple of the teachers watched me closely and I moved as the first bell rang and went to my locker. I turned the corner and ran into someone. A solid figure, knocking me down. I landed hard on my butt and slid a few inches back.
I glanced up and saw a hot young man with shoulder length shiny black hair where it looked almost with blue tints. Perfect smooth skin, bright blue eyes, perfect white teeth. He has broad shoulders, a chiseled face, and designer clothes. I could see through his clothes, that clung and formed to his body that he is muscled and solid. He looked down at me and frowned. "Are you okay?" he asked me. I nodded, not looking into his eyes. "Here," he offered his hand. I froze when I saw who stood behind the guy. Tom, with his dark brown hair, his seething green eyes, Tom is one of the most athletic guys in school.
Muscular, stocky, and standing just under six-foot. Tan skin, subtle freckles. His girlfriend Amy stood next to him. Pale, small case of acne, dark blue eyes, with long flaming red curly hair that fell to her shoulders. She is stocky, but pretty. Both were perfect together. They had the same temperament and hostility. I didn't understand the change this morning with him. I grabbed his hand, not thinking about the fact that it was the one John hurt this morning. As he pulled me up, I screeched in pain. "Are you okay?" he asked in concern.
"Yeah, don't worry about it. I slept wrong is all," I said. I couldn't meet his eyes and the scrutinizing look he gave me told me that he didn't believe me. "Zal, come on. We still have to show you around," Tom said, trying to pry him from me. "Of course, but he's hurt." I stepped away from him. "Don't worry about me. I am fine. I promise. I have to get to my locker and head to class," I said. I scooted around them all, Amy sticking her foot out to trip me. The new kid Zal was watching everything. "What the hell?" he demanded, snapping at her. I jumped over her foot, bracing against the lockers.
"What is the meaning of this?" We all turned to the voice. Mr. Kent, the principal. An older, hunched man, with dull gray, balding hair and shimmering brown eyes approached. "Nothing sir." Zal informed him. "Mr. Kent remained a sharp man, even in his old age. He wore a sharp black suit with a golden and forest green tie. "Matthew Jones? One more slip and you'll have detention." Zal stepped over to him. He whispered something in his ear, and I saw the principal pale at whatever Zal said. I looked at them both.
"Never you all mind now. Get to class. The final bell is about to ring, and I wouldn't want anyone to be tardy!" he said loudly. Everybody moved to their lockers and then to class. Tom and Amy were close behind me as they talked to Zal. I could feel his eyes on me as I headed to first period. I had joined the band class years ago, figuring it would be a simple class. I didn't realize how challenging the class would actually be. I tried a few instruments, but the only thing that resonated with me was the piano. Mrs. Shelly had a fancy classical piano that she acquired that she managed to donate to the school.
Mrs. Shelly is probably one of the youngest teachers here. She studied at Juilliard, a prodigy, and got there through a full scholarship. She has long blond straight hair, slender and a perfect figure. Her perfect cream-colored skin, and rectangle glasses. She could play every instrument at this school with ease, and she was a really talented singer who, out of everybody in school, had the best voice control. I didn't think they were paying her enough here. I didn't expect her to be a patient instructor either. I figured she would be reckless and impatient. She turned out to be the complete opposite. She knew that not everyone would learn as easily as her.
It took a while to learn how to play. She managed to convince John to allow me to stay after school for a month to learn the instrument. I don't know what she did. He didn't seem too upset about it. I didn't think I was that good, but Shelly seemed impressed with my performance and said that every day I was getting better. I hoped she was right. I didn't want to hurt the group with a bad performance. We did our normal warm-up and then began working on the winter songs. These kids were the only ones that Tom and Amy didn't seem to have control over. They did their own things. They didn't allow the bullies to push them around.
It also helped that the guitarist is captain of the volleyball team, and the base drum was linebacker of the football team. These two people alone seem to keep everyone from bothering us. The school songs were more advanced than normal high school songs, but only a few of our roles were more challenging than the others. Gwen, who played the electric guitar, the saxophone and my role was the most complicated. Gwen even worked with me on helping me learn the parts. Mrs. Shelly even had us go into separate rooms that are soundproof to work together with similar parts and then helped us as needed. Then we would branch out work with the other kids that play parts opposite and work to compliment each other.
With that, we worked together and perfected the piece together. The school concert was a month away and even though I didn't feel all the confident, everyone seemed to think that I was one of the best pianists that the class had had in a while. Confidence wasn't one of my strong suits. The bell rang and everyone seemed good about the coming up concert. I went to my locker and grabbed my biology book and headed down the hallway towards class. I saw Brian coming my way. I ducked low, trying to avoid him, but he grabbed my arm, spinning me around, slamming me up against the wall.
He pressed his forearm up against my throat, pinning me against the wall. "I know that you were talking to the new student. That can't be tolerated," he said in his raspy voice. Brian stood over six-five and weighed about three-hundred pounds, mostly muscle. "I wasn't talking to him," I began. "Yeah, see. No one believes you. How about I teach you a lesson how things go in this school," He offered. My heart began to beat wildly. He grabbed me and lifted me off the ground four inches. "I don't think you have learned your way around here yet, have you?" He demanded. "What the hell you dick!" I glanced and saw Gwen rushing towards us. Her long raven black hair, flying around her face.
She always wore silk dragon designed shirts, each dragon a different color. Her knee length skirt was a special design. The black and brown leather skirts were designed with belts, chains from the waist down to the ankles was matching material that hugged her legs and down to her ankles. Her small, spiked combat boots were made of an unknown material. She yanked Brian's arm and with surprise on her side, managed to pull him away from me. I collapsed onto the ground, knees folding up to my chest. "You stupid bitch!" Brian screamed. He went to strike her, but she ducked under the swing.
He came back around as she came up. He would have struck her in the eye, but a hand came out and caught, twisted, and pushed him away. Zal stepped in front of Gwen. Zal stood in front of her, arms crossed protectively. Brian went to move against him but froze when he saw who was standing in front of him. "Whatever, I don't have a problem with her anyways," he snarled. Brian turned towards me and before he even took a step towards me, Zal reached up and shoved him away from me. He glanced back at Gwen. "You, okay?" he asked. She nodded. Fear crept in and paralyzed me to the ground.
"Why do you protect him?" Brian demanded both of them. Zal glanced towards me, and I expected to see disgust, anger, and hatred. Instead, I saw compassion, worry, and concern. I thought at first that he heard her shout, but I don't think he was listening. Then I focused as Brian seethed at me. "Why do I protect someone who clearly didn't do anything wrong? Well, let's see. I think it's worth protecting someone who can't protect themselves or hasn't done any harm or anything wrong. Instead of siding with the large bully who throws his weight around, trying to scare others in submission," Zal snapped.
Brian didn't know what to say. He just blank stared Zal. "Say what?" Was all he said. Zal sneered. "Okay, I'll try to say it slowly and simply. "You're a jackass. You are a loser who will most likely not amount to anyone because you think your muscles and scare tactics will get you anywhere you want out of life. The thing is though. I won't be the one tolerating that. Neither will my mother. The superintendent," Zal explained. "Are we having another issue?" Mr. Kent demanded. "Before you lose your cool, Mr. Kent.
"Why don't you check out the security videos. Superintendent Karlen, my mother had them installed over the weekend," Zal told him. "How come I wasn't informed about this?" the principal demanded. Zal remained cool. "You'll have to talk to her about that. I can't answer for the actions that she does. I can't know what her overall plans are going to be," he said. Mr. Kent glared. "I'll be sure to discuss this with her. I should be informed. I know she's new to the area. That doesn't mean she can just come in and make changes," he snapped. Now Zal narrowed his eyes, and his tone took on a cold edge.
"I'm sure she'll love the fact that you are wanting to counter her choices and how hostile that you are feeling," Zal commented. Mr. Kents eyes became hard and then looked around. He saw me on the ground, Brian glaring around at everyone. "Matt, I guess this means detention," he hissed. "Yeah, I don't think so," Zal and Gwen snapped together. I didn't know what pull they had, but their tone and expressions seemed to freeze the principal in his tracks. "You may be the kids of some bigwigs, but that doesn't mean you have authority over me," he snapped, trying to sound intimidating, but failing.
"Did you forget that my father is the mayor?" Gwen asked. Zal snickered. "Very well. I'll discuss this with your mother first. For now, go to class," Mr. Kent ordered. "Sir!" Brian argued. "Matt attacked me. He tried to trip me in the hall!" Zal and Gwen both hissed in anger and annoyance. "Well, we will know soon enough after we view the security videos," Mr. Kent promised. Zal pulled out his phone and clicked something and I heard a weird chime sound. I figured it was him sending a file to someone. Then he sent a quick text.
He saw me looking and winked at me. Then walked over to offer me a hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet. "You have biology now, right?" he asked. I nodded. "Let's go. I'm in your class," he said. I smiled tentatively. He gestured towards the classroom, and we walked through the open door. I expected him to trip me or shove me aside. He didn't do any of that. I went to the back table where I sat. Two open seats were available and as Zal was talking to Mr. Shaffer, stood, barely five-five, platinum blond hair, large and stocky. he gestured towards my table. I didn't know what he was talking about, or why he would want to sit by me.
Mr. Shaffer didn't have any objections, so he let him come to my table. Everyone was watching him closely and clearly giving me a death stare. Zal pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. He placed his books in the middle between us with a black spiral and cobalt blue lead pencil. Mr. Shaffer began his lesson on mitochondria and what its job was. We discussed that mitochondria are known as the powerhouse of the cells and all the features that people may not know about. Zal made small talk during the reading assignment as we took the notes that we felt would be more important for the quiz and test. A lot of the facts that we wrote down were the same.
Then we each took some notes that the other thought was not important. We would discuss that with each other and agree that most of what we wrote would be crucial or it felt important. The teacher walked around to silently check our notes and he quietly sighed at some papers and a few he seemed impressed. When Mr. Shaffer got by us, he looked over our spirals. We each had three pages front and back. The most important facts or key facts were given their own symbol. The others were branched off as side facts. Mr. Shaffer looked between us. "Did you two softly discuss important facts?" he asked us.
I felt my heart race in fear. "Not in so many words. We each saw the others notes and thought that they felt like they could be beneficial to studying and knowing what's to come for the tests and assignments," Zal explained. Mr. Shaffer looked between us and then whispered, looking more at me, and said, "keep up the good work. This is some splendid and detailed notes," he said before walking off. I felt eyes on me and didn't look up. I couldn't handle seeing the glares from the others. The intense looks continued until I heard a deep sinister hissing come from next to me. The sound echoed out around us but went forward towards the class.
Everything froze, no one moved or said anything. The tension faded; the class seemed to be locked in a timeless circle that wouldn't end. Then the bell rang, and everyone jumped. Zal and I were the last out of the classroom and the teacher nodded to us as we passed. "I'm deeply sorry about what happened," Zal told me as we headed back to our lockers. "Were you the one who hissed?" I asked. I still felt fear from the sound and how it echoed around everyone like a dark fog creating a cone of silence in the room, paralyzing everyone. I was almost afraid to hear his answer. I was afraid he would turn that hiss or anger onto me.
His calm response forced me back a step, "Yeah, but only because the cold glares that the others were casting you, was making me mad." I didn't know how to answer. "You were bothered by their looks?" I asked him. He gave me an inquiring look. "Well, I saw how it was making you feel. Is that normal around here? I mean, does everyone do that?" he asked. I shook my head. "No, not everyone. Gwen is really nice to me. Chris is as well," I told him. Zal chuckled. "From what I see, some of the teachers have respect for you," he said. I shrugged. I guess that may be true. I didn't think much about it though.
We went to our lockers. My next class, calculus. Only a small handful of students took this class. This was designed for the students the school feels are more advanced. Zal went to a different class. I actually felt better with him around. I shouldn't. I shouldn't be dependent on him. I didn't even know him. He is friends with Tom, and I knew better than to try to be mutual friends with his group. That never worked out well for me. Calculus is taught by an older Asian woman with long black hair wrapped up in a neat bun. Ms. Chen. Kali Chen. She had a thick accent and sometimes it was hard to understand what she was saying.
I quite enjoyed the class though. The challenge was something I strived for. The eleven other students felt the same way. They weren't overly mean, just distant. These were the kind of students who focused on their academics and not much else. I took the notes and did the assignment that Ms. Chen gave us. I turned it in right before the bell rang. You may be wondering why with these types of classes; I would be doing bad in history or gym. Well, I guess the best answer would be that I didn't care much for running around, getting sweaty and I didn't feel that history was being portrayed the right way or accurately.
I know that I should take history seriously. Phys. Ed just wasn't something I was really concerned about. Too many people in my class are jocks and I didn't care enough about sports to really get too involved with their competitive streak. They took it so seriously. I had to get my grades up because John would make it worse, and history was my next class to head to before lunch. Mr. Alvera was already seated at this desk when I walked in. I was usually the first one to class and he nodded in greeting. I waved slightly and then took my seat. I ignored the pain in my arm. Mr. Alvera noticed and asked if anything was wrong.
I couldn't help but notice his strong cheekbones and muscular build. His black shiny hair pulled back in a ponytail with feathered beads tying the hair back. Most teachers wore dress pants or skirts with a blouse or button shirt and shoes. Mr. Alvera always wore something more traditional to his heritage. He wore a wool and deerskin kilt colored black and a red sash around his waist. Dark red leather leggings and a wool belt. Somehow, he customized the outfit to take on traditional clothes in today's society as well as from ancestors. They looked like what the Iroquois would wear and jeans.
I'm not sure he managed that. Unless he designed them himself to try to honor both backgrounds. He walked up to me and asked again, "Are you okay? I see that you are shifting your arm and trying to keep the weight off of it," he said, pointing at my right arm. "Oh, I slept wrong is all. I was having a restless night, and I must have been on it during the night," I told him. He didn't seem to believe me, but he let it go. "Take it easy. I have to say this before class begins which we don't have much time," he began. I figure that I would get berated for the homework and the grades. "You shouldn't have received that 'B' and your overall grade should be higher," he told me.
I didn't understand. "You know how I had that substitute for the day, and you all had the quiz?" I nodded. Not liking where this was going. "Well, you didn't get those two questions mixed up. You got the dates wrong. She marked you wrong and put the grades in herself. She wasn't supposed to. She was just supposed to take the tests and I was to grade them. She claimed that she only had the time to grade ten of the student's tests, but I looked through them. They were placed in the pile in alphabetical order. There's no way she should have gotten to your test, if she only had time to grade ten tests," he told me.
"I see," I said sadly. "I went to Mr. Kent about it. He said there's nothing that could be done and he would take disciplinary action and claim that I was favoring a student. So, I have an idea. We have a test coming up. It's the regular one with the extra credit option. However, yours is going to have a second extra credit question," he told me. "Wouldn't that be suspicious and easily tracked?" I asked. He grinned and winked. "Don't worry about that. I have that covered," he assured me. "Well, I don't want you getting in trouble because of me," I whispered. "You stop worrying about adults. We can take care of ourselves," he told me firmly. I nodded and apologized for what I did.
He just shook his head and sighed. The bell rang then. The other students started filling in and taking their seats. "Now, I know we only have a few days before the test, so I want to go over the project that we need to have done in two weeks. Plus, the test is coming up. So, why don't we go over a quick practice session this period. Now, most of you are confident in yourself and some may have doubts. I want most of you to know that you shouldn't be worried about the test. You have all done well this semester and the test shouldn't pose much of a challenge for you. There's going to be an option for extra credit," he told us.
We spent the rest of the hour splitting the class into groups of five. He placed our rows into the groups and the student with the highest grade in each group was group leader. They were the ones to choose who would go up and answer the questions. I knew that our group leader would barely have me go up unless either forced to or the question was really easy. Then we began. Our group ended up getting in last place, and I was never sent to the board to answer. Mr. Alvera watched us closely and I saw the others getting nervous.
"We have to send him to the board. We don't have a choice. The people going up now don't have a damn clue what the fuck the answers are!" Helen hissed in April's direction, the one in charge of our group. April just glared at me. "We can't. He probably has the worst grades in this entire school." The other six people stared at me. "You have the next question. If you fail this," April threatened, and I didn't have to know what she would probably do. "Next question!" Mr. Alvera shouted over the conversations. We were discussing the pioneer period. We were talking about the settlers from Oregon to Mississippi to Illinois. The trail where a lot of people died from starvation, disease, and such.
I went up to the board and answered the question: "How many emigrants to settlers were killed along the pioneer trail between 1840-1860?" I smiled to myself. This was something that I was good at. Dates, facts, and numbers like this. I wrote "64" on the board and I even wrote that 362 emigrants were killed by Indians and 426 Indians were killed by emigrants during this time period. I wrote it so quickly that some of the others were still trying to figure out what to write. Mr. Alvera put up dividers so no one could see what the other was writing.
The class could see what everyone wrote, but the ones on the board couldn't cheat. They just sighed and then wrote something down. Mr. Alvera went by us all and then sighed when he read some of the answers. When he went to me, he winked at me. "Well, it looks like Matt has the only correct answer and due to the detailed response, I'm awarding him two points. Only because part of his answer was the answer to the next question." Everyone froze in place and watched as I made my way back to my desk. April gave me a death stare and the others were astounded. I couldn't look any of them in the eyes.
"I think we need to let him answer more," Helen told April. "He got lucky. That's all," she hissed back. Helen grew furious. "I don't think he got lucky!" Helen snapped. The others in the class all turned to stare at us. I felt embarrassed and sank down into the chair. Mr. Alvera cleared his throat and then finally managed to get us back on track. Helen asked Mr. Alvera if we could vote out our group leader. She put up a good reason and he allowed it, so she took over. April tried to dispute it and challenge that decision, but she was shut down. Everyone was against her. So, Helen was now in charge of the group.
She sent me up to the board more times than the rest of the group. After each time an answer was given correctly, people wrote it down in a spiral. Clearly people weren't paying much attention to their homework or the lesson. By the time the bell ended, our group was tied with Robert's. "So, tomorrow will be another rehearsal day for the test!" Mr. Alvera said as we were leaving. "We need to determine a winner for this challenge. Never before have I ever seen a tie," he told us. I always chose to be the last one out. "You did well today. Keep this up and I'm sure your grades will reach number one in the school," he told me.
I chuckled softly. I didn't know if I wanted that, but I couldn't deny that the thought wasn't an appealing one. At least it would keep John from coming at me for a while. I headed off to the cafeteria after placing my books in the locker. I wasn't on the lunch program and John only gave me enough balance for one meal a week. I couldn't qualify for the financial assistance because John was legally my guardian and made too much money for me to qualify. I watched as the other students got in line. Someone gently bumped into me, and I flinched and stepped away. "Hey, I'm sorry, I'll move," I said without looking.
"You don't have to move. I wasn't bumping into you because you were in my way," I heard Zal say. I looked up at him and he grinned at me. "You shouldn't be trying to be my friend. You chose Tom and it would end badly if he saw you being nice to me," I told him. He gave me a weird look. "I can't be friends with both of you?" he asked. "Not legally. He won't do anything to you. Obviously, you can handle yourself. Not considering your mom is the superintendent of the school district," I told him. He rolled his eyes at me. "Why aren't you in line?" he asked. I hated this question. Teachers would ask this then make a big deal and call John.
Then things ended up bad for me at home. He would get angry and violent. Eventually, I begged the teachers and everyone to stop asking why I don't eat at lunch time. "Matt?" Zal asked. "Oh, sorry. I sometimes space out. Um, I guess the reason why I don't eat is because I don't have the funds to pay for the meals. It's a long and complicated story. I don't want to get into it. I eat at home though," I told him. He only shook his head. "Come on, how about we go get something to eat?" He offered. "Only seniors are allowed to drive off campus," I reminded him. "Yes, and I am a senior and you're accompanying me," he replied.
"You're bending the rules," I accused. He laughed. "Come on, I'll take the heat if anything happens. We have forty minutes, and we are wasting time," he told me. He grabbed me by the arm and gently dragged me towards the main doors. "Where do you think you're going?" We both turned to see Mr. Kent approaching us from the main office. "Sir, just going to get something to eat really quick," Zal told him. "He's not a senior and he's not allowed off campus," Mr. Kent sneered. Zal didn't seem perturbed by this.
"Actually, your policy states relating to minors, they aren't allowed off campus without accompany of someone eighteen years old or older. I'm eighteen. He's accompanying me to McDonalds really quickly. We aren't doing anything against policy," Zal informed him. Mr. Kent rocked back on his heels. "You're making that up," he snapped. "Sir, are you really denying two students their chance to eat during the school lunch break?" Zal demanded. His tone remained calm, but his expression became hard.
"Go, but I will be checking up on your facts," he warned. Zal shrugged. As we left to go to the parking lot, he scrolled through his phone and sent another message. "Is there something I need to know about?" I asked him. "Nope, just informing my mother about events that are happening," he informed me. I just sighed. "Matt, don't argue or fight about this," he warned. I gave him a scared look. "I wasn't going to argue with you. I just wanted to make sure that you're not doing something to get in trouble because of me," I replied. His expression and body language became relaxed, and he laughed.
"You should worry more for yourself than me. You said it yourself; I know how to handle myself. Now, come on! We don't have long before lunch is over," he told me. We rushed to the parking lot, Zal leading me to his car. A four-door convertible, custom made, cobalt blue with blood red lightning bolts across it. "Would you stop freaking out and get in please," Zal said to me. I opened the door and climbed in. Zal closed the door for me and then went to his side. He got in and started up. Seven other students were still leaving the parking lot. Zal followed them out of the parking lot and took a right while they all went left.
"Are we really going to McDonald's?" I asked him. He laughed. "No, I already placed an order in for something for us in anticipation of you joining me today," Zal told me. "You're confident," I grumbled. He laughed again. "Well, not really. I just liked my chances," he admitted. I chuckled softly. "How much am I going to have to owe you?" I asked quietly. I was actually afraid to ask, but I knew I needed to. He just turned his eyes on me for a second before answering. "What makes you think you have to pay me back? I'm offering you lunch. It's not something you're indebted to me," he said.
"I guess that's something new to me. Usually I have to earn it, even if someone offers," I confessed. "Then it's not offered freely. Sometimes people should do something for someone without expecting payment," he said coldly. His tone scared me again. He shook his head and calmed down. "I'm sorry. I just don't understand humans," he said. That was a weird response. Was he saying he wasn't human? No, that's not possible. People weren't anything but human. I decided to ignore that comment. I didn't know if he meant it in the literal term or the generalized one. So, best not to dwell on it. "Where have you decided to take us for lunch then?" I asked.
He grinned. "You're going to like this place," he promised. He turned off down a side street. There wasn't any traffic. Large fields of the city's popular plants that help fund the economy lined the right side. The left side held a different type of plant. "I know the plant on the left. But, what's on the right?" I asked, intrigued. I looked back at him, and I saw his expression frozen in pain. "Hey, are you okay?" I asked. He nodded, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Zal, if something is paining you, you don't have to go this route or to where you plan on going to eat," I said to him.
He shook his head defiantly. "No, the only place to get this food is down this way, but it's totally worth it," he said, voice on edge. "Zal, where are we going? We don't have a lot of time," I reminded him. He only pointed to a small building just four minutes ahead. I could barely make it out, but it was the only place in sight. We pulled into the small parking lot and almost instantly, a young woman came out carrying two large bags and headed straight over to us. He thanked the woman, and she rushed back inside. "Why don't you go ahead and eat while we head back to school," Zal suggested.
"You're allowing me to eat in your car?! What if I make a mess?" I asked, voice squeaking. He gave me a weird look and rolled his eyes. "Matt, just eat the food," he ordered. I was too worried to ignore him. I opened the bag and grabbed a plastic dark green container. I opened it up to see a large, divided container with a clear lid on top. The food was separated from each other. I could smell it slightly from the closed container and it made my mouth water. Pulled pork barbeque, buttered garlic corn, steamed broccoli and chocolate fudge pudding with strawberries diced on top. A heavy-duty plastic spoon and fork rested at the bottom of the bag.
"Are you sure?" I asked him. He gave me a dark look. I flinched away from him and lifted the sealed top and took some small bites. "Matt, for the love of God and eat the food. You don't have to nitpick at it. If you make a mess, I'll just clean it later," Zal snapped. I flinched again. I ate quicker and I sat in silence as we made our way back to the school. The food was the best I've had in a long time. I enjoyed everything; the pudding was probably my favorite. I put the lid back on the container and placed it back in the bag. "This was probably the best I've ever had in a very long time," I told him quietly.
I barely heard my own words. I was actually surprised that he did. I saw his grin though. He seemed more relaxed. We made it back to school with five minutes to spare. "Aren't you going to eat?" I asked him. "I usually don't eat during school hours. Don't worry though. I have granolas in my locker. If I feel hungry, I'll grab one of them. I promise," he told me. He walked me back into the school where Mr. Kent awaited us. "Is there a problem sir?" Zal asked coyly. Mr. Kent glared at him. "It seems that you were right about the rules. It said that a minor or an underclassman can't leave school premises without a senior of eighteen-year-old with them," he stated. "See, nothing wrong with what happened," Zal said happily. We headed off to our lockers and grabbed our books.
We met up in the middle of the adjoining hall and I went to literature, and he went to history. I knew that I shouldn't get too involved with him as a friend. Tom wasn't going to tolerate this, and things were about to get complicated. I had to let him know that being friends wouldn't end up well for me. I sat down at my table and Caleb Drell, an overweight guy with greasy rusty red hair sat down next to me. He always wore plain baggy jeans, a black ripped and stained shirt and sneakers that looked like they were about to fall apart. I made sure to sit as far away from him as I possibly could. Not just because he smelled like he didn't bathe often, but he always had an attitude and looked down on others, especially me.
He had a lot of weight he could throw around and I didn't know how to fight. He knew how to say things to make people feel worse about themselves and to get under their skin. Caleb slipped me a piece of paper. I read what it wrote. 'We are going to be tasked with creating a skit out of a play that Miss Frang has available. Unfortunately, we are to be paired together and if you make my grade suffer. Things won't be pleasant for you. I promise you that.' I didn't say anything as I read it and just sighed and nodded. Miss Frang entered the class and began the lecture.
She has an olive skin tone, dark rich black hair, slender frame, with bright mocha brown eyes. talked about the different historical plays from all over the world. Some in languages that were lost to time, others from what we all know. 'The odyssey, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet.' So many other plays existed that a lot of us may not have even known existed. She would have pamphlets discussing the plays and a little bit of facts relating to them and where to go to find them. Websites or books that would have it to view.
Caleb then turned to me and glared at me. She brought tables up at random. Caleb and I were number four to be chosen. He wanted to choose Romeo and Juliet, but they were all chosen. So, he decided for us that we would choose Hamlet. I really was interested in one of the ones that wasn't well known, but I didn't want to argue or have a fight. "Shouldn't you discuss this with your scene partner?" Miss Frang asked Caleb with a stern voice. Caleb glared at me before turning to her with a sweet smile. "Oh, he's fine with whatever aren't you?" He turned and demanded of me. I nodded, not looking at anyone.
I couldn't meet the eyes of the class, Caleb, or Miss Frang. He slapped the pamphlet onto my chest and told me that I was to check out the book from the library. During study hall we would go over it and choose a scene that would best suit us. That really meant that he would choose the scene for us. I sometimes wished I could write my own poem or play for this assignment. I went back to our table and sat down. I braced my hands on the table and tried to keep my thoughts from overwhelming me.
"So, you better find the book right away. I am not playing with this assignment,' Caleb snapped when he came back to sit down. "Actually, change of plans," Miss Frang announced. "Who in the class would like to do the assignment on their own?" she asked. No one answered right away. People looked around for a bit at each other, not sure if this was a trick question or not. "I'm asking genuinely. I want to know. Does anyone want to work on this assignment alone? You wouldn't have to perform the skit, but I would ask that you choose a scene and make it your own. I want you to keep to the original as best you can but add your own flare. You can keep to the scene and add your own spin to it or extend it at your will," she explained.
Three students raised their hands. Two girls and a male student. "Anyone else?" she asked. I slowly raised my hand. Caleb grabbed my arm tightly and squeezed. I cringed from the pressure. "You don't want to raise your hand," Caleb hissed. Mr. Drell. Would you like to release Mr. Jones or get a three-day suspension for assault against a classmate?" Caleb instantly let go of me. "Now, with that being settled. Matthew, would you like to choose to do this on your own?" I steeled myself and nodded. I have never done anything like this before. I never went against what others wanted, but this was something I felt right about doing.
"Okay, so now that we have some free tables. The other four people need to choose a partner. Come on! Move it!" she ordered. Caleb and the other three joined in the middle while the rest of the students working solo moved away. A girl, Shayna sat next to me. She chose one of the plays that I wanted to do. Miss Frang moved by me and handed me a pamphlet with the play on it that matched Shayna. "Don't even think about it," she warned. "I don't plan on anything," I assured her. "Good, we can look up the book together and choose a scene. I get to choose first," she told me. "No problem there," I agreed. She didn't say anything after that.
We spent the last few minutes of class going through all the texts doing research on the plays. There wasn't much listed on the ones we wanted to do. We would have to wait for Study Hall to find more information. The bell rang and everyone headed out. I waited for everyone to clear out before joining them. Miss Frang stopped me. "Matt, I have to ask. Is everything alright?" I didn't answer right away. "Matt?" she asked again. "Yeah, I'm fine. I promise, there's just a lot going on," I told her. She nodded, not convinced. "If there's anything you need to talk about. You can come to us teachers," she assured me.
"Thank you. I appreciate that. I'll definitely keep that in mind," I told her. Then I left without looking back. I headed to gym class and Zal met me outside the locker room. "Hey, everything okay?" he asked. I nodded. "Matt, you can talk to me," he said. I scoffed softly. "You and everyone else keeps saying that, but I don't even know if it's true or if it is, where to begin," I told him. "How about start wherever you feel you're comfortable at?" he suggested. I just shook my head. "It's not that easy," I began. "You can be my friend. You can trust me," he told me.
"It's not that simple. You are friends with Tom and the others. They won't accept and tolerate me being your friend. I told you this before," I said to him. "Yes, and I can choose to ignore this request. I can choose to be your friend and not theirs. I don't think I would want to be their friend anyways," he told me. "As much as I want to be friends and you're clearly better than them. Being my friend will only bring you down," I admitted. He walked over to me and backed me up against the back wall in between two rows of lockers.
"Why don't you let me worry about whether if you're good or bad for me," he said. I couldn't look at him. "Matt, you don't seem to have a lot of friends and I'm guessing you have always felt alone with no one really in your corner. Allow me to be in your corner. I'm totally wiling to be on your side," he said. I froze. "We have to get dressed for class," I whispered. He gave me a weird look. "You aren't inclined to confirm my statement, are you?" he asked. "No," was all I said. I began removing my shirt and jeans, slipping out of my shoes. He watched me for a couple minutes until I asked if he liked watching me change.
That made him blush a violent scarlet and turn away. He shook his head and in a rough voice said, "I wasn't watching you like that. I just don't know why you wouldn't say anything about being alone. I can see it just by talking to you. I can see it with how others interact with you. I'm not judging about anything that you have been through or gone through," he said as he went to go to his locker to get changed himself. "Zal, you have to realize. It's not something that's easy to admit to. You don't have any idea how hard it is to accept something about yourself. You say that you won't judge me for what I've been through or my life."
He nodded. "Yeah, because I won't," he said confidently. I laughed mockingly. "You may not fully condemn me. That doesn't mean you'll understand or fully accept. I'm not like the others. I'm not like the rest of the people in this school. I don't have the same upbringing as the rest of you. Being my friend isn't a good thing. I've had one true friend when I was younger. John made sure that friend didn't remain long in my life and made his family move away. I don't fully know how, but I think he said or did something with the mayor and the police. I never heard from him again," I said to him. He blinked at me without expression.
"Are you saying this to try and scare me away?" he asked curiously. I shrugged. "Well, it's the truth, but would that work?" I wondered. "No," was all he said. "Well, I figured then I would tell you why I don't have any friends. Or why people don't want to be around me much. You and Gwen are the only two that seem to have no problem and I don't want to have something happen to you guys if you try to be friends with me," I told him. He shook his head, looking perplexed. "You really think that John has power over the mayor? Gwen or my mother or me?" By this time, he finished getting dressed and we all turned to the sound of Mr. Ralt barging in through the doors. "Stop yapping and get in the gym!" he shouted.
I never understood how he could ne assisting in gym class since he's a heavy-set man. He couldn't even walk around the school without getting winded. His dark skin glistened with sweat, as if him shouting was like a workout. Zal looked over at me as if saying, 'this is our teacher?' I didn't respond, but I grinned. I knew the others weren't too fond of him either. He acted as if half of what we do was being lazy, but we all knew that he couldn't do any of it. Several of us ran the mile race in about seven minutes, some were less because they pushed themselves to the limit, but he treated those kids like they were being lazy and not trying.
One got suspended for calling him a fat burnt walrus, which I honestly felt that he deserved, but the faculty didn't appreciate the comment. They just said it was disrespectful. I knew his parents weren't fond of Ralt about that. I heard the mother mumble that Shawn wasn't wrong in his assessment. Shawn came back and remained stoic and quiet from then on out. Occasionally, he would mumble under his breath, but Mr. Ralt always found a way to get under his skin. It got so bad that Shawn ended up moving away, his parents pulling him out of school. Of course, they reamed out Mr. Kent before they went. I was jealous of Shawn for a while. I didn't have any family that would take me in. Or, I didn't have any that was willing to after my mother left.
We all went into the gym and took our assigned spots. Ralt put Zeke in the same row as me but three columns to my left. I glanced in his direction, and he looked at me and winked. I wished I had his confidence. I knew this would be another horrible moment for me. This class always seemed to cause me to feel worse about myself. I wasn't athletic and I didn't have good reflexes. "Okay, we are going to do our semester two-mile run!" Mr. Ralt shouted. The whole class erupted in groans of protest and shouts of rage. "Silence!" he shouted, and his voice sounded like he was wheezing.
I never knew anyone who could get winded so easily before. "Outside! I don't want to hear any damn complaining!" he shouted. "Outside!? It's like ten degrees!" a female student shouted out. "What did I say about complaining?" he demanded. Zal walked over to me, and we made our way out to the track course. "Is this normal of him?" Zal asked me. "Yeah. We all complain and groan and have even gone to the higher ups with a lot of parental complaints, but it always gets overturned. No one gives a damn about what he does," I explained. He shook his head.
"Well, I guess I'll have to talk to my mother about this," he whispered so the others didn't hear anything. "Are you spying for your mother?" I asked him. He gave me a dark look. "I don't like to think of it like that. I would say she's heard some stories about this school, and she wants to make sure it's running like it should. I guess if you think it's spying. Then so be it. That's what I'm doing," he said coldly. I shook my head and took a step away from him. "Zal, I wasn't condemning. I'm actually impressed. We need someone to do something about things here. No one in the past actually gave a care about us or how the teachers acted. I would say that not all of them act like Mr. Ralt. It's just I know schools have unfair aspects, but this one has always seemed more corrupt and darker than others," I said.
He nodded and calmed down a little. "Yeah, I'm starting to see that. I'm not a fan and my mother, knowing her as I do, won't tolerate this kind of treatment to continue. I wouldn't be surprised if she found a way to terminate him," he said ominously. "You think she has that kind of power?" I asked. We made it to the track field, and we were all freezing and shivering. We all huddled in groups, trying to stay warm. Mr. Ralt showed up wearing a large parka and fully dressed in warm clothes. The dark, seething glares from the students to him should have been enough to melt the ice and snow and warm up the air. Mr. Ralt didn't seem to notice.
"Yeah, I'm definitely talking to my mother. I don't know how this school has gotten away with this, but I doubt it will last," Zal muttered. I didn't react to that statement, but I couldn't help but feel glad that he sounded confident and sure. We definitely needed a change. "What are you just standing around being lazy for? Start running. Let us see if you can beat your crappy old times," Mr. Ralt shouted. I could feel Zal's hostility and rage emanating from him. "New boy, what are you waiting for?" he demanded. Zal was about to step towards Mr. Ralt and I grabbed his arm to hold him back.
"You have something you want to say? I suggest you start running. The sooner you get started, the sooner you finish and can go back inside," he snarled. "Zal, come on," I whispered. I pulled on his arm several times before he turned around and looked at me curiously. "Get going!" he said with a sneer. I yanked on his arm right away before he changed his mind. We both began taking off at a quick pace. It wasn't long before we rejoined the rest of the class and started to move past them. It wasn't long before we were in the lead. I don't know how Zal kept me moving, without getting winded. He would touch my shoulder and we would end up speeding up. It wasn't long before we completed the first mile before the others were halfway done.
"Are you trying to impress me?" Mr. Ralt demanded when we passed him. Zal said nothing. He didn't look even the slightest bit tired, and I was gasping and wheezing. I didn't think I would be able to complete this race. Zal touched my shoulder again and somehow gave me another burst of energy. We continued on like that until we finished the two-mile race. We stopped at the gate to the fence, leading into the field. Mr. Ralt just continued to glance between Zal and me like he couldn't believe we finished before everyone else.
"You both finished at the same time and under ten minutes. How the hell is that possible?" he demanded. Zal tensed next to me. I decided to speak before he got in trouble or got me in trouble. "Sir, we were both motivated by the cold to move as fast as possible. That's how we finished," I replied. He narrowed his eyes at me and then shook his head. "Head on in," he said at last. Zal gently grabbed me by the arm and dragged me towards the school. I didn't know if I should say anything, or if he would lash out at me.
He really didn't care for Mr. Ralt. I knew he wanted to lash out and I didn't want him to say something he'd regret. I let him pull me along. We reached the side door, and he pulled it open. He waited and I didn't know what he was doing. Then he gestured for me to enter. I felt dumb. He was waiting for me to go in first. I walked in and he quickly followed me. "Is there anything we can do for the others?" I whispered, afraid of the reaction he was going to do. "There's nothing we can do right now, but hopefully soon there will be something to do," he said calmly. I didn't think he would act so calm.
"You keep expecting me to lash out against you, don't you?" I couldn't look him in the eyes. "Matt, it's okay. I may not know what you're feeling or going through. I do know that what you're dealing with, and your life has traumatic experiences and that you're not accustomed to being allowed your own opinions, thoughts, and views. So, you think that any time you have one, everyone around you is going to lash out. I don' t want to hurt you. I'm doing everything I can to keep myself from lashing out when I'm pissed off when you didn't deserve it. You have a right to ask questions and be concerned, or curious about things," he said.
"I'm not sure about that. Sometimes you don't have to have thoughts about the events around you. Sometimes being quiet is a good thing. I guess I got so used to being in the shadows and quiet that I don't think there's a need to speak on everything," I replied. He chuckled softly. "I hope that someday you'll realize that people need to be challenged. You need to put them in their place. Sometimes the person needs a good smack on the head. Whether it's physical or metaphorical," he told me. "You really think that?" I asked him. He nodded. "Hey, do you think you can wait here for a few minutes while I make a phone call?" he asked.