Lucas' POV.
Deep breathe. I inreale and shake my whole body, jumping a little on my spot as I make myself ready to face the one thing that scared me the most. Except actually having a conversation with my dad.
Looking at the woodensign right before my eyes, I inhale one more time, gathering courage before I place my hand above the doorhandle and open it. The door wasn't old, but it still managed to make a sound as I opened it whole.
Mr. Cory Matthews.
His eyes fler up from the desk to meet my terrified ones. I gulped and stepped inside. "Hello, sir."
The face he was making was telling me he did not want my company now nor ever. His eyes were hardly open, mouth tight in a thin line and his jaw was ticking. I guess Riley was right about the stages he went through. I'm just not sure he actually reached accaptance.
"Mr. Friar," he slowly raised up from his seat, eyes glued to mine. He's still on stage anger, definetly. "What a...delighted surprise to see you here."
"Same goes to you, sir."
He tilted his head to the side, eyes not leaving my face. "I'm always here."
I let out a nervous laugh, scratching my neck, thinking about my next words carefully. "Right, you're the teacher."
"You'd know that if you ever cared to show up to class."
"I–"
"Oh, no, no, no," he rounded the desk and stopped when he was just in front of me, making the stare even more uncomfortable than it was before, "don't worry, Mr. Friar. I understand completely."
"You do?" I ask, baffled.
He nods, "Mm, yes, I do."
"Wait," I put my hands in front of me, furrowing my brows as I tried to read his expression. "What exactly is it that you know?"
He heaves a sigh, "Mr. Friar–"
"Lucas." I correct him. I hated when people were beign formal with me, calling me Mr and all. Especially teachers. And Mr Matthews knew that.
"Lucas." He corrects, "We have had talks since you were in fifth grade, am I correct?"
I nod. "Yes." It was true. I've had talks with Mr. Matthews after school, three times a week, ever since fifth grade. It was a tough year when my dad doubled his drinking from two bottles to four a day. Teacher noticed I didn't concentrate as much in classes and my grades started to crumble down. So, one day the English teacher decided to take me to Mr. Matthews. Apparently, people went to him when they needed advice about anything; life, trouble, family, love and etc. And in the beginning it helped, it really did. But then puberty kicked in and instead of going to him three times a week, I skipped two times and if I felt like going once a week, I would. Ever since high school started, I stopped going completely. No more sessions, no more talks about my feelings and life problems, daddy issues.
"How's your dad?" His question brought me out of my own mind and I could smell the beer in my nostrils, the blue-ish and purplie-ish bruises stung on the side of my stomach from yesterdays' beatup.
"He's good, than–"
"Don't lie." He cut me off, his eyes boring into my skull. He was reading me. Trying at least.
I broke eye contact with him, my eyes falling on the pile of papers he had been sitting with on his desk. "I cam here because I wanted to talk about me and Ri–"
"You and Riley?" He cut in and I closed my eyes. It was starting to piss me off. "How's that going by the way? You treating her right?"
"Yes." I say through gritted teeth.
"Huh," he looks behind me, scratching his chin, "good. Very good. And how about you?"
"What about me?" I exhale, trying to control my anger.
"How are you controling it, Lucas?" He asked in a low and calm voice.
I close my eyes slightly, inhaling deeply. "I don't know w–"
"What I'm talking about?" he cuts in again and this time i couldn't hold it back.
"Will you stop fUcking cutting me off?!" I broke out, my fists were curled up and I was breathing heavily, panting out of anger.
He didn't see to be bothered with my sudden outburst. Instead, he just watches me, waiting for me to continue. I know this because I used to burts out in the same way in our "sessions". He never jumped in when I did so, never cut me off and would never not let me take my anger out on him.
"I'm not doing this again," I say in an attempt to keep my voice as steady and low as possible. It was in the middle of the day and the hallways were filled with students. I didn't need them to eavsdrop on us. And I sure as hell didn't want Riley to know about the sessions I've had with her dad for several years.
He shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not making you do anything."
"You're expecting me to believe you?" I lift my sight to meet his eyes. I felt like I was back in the old days, the days I was careless and the days peoples' feelings ment nothing to me. The days before Riley. I felt the same venom in my mouth as I used to do and it felt disgusting to think about the old me.
"I'm not expecting anything from you, Lucas." He assured me without making a move towards me nor backwards. "I'm simply showing you that anger is never in control, even if you believe it is, it can slip as easily as soap in your hand."
"I don't need this, Mr. Matthews." I shook my head, scared to actually go back to my old ways. I was scared that I will do the same thing I did in 8th grade. "I don't want this." I say sternly.
"You're suffocating yourself." He continued. "You're building up those walls again and it won't help you in any way, Lucas. It will only bring you back to how you used to be and destroy the you you are now."
"You don't know anything about the new me."
He chuckles, moving towards his desk and taking a seat on the side of it. He looks up and gives me a small smile. "It may surprise you, but, I actually do."
I didn't say anything. He was just trying to make me lose it again. And the last thing I wanted to do was to go back to that.
"You see," he starts, clearing his throat before continuing, "there is this thing about people that interests me. It's this thing about them not knowing how much they can mean for others that makes me so much more interested in reading them. And there is this story, about a boy. Do you mind.." he gestures towards a seat behind me.
I hesitated but took a seat.
"Thank you." He nods and clears his throat before he contiues. "There's this boy. He is stuck in a crowded room, yet that's not what really bothers him. The thing about this boy is that, the crowd in his mind is what really bothers him, what is really suffocating him. You see, a persons mind can be the real issue and can be the reason why some may close off and some open up. This boy built a wall, surrounding himself with what's in his mind. Now the wall, well, he built it so high he cannot escape it. And even if he wanted to, he couldn't. No, he was so defeated by his mind he couldn't find the strenght to climb over it nor to break it down."
"Days passes by, weeks went by and soon even years. Now, this boy was still stuck there but his actions changed. He knew very well that he could not for a minute climb the wall he build, so he didn't. Instead he choses to walk in circles. Don't ask me why, I still don't know the reason for why he took such a stupid decision. But he did," he scratches his throat, taking a small pausa before continuing, "and I'm not sure he knows why either."
"You see, people makes decisions based on what they don't feel. He didn't feel loved, he didn't wanted nor did he feel the respect a young boy should receive. From both parents and other elders. My theory on his choise of action is this; he didn't feel those things and decided to go against all whom did not give him the respect, love and care he wanted and needed. It may sound strange to you, hearing this from my point of view, and not seeing this from the boys own eyes. But it gets better, believe me." He was looking at the ground, an index finger lifted half-way in the air. I furrowed my brows, a little lost in what he was trying to teach me. But nevertheless, I let him continue.
"A girl steps in his way. Cliché, right? A troubled boy with a rough life, changed by the little miss perfect girl? Yeah. But it's not really how it goes. Now, this girl, she's the right opposite of him; she's down to earth, kindhearted, a warm breeze in the summer, a new grown flower in April. Sounds lovely, yeah?" He lifted his eyes to meet mine.
"I..uh...I guess." I ask, rather unsure if the question was towards me or just asked into thin air.
He nods, "Now they meet in a slightly cliché way and we are going to jump to the ending, which is very much a heartchanger. You see she falls in love with his broken side, with the him whom no one wanted. The him no one loved. The him no one respected. She fell in love with his broken side. She loved him. She respected him. But most importantly – she wanted him. Not only that, but, she also needed him to feel complete with herself. He loved her. He wanted her. He respected her. He needed her, but, here comes the sad part – he did not realize that until it was too late."
"Life throws things our way, Lucas," he stood up and walked behind his desk and stopped in front of the board, "and we must learn not to dodge them, but to face them with strenght, in a heroic way. The things life throws at us are like boomerangs – we dodge them once, get hit by them the next time. If we catch it, it can't hit us down. Meaning, we can learn from the mistakes we did and we can re-do it, only if we are given a second chance by the individual we hurt."
"Why are you telling me this, Mr. Matthews?" I cut right in his little story of heroicness and he stopped to look at me with careful eyes.
"What did you take from the story, Lucas?" He answeres with a question. Classic Matthews.
I heave a sigh, "The boy was lonely and a girl helped him get his mood up and then he hurt her."
He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "You didn't read between the lines." I hear him whisper under his breathe. He opened his eyes and walked up to my desk. "Who are you?"
I furrow my brows, "Excuse me?"
"What formed you into the person you are today?" He asks again, "Who is the boy sitting behind this desk?" He places his hands on top of the dess, eyes still on me.
"Take this story with you," he starts after a moment of silence, "re-think it, put some tought into it. Read between the lines. Learn from it. Take the lesson I tried to learn you and tell me what you learned when we get back after winter break."
"But–"
He stood up straight. "Class dismissed." And with that he walked over to the door, opened it and walked outside, leaving the door wide open.
I sat on my seat, blinking several times.
"What the hell?"
__________The End Of Chapter ThirtyOne.__________
Short chapter, but meaningful for the upcoming chapters in this book.
Long time, no seen. I've been bad with updating chapters and to top that with something even worse, I have forgotten my planning for this book. I'm trying to replan it in the same way as I did before summer break. Hopefully, I will succeed.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter an please leave a comment on what you thought about Cory's little storytime with Lucas.
IF YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER;
Like, Comment & Share!