:|:๖ศ໒K ๑f ₮ཏཛ ໒ʆศຮຮཞ๑๑ฅ:|:
:|:໒ཏศ♇₮ཛཞ 1:|:
Adam
~ Before I could hide my face, he was right there. I inwardly groaned. The classroom silent as he walked towards me, a smirk on his face. He'd been banished to the back of the classroom for disrupting class. Everyone sat silently, waiting for the tension to release from the room. It wouldn't though. The teacher was angry. Beyond angry even. More like pissed and sizzling. I tried to look away, willing him not to sit next to me. It was like this more often now. He'd get in trouble, the room quieted, and boom, he was next to me, making my life harder. I wonder why he does this? I won't ask him though. Nope, I've got too much pride for that. Not that I'd ever let him know, I try my best not to talk to him. He's the type of person I can't stand. He squished into the seat in between me and the window. I wanted to mope. I would've too. If he hadn't done that on purpose, if he hadn't been smirking at me.
I don't think I've ever really hated someone before. I think this is the first time I've ever wanted to punch someone just by looking at their face. I guess this is hate. Not that this message ever got across to him. His name was Sam. He was the pretty boy that was surrounded constantly by people. Their mouths never stopping. He made everyone want to talk, so they just talked, and talked, and talked. Making every teacher that had him want to shoot them. I understood the feeling. However much I wished I didn't.
"Hey Adam. What's it like always being in the back of the classroom?" he asked. All eyes turned to me. Exactly where I didn't like them being. I glared at him, trying to tell him to leave me alone through my mind. I hate talking. But he didn't seem to get the message, as always. I grumbled something incoherent to him, looking away from the window to my notebook. Suddenly very interested in writing down anything. Maybe everything. Everyone in the room started their low chattering again, I almost sighed with relief.
I always sat in the back, the teachers usually just forgot to move me, not that I mind. I sometimes wonder how they remember to put my grades in. Though I do find that a lot of the assignments I don't turn in show up with a score. I don't question it though, they're free handouts I'll take. God only knows I won't get them later. I can't actually see the board from back here though. In some classes I wonder why I'm even passing. But I've always maintained a B- to C+ average. Which is normal. Like so normal it's not normal. Easily forgettable normal. Which is exactly what I was. I don't mind. Nobody picks on me. Nobody really talks to me either. That's good. I don't like people. Especially people that flaunt their good looks, never shut up, and are constantly smirking. Sam was one of those people. He talks to me though, and that makes people turn to me. I'm amazed he even remembers my name. Most of my classmates didn't. Not that I minded. How often do I say that?
"What's it like to be an idiot?" I asked quietly. It was so mumbled that even I couldn't make it out. That was another of my problems, I mumbled. Badly. I tend to slur my words and talk majorly quietly. I don't know why, my parents aren't like that. They aren't loud either, just normal. Everything about me or my family is normal. I glanced over at Sam, wondering if he heard my stupid excuse for a comeback. He just looked at me. His light blue eyes staring into mine. His blond hair shining in the sun, covering his hand that his face was resting on. I stared for a moment, before a thudding took my attention and turned it back to reality. Thank you almighty mysterious thudding! Wait, what thudded? looked around the classroom. No sleeping students, no books on the floor. Mr. Johnson stood at the front of the classroom, writing something, that, quite frankly, just looked like a jumbled mess to me, on the board. I used to think I had dyslexia before I started to enjoy books, maybe just glasses.
All throughout the lesson I could feel Sam's eyes on me. I twitched occasionally, feeling my skin begin to itch under his gaze. I scratched my arm absently looking at the doodle that took over my white sheet. It was just a mess of swirls and shapes, it was just what it looked like on the board to me, but it had an oddly childish feel to it. I just stared, wondering what to do next. I chewed the tip of my pen, contemplating what was missing. I scribbled a few circles in the more larger gaps and called it good. Turning the page, I started again, as Mr. Johnson had moved on. Look like you're paying attention and they call it all good.
I had just finished the fourth one when the bell rang, halting my pen. I began stuffing my notebook in my binder when a quick hand suddenly took it. "Hey-" I started, before seeing who it was that took it.
Sam stood there, casually flipping through it. "Hey yourself, how come you didn't respond?"
I clenched my fists, I wanted to hit this boy. Students filed out of the classroom, his friends called for him, telling him to leave me behind. Something about me not being worth the attention. Yeah yeah, think whatever you want. I don't care. The teacher erased the board and headed out as well. He didn't have a 3rd or 4th period, so he didn't actually have to be in here. "I did," I stated.
He glanced up at me, an eyebrow raised. "Well, you clearly need to work on your people skills," he said. I think that was rude. That was rude right? And insulting. I'm going to assume. I can do that can't I? Is this a thing?
"Perhaps, but you need to work on keeping your mouth shut," I scowled back at him. Two can play this game buddy.
"So you do have a backbone. Interesting," he mused. No. Not interesting. I made to grab for my notebook, but he saw it coming and snatched in out of my reach. He's about a head taller than me. I wasn't tall, a little on the short side, but only slightly. But Sam was tall, no mistaking it. He wagged his finger in front of my face, saying, "no-no-no. You can't just grab stuff out of other people's hands, that's rude." Why can't this dude just leave me alone? What's so exciting about me anyway?
"Yes it is, but I don't think you should mind, considering you took it from my hands in the first place." At first he didn't react, just flipped through pages. But then he turned down to look at me, and grinned. I felt my nerves jump and I had to smooth down the goose bumps that raised on my arms. Panic laced into my hands, making my fingers go numb. "What?" I asked.
He just grinned, that infuriating grin. He slung his arm over my shoulder, moving us out the door, my notebook in his other hand. "Come with me to class and I'll tell you."
I barked a laugh, surprising him a little, I could tell. "I doubt we have two classes in a row together. I'm pretty sure that's the only class we share man. And I don't know about you, but I don't want to be late," I told him confidently. Or what I at least hoped passed off as confidently.
"Seriously?" he asked me. I scowled at him, nodding. I try not to talk when I don't have to, besides a few grumbled sad excuses for comebacks here and there. He looked at me wonderously, "seriously?" he asked again. Seriously man. Stop asking. "Wow, fine. I'll walk you to English than." How did he know I had English next? So far, math was one of two classes we had together, one on A days, one on B days. The rest I never really paid attention in. I couldn't see the board or ever know what was going on so what was the point? At least it always looked like I was listening, my citizenship grade is great.
He walked me to my classroom. At the door I tried to reach for my notebook again, he didn't pull it away, nor was his grip on it all that strong. I pulled it from his grasp and hurried inside. Not daring to mutter a single word to him. The bell rang as I sat in my seat. Mrs. Walsh, the teacher, wasn't even in here yet. I sighed in relief and flipped open my notebook and began scribbling away. In this class I did sit by the window, so I drew crude sketches of what I saw outside. When Mrs. Walsh finally did walk in, she glared at all the noisy kids in turn. Her eyes lingering on one student. I started to draw my classroom absently. It took a lot of time, and I wasn't even paying all that much attention to what went down on my sheet.
The bell rang, and I was glad for it. I am starving. I glanced down at my notebook right as I was slamming it shut. My eyes grew to probably the size of pies. Instead of the classroom like my original intent was, it was a person. The light was behind them so most was shaded, but I could tell who it was. I swallowed and put it away. Scrambling out of my seat to the lunch room. God bless lunch. I took my lunch bag from my locker, replacing it with my binder. The lunch room is full, as always, the courtyard is open and so is the field. I opened the doors to the field, not wanting to be sitting in a crowded room with a bunch of people I neither know or care about, I'm sure the friends I do have will demand I sit with them at their usual spot tomorrow. I sat against the doors to the gym, they were burning from being in direct contact with sun light all day. I could feel it on my back, it was pleasant through my clothes.
I munched on my sandwhich. When the bell rang though, I didn't want to get up. So I didn't. Nobody was out on the field with me except for a few that wandered around. But they soon wandered past me out of the field and into the building. The school was filled with cameras, but there weren't any on the back of the school. So I sat there, quietly, for a long while. I pulled out my notebook, flipping through the pages. I was munching on my apple when I almost choked. It was that picture again, it was Sam. The person didn't have a face but their head was propped up on their hand. Their hair and the shadows covered their eyes, but they wore a smirk like it was a pair of favorite pants that never seemed to get too small.
I should throw it away, it'd be better if I did. What if he took my notebook again? What if he saw it? Would I be able to live with that humiliation? I don't think I would. But I couldn't bring myself to pull it out. I sighed and I flipped to the next page and started drawing again. Maybe if I draw enough pictures around it, nobody will take another glance at it. It sounded like a pretty sound plan to me. Ha. Just used sound twice in a sentence and they meant totally different things.
Soon bells rang again along with the bustling sound of people milling about. I checked my phone. It read 2:30. School was out for the day. What happened to the time? I stuffed my binder under my arm, heading back into the building, pushing past the throng of people. "Oomph," I said as someone slammed me into a locker. I looked up, look at that, it was my locker. Thanks mysterious butt head. I pulled out my bag and shoved my binder in. I am so done. Not even going to do homework when I get back.
I checked my watch and my wallet. I smiled to myself. I have enough for a soda for the walk home. Technically, I can ride the bus, but seriously? Who would actually voluntarily sit in that thing? Well besides those who are lazy and those who live really far away. Loud obnoxious people. That's who. I like walking home when I have money though. My mom won't buy soda, something about trying to be healthy and live a vegan life, which is totally disgusting by the way. When you walk to get it though, it's like you earned it, and it always tastes better. That's what I think anyway, my little brother would beg to differ, but beg all he wants, my opinion stays.
I left my backpack in my locker and walked down the hall, slipping in between the crowded glop of a hallway. It was easy enough to get outside and away from where most of the flood was, as long as I fight my way out. School is dangerous. Risk broken noses on people's elbows everyday. Soon enough I was walking down the large hill to the gas station. My house was back a ways up on the hill but the emptiness on my back made would make the trek easy. I breathed a sigh as I stood in the doorway, the sudden cool air made all of the tension leave my back. It's way too hot to have school, to live really. My respect goes out to you desert creatures. A chill crept up my spine making my whole body shake, I used the mood breaker to move on from the door. The isles full of candy were my favorite, I smiled, picking up all kinds debating what they must taste like. The Peach O's probably taste like peaches, can't be too sure though.
I won't lie, I spent a while in front of the sodas. I heard the murmur of shift changing behind me but my attention never left the soda case. My indecisiveness was acting up making me incapable of making a decision. I started humming, knowing that this was going to take awhile. My foot tapped on the plastic foot mat that they always put in front of refrigerated crap, the ones with the holes. Deciding on a coke and a Fresca, the Fresca for now and the Coke for when ever I actually started on my homework, I went up to the counter. My groan was not stifled as I saw Sam on the registrar, a grin plastered onto his face like paint. "Doesn't your face ever hurt?"
Sam grabbed my sodas, ringing them up, "what do you mean?"
"You're constantly smirking." I swear his smile only got bigger.
He leaned on one elbow, "oh? You noticed." I don't know why but I blushed, I guess I'm not used to actually noticing people. He snickered, holding my sodas hostage, "do you know how long you took to choose 2 sodas?" I glanced at my phone, why am I falling into this? It's been at least 45 minutes since I walked in. Oh god. I knew it had been a while but I didn't think that long. "You didn't even choose one of your options, you just took both." His gaze slid from the sodas to mine, "I'm glad you didn't give in that quickly."
I glared at him, reaching for my sodas, "so?" I stomped off through the door.
"You're so cute!" he called after the door was swinging shut. What a stupid dude, I obviously didn't hear you, I thought as my cheeks burned. I didn't hear it. ~