My eyes flashed open, taking in the empty darkness. I rolled over, sheets tangling through my legs as I squinted at the clock beside me, neon red numbers burning.
The alarm clock read 6:12. Three minutes until those incessant beeps would start blaring through the room, forcing me out of bed and into the real world.
This was the worst part of waking up. For some unknown reason, my body despised me, causing me to awake just before the alarm sounded, leaving me to desperately inhale the last shreds of sleep and dread leaving for a couple of painful minutes. I'd rather be startled awake directly by the shrill notes, waking quick and easy.
Life seems to always prolong the most painful things, though.
So I closed my eyes once more, face shoved into a pillow, blankets weakly clutched to my chest. My mind was raging the repetitive battle of whether or not it was worth getting up now to avoid suffering through the alarm, or if staying in my dreamy bubble until forced otherwise was better.
As usual, by the time I’d drawn close to making a decision it had been made for me by the cheap plastic on the table beside me. Groaning, my hands fumbled blindly in the dark, eventually pressing the side of the electronic, causing the ear splitting noise to cease.
I threw back my blankets, legs clumsily falling over the edge of the mattress, arms pushing me up. I grabbed a towel off the floor, leaving the lights off, knowing that the towel bare bathroom would sufficiently blind me with its bulbs soon enough.
___
An hour and a half later, I was shutting off the ignition of my beat up car, Dammit fading out as I eyed the school before me with distaste. Twenty minutes ‘till class started, unnecessary extra time.
It wasn’t even that I didn’t want to be late for my first day of junior year, no. I did this every day, every single one of the nine months between already anticipated summers. It was an odd quirk, but I’d rather be ridiculously early to everything than five seconds late.
I swung open the car door, hoisting myself out with a grip on the roof before swinging my backpack over one shoulder, hand ruffling my two tone hair. I knew I should leave it alone, had already spent an eternity styling the black and bleached blond section to perfection, that messing with it would only ruin the effect. I couldn’t help it, though. Nervous habit.
Kicking the door closed with my black Nikes, I started towards the grand entrance, eyes flicking over the non associates of mine dotting the parking lot. No friends in sight.
I tugged the hem of my blue v-neck as I strode through the doors. Mu home room class was securely tucked into the pocket of my blood flow reducing black skinny jeans, and I kept its location in mind as I searched for a familiar face.
After wandering aimlessly down the main hall, occasionally throwing a ‘Hey’ at someone who called my name, I spotted Zack leaning against a locker. Finally.
“Hey man,” I shouted, still twenty feet away from the muscular boy. He drew his gaze from Sandy, ex-girlfriend/friend-who-happened-to-be-a-girl, eyeing me critically.
“Your hair.” he responded, arm reaching to tentatively poke at the blond section.
I’d just gotten it dyed two days ago, wasting away the last of my break on hair improvements and mindless internet surfing, backpack packed and homework finished back in July.
Rolling my eyes, I kicked a foot onto the wall beside me, ignoring the fact that the door the room A4 could very easily swing straight into my face as I stated, “Yes, Zack, I have hair.”
“No shit,” the boy responded, eyes trailing after Sandy as she skipped off to talk to one of her girlfriends, Cassadee. The pair was clad in short shorts and t-shirts, hopelessly clinging to the remaining shadows of summer. Their attire was a bit scarce for August 24, but there was no chance of talking sense into those girls. Or any girls.
“Where’s your home room? “ Zack continued, hand snaking into the pocket of his baggy jeans.
“Uh,” I began, mind scrambling for the room number, unhelpful fact that Mr. Gralen was the teacher spinning, “H6? Yeah, H6.”
“Huh,” he grunted, eyes scanning his slip, “I’m in T1. Wait, where the fuck even is that?”
We stared at each other blankly, dead confused as to why two boys who had been going to Dulaney for two years didn’t know where one of its rooms was.
“Isn’t the gym part of the T wing? Probably there.” I stated, image of the green plaque pronouncing room numbers posted next to our locker room doors focusing in my head.
“Right. Well, shit. That’s opposite sides of the school.” Zack complained, starting off down the hall without direction just as the first bell rang. Ten minutes until we were late.
“Guess we have to split up then. See you!” I called over my shoulder, envisioning the art room I was headed towards for the beginning of the day. The year. Damn, was I excited.
___
Fifth period, gym. I was standing on the tennis courts behind the gym, hopelessly trying to figure out where the fuck Ginnani’s class was supposed to meet.
Eyes flickering over the other students mulling around, wasting away the remainder of our five minute passing period, I spotted a familiar brunette. Alex Gaskarth.
The boy was in my English class last year, and he had been another half acquaintance. I’d taken note of his existence, eyes scanning the blond streaked caramel strands daily. Not even in a creepy way; I wasn’t checking Alex out.
No, he’d been just another attractive face dotting the monotonous days. Though I’d spent a few English periods, mind hopelessly unfocused on grammar work, wondering what his favorite Blink song would be, and, more importantly, how he’d look without that shirt on.
But I was a teenage boy, and couldn’t help where my thoughts strayed. Honestly, though, we’d never really had a conversation. Buy hey, the boy seemed nice enough, and I was completely lost. So I crossed the courts, calling, “Hey, Alex!”
His head spun around, honey eyes flicking towards my face, stubble bordered lips splitting into a smile. Alex sauntered over, meeting me halfway, gray skinny jean clad hips swaying, blue and white checkered flannel fluttering by the sides of his white v-neck. My day dreams were justified.
“Jack! Do you know where Ginnani is?” he asked, halting when we were face to face, other students chattering away in the background, sorting out their classes and rooms.
“Crap, no. I was hoping you knew.” I replied, shaking my head, eyes inhaling the blond chunk falling into his right eye, fingers aching to sweep it away.
I hooked my thumbs around the straps of my backpack, restraint intact as he swore quietly.
“Well, let’s walk. I’m sure we’ll run into someone else in our class eventually.” Alex suggested, head tilting towards the edge of the courts, fence cutting off the swimming pool. I nodded in response, taking off together towards the basketball courts on the other side.
My mind flashed back to last period, a swish of blue interrupting the bubble Rian and I had constructed around us, sufficiently shutting out the rest of our art class and teacher. She’d said something about clay – don’t know, don’t particularly care.
But that whoever from the corner of my eye suddenly seemed awfully familiar, so I randomly asked, “Do you have art fourth?”
Alex blinked up at me, steps slowing as we reached our destination, which was deserted. Probably the wrong spot, then.
“You stalking me, Barakat?” he asked, eyebrow quirking as the corner of his lips curled up, smirk betraying the empty accusation. I laughed, rolling my eyes at him.
“Mhm, I was hiding in your closet all summer. No, we’re in the same class.” I said, spinning back around, frowning as the late bell rang. They wouldn’t mark us tardy on the first day. Well, I hoped not.
“Huh. How did I not notice that?” the brunette frowned, put off by the odd occurrence and fact that we were still clueless as to where to find our teacher. It was an unfortunate situation.
I shrugged, spotting Kellin in the distance, who I could have sworn said he was in my gym class a couple hours ago during Math.
Heading towards the dark haired boy, I replied, “I’ve got no clue. Same way as me, I guess.”
Alex hummed, hands shoving into the pockets of his jeans. I forced my eyes away, half waving as Kellin called us over.
Just as Alex and I reached the other boy, our forty something year old physical education teacher appeared, striding over. Gym teachers never found it necessary to be on time for their own classes, not that the students minded. It gave us more time to talk and generally bullshit around between classes.
Actually, that continued during gym. No one took it seriously, As practically handed out on a silver platter. But still, we liked to at least put up the pretense of going into learning mode.
Ginnani finally reached us, directing the twenty something students wandering around towards our proper roll call spots. Alex threw me a grin at me as he skipped off towards the middle of the crowd, our class being sorted by last names. The year ahead was bound to be interesting, to say the least.
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THIS IS ACTUALLY REALLY IMPORTANT PLEASE READ IT. Ok so this story is going to contain heavy self harm and go deep into the detail of it, and there will be major triggers. It starts in a few chapters. So if that will be an issue for you, please DO NOT read this story. I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me. This isn’t nearly as important but for anyone who cares, this isn’t going to be as Jalex-y as my other stories. Instead of being focused on their relationship, it’ll be about Jack’s life. That’s all I can think of, so please vote and comment and tell me what you think of the beginning.
xoxo
Rose