The whole weekend is spent watching Malcolm in the Middle reruns and listening to music. On Monday morning, I wake up dreading the day as I lay listening to the agonizing sound of the alarm—the most hated sound on the planet.
I roll myself out of bed and get in the shower, from shower to breakfast, from breakfast to bus, from bus to school. I sleep through English when I’m supposed to be reading The Great Gatsby, I’ll read it at home tonight. I don’t want to go to lunch, I know Benjamin will hunt me down and talk to me for some god forsaken reason.
I decide to get myself a cheeseburger instead of a very sad and wilted salad wrap then make myself comfortable in my usual seat at my usual table. I’m halfway through my overcooked, tragically cheese-less burger before Benjamin makes himself comfortable next to me.
He’s quiet today, though. Absorbed in his wrap, he keeps his mouth shut unless he’s taking a bite and I thank the holy entity for the silence. We eat, he follows me to my spot once we finish and he pulls out a book. To Kill a Mockingbird, of course he reads classics. He seems like that kind of arrogant bastard.
Jesus Christ, I don’t even know the guy. Why the hell am I such an asshole?
I take notes as Mr. Stewart drawls on about quadratics, y=ax2+bx+c, y=a(x+h)2+k, got it. He goes on a tangent about something completely unrelated so I tune out and doodle in the corner of the page. For two seconds, I zone out and scribble.
Two.
Seconds.
“Mister Hale, what are you doing?” I swear to god I nearly snap my pencil.
“Taking notes.” I say through gritted teeth.
“It looks like you’re coloring.”
I roll my eyes.
“Go to the office, Mister Hale.”
Michael and his posse hoot and holler. I snap my pencil, sweep everything off the table, including stuff that isn’t mine. I toss what is mine into my bag and storm to the office.
Why did I do that? What the hell is wrong with me today?
I sit on the benches outside the office and contemplate the question. I run my hands through my hair, I’m so fucking embarrassed. I can’t believe I did that.
I can’t believe I did that.
I cannot believe I did that.
I’m not called into Mr. John’s office or into Ms. Linley’s. I sit on the bench until the final bell rings, then I get my ass up and trudge to the bus. I rest my head against the window on the way home and feel sorry for myself.
I don’t feel like driving to the desert so I lay in my room with the door closed and the blinds drawn. Alton lays by my side and does his best to comfort me. It works enough to make me get up and put a Breaking Benjamin CD in. I wallow in self misery until Mom calls me for dinner.
I sit down and eat my roast beef in silence.
“Anything interesting happen at school, Leo?” Mom asks.
“Nope.”
“Did you go to the desert today?” Dad asks.
“Nope.”
“Are we going to watch Good Eats tonight?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“We’re watching it without you.” He’s trying to bribe me.
“Okay.”
He humphs and everyone's quiet. I go back to my room and decide to stop being a pathetic, depressed loser. I put in Disturbed to make myself angry. Instead of being miserable, I fume over Mr. Stewart’s overreaction, and then his fucking indifference when all the other douchebags started causing a ruckus.
Causing a ruckus? What kind of a thought is that? Could you describe the ruckus, sir? I guess I’m turning into Brian Johnson. I sigh, this day has not gone well. I’m dreading school tomorrow. I don’t want to go back into Mr. Stewart’s class.
The week slips slowly by, I stay quiet and obedient and Mr. Stewart leaves me alone. On Friday, during lunch, Benjamin speaks up for the first time all week.
“Is it okay if I stay sitting here?”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “Are you going to leave if I stay no?”
He shrugs. “If you really want me to.”
“This is a free country, man. And this is a high school cafeteria.”
“So you don’t care that I stay?”
“Why do you care what I think? You haven’t cared up until now.” I’m being an ass but I try to keep it light-hearted. I’m not good at being light-hearted.
“I contacted you because you were the only kid sitting alone. I thought you were new so I thought you might appreciate the company.”
I laugh. “You contacted me? Are you an alien or something? Contacting the earthlings.”
He laughs too. “Whatever.”
“I’m not new, been here my whole life.” I suddenly realized this has been the longest conversation I’ve had in quite a while. I haven’t talked to anybody like this in a very long time, even my parents or brother.
He’s quiet for a few minutes. “Have you ever read this?” He taps his books, it’s Lord of the Flies today.
“Nope.” I tell myself to continue the conversation, to not be an ass. How do I continue a conversation like this? “What’s it about.”
He laughs. “C’mon, it’s a classic. You have no idea what it’s about?”
“I don’t read much.” I say it with more aggression than I intend, but who does he think he is? Why would I want to spend my time with my nose in some old book?
Instead I spend my time staring at walls.
“Well, it’s about these boys who’s plane crashes on an island during World War Two. They’re stuck on the island for a year or so, by themselves with no adults. There’s fruit and pigs on it, so they don’t starve to death, and a freshwater spring. This one boy decides he’s going to kill pigs and feed the rest of them, he ends up going crazy and spearing the pig’s head on a stick. A couple of the boys are killed, they burn the island down, and almost kill this one boy but he’s saved by the Marines who get there just in time, of course.”
“Sounds fucked up.”
“Very fucked up, one of the cruelest books I’ve read.” He chuckles. “And it’s about little kids.”
“It’s pretty sick to take enjoyment in that.”
He shrugs. “It’s a great book.”
We finish our lunches and he follows me to my spot by the doors. “Where you from?” He talked about seeing Korn in Fresno, but there’s something about him that tells me he isn’t from California.
“Tennessee.”
“Wow, big leap. Why were you in Fresno?”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Right, Korn.” He laughs. “I have a lot of family in Fresno so I used that as an excuse to go out there and see them.”
I nod. Cool. The bell rings after a minute or so and spares us too much awkward silence. I head off to French which I do enjoy. Learning a new language is awesome. Chouette. Unfortunately, seventh comes around like it does every day. I plop down and, as soon as the bell rings, Mr. Stewart announces that we will be having a quiz today. Not terrible, I’m pretty confident in my ability to convert the vertex form of a quadratic into standard form.
The quiz is easy, I finish up, turn it in in the box at the front of class and decide that I’m going to read The Great Gatsby, because I want to read ahead. I don’t like reading a whole lot but it’s better than sitting around doing nothing. Unless I’m at home, in which case I quite enjoy doing nothing.
I am being a good student right now. I have done all of the work I had to do in my current class and am now being especially productive by doing work for another class. I’m not goofing off or being an overall nuisance like the other jack off’s in this class. Yet, I am, as usual, singled out for abuse by Mr. Stewart.
“Mister Hale, what are you doing?”
“Reading for English.”
“Ah, it isn’t math, then.”
“Nope, I finished my test and all my assignments are turned in. I have no math to do.”
He hums and I hate that stupid, condescending noise. “You should have told me, I can give you something.”
Then I do something I have never done before. “It doesn’t look like they’re doing math.” I point to Michael’s table. “I hope you give them something to do, as well.”
Mr. Blake’s face contorts into what I imagine the devil's face to look like, a look of pure hatred and evil. “It is not your place to decide what other students do, Mister Hale.”
“It’s not your place to choose favorites. All students should be given the same opportunity to learn. I’d hate for them to get an incomplete education because you didn’t provide them with enough work.” I’m getting cocky, I’m going to be in serious trouble. The moment the words leave my lips I want to take them back. Why have I been so snide lately?
“Go to the office.” I do not swipe anybody else’s stuff off the desk today nor do I throw a fit and storm out. Today, I put my stuff in my bag and calmly walk out of the room. I don’t go to the office, instead I sit on the benches outside the school and wait for the bus. It doesn’t take long, there was only around ten minutes of class left, anyway.
I go home in a bad mood like I usually do, I get in my truck and sit in the driver's seat. I don’t go anywhere, I don’t even start it or roll the windows down. I just sit there. It takes me longer than it should to realize Vinny’s car is parked in the driveway next to my truck.
I sigh and go inside, I get to my room without anyone noticing I came in, they’re all in the garage.
I hate the garage. It used to be just Dad who would hang out there with his friends, Mom would usually be out there too. Around the time I turned fourteen and Vinny was seventeen he started hanging out in the garage too. It kind of feels like this club I never got invited to, like my whole family and their friends go out there to get away from me and I’m left in here alone. All the time. If Vinny is here, they will all undoubtedly be out there. The only time I get to see them is if they have to come inside to use the bathroom.
I turn on Breaking Benjamin because I’m feeling depressed and apathetic. Alton comforts me as he always does, sometimes it’s okay to admit you love your dog more than the rest of your family. It certainly feels like he loves me more than they do so why shouldn’t I love him more?
I know that’s not true, they love me. I’m just a hard person to be around sometimes. I’m a total downer, I’m not very funny but I try to be anyways. I’m incredibly awkward and half the time I don’t even know how to talk to my own family.
Fuck, man. This whole feeling sorry for myself thing is getting old.
I’m tired of being miserable but I never do anything about it.
“Rain” plays and I hum the tune, Alton whines at me and scooches closer to my face. He needs out, he’ll wait a few minutes, though. I want to listen to this song.
It ends and I get up to let Alton out, it only takes him a moment to do his business, then he’s ready to come in. Vinny just happens to venture inside while I’m in the living room waiting for Alton.
“Sup.” He says, heading to the bathroom.
I nod at him. I think about my conversation with Benjamin, the most meaningful conversation I’ve had in months. And this is the extent of most of the conversations I have with my own brother. I go back into my room and replay my CD. When Mom says it’s time for dinner, I don’t leave my room. When she checks on me, I say I’m not feeling well and I’m not hungry. She buys it.
I’m left alone.
I replay the CD.
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