Alex
New start, Fresh beginning.
Smile a lot and be friendly.
I've been repeating the above statement like some kind of mantra.
My day was supposed to go as planned. To step up on my new high school in a passively lame town that was even camouflaged by the National map because of how small and useless it was. Hold head up and walk casually like a sweet guy- I revised my ideology, gentle in nature and calm in posture- a bonus. And prove to your mother that she can trust her son, have faith that he can change for the better.
A must.
Changes are for humans, not monsters.
Hence I conclude and admit- subconscious was a mean little brat at times. But I know I can do this. I have no other option. Neither was I here to seek an alternative. Gave up on that a long while ago.
But all deflated as soon I stepped inside the building. A public school that I have never been part of. Lack of uniforms or any form of dress code for the matter across farthest of the vicinity and brick walls with the crack on it caught my attention. I felt out of place.
A fresh start, a new beginning.
I reminded myself of it. The life I lived was the initial reason what got me in here. And this wise I am not messing up. I can't afford to.
Choose wisely, the students who I talk with and even hope of making acquaintance will have maturity and kindness in them. I am well versed with all bark no bites.
Kindness.
Such an organic dialect. Like a tree, it spreads its roots and strengthens the bonds of happiness within you and among the people you know.
What bullshit!
The twenty-first century has no niche for trashy expressions which might only yield you a bunch of people walking over and spitting as they pass.
My seventeen years of midget biography reveals a boy with a stoic persona. A face with why the hell are you talking with me? frown brought in a package of hot girls and actions to the point of renting rooms in a calm and serene environment, such as hospitals. Sometimes for me and sometimes for my artwork.
Apparently wielding heartless humans as a canvas was prohibited in our nation.
Yet men in their retirement rule the country for hobby.
Sour and tasteless, it was an aspect I felt when any girl, be it the most sought-after bachelorette or personality ever wanted to link herself with me because of my name and reputation. At least the females dumb enough to think of my weird stressed gesture as a handsome feature and deep salvation on the subject of humanity.
Sometimes I wished to strangle myself with the tie they would compliment my outfit on. I hated it. How fake they were, I was no way even near to the tag of man whore, and neither I have anything against the opposite sex. I do appreciate the attention.
But I might be labeled as on as soon as one lays eyes on me.
Power and manipulation. I don't do or use them both. But I know that's what they see me as. I was just a symbol. A piece they can admire, the risk to try their hand on and leave when they realize how destructive and dark it gets when I let them in. Just a morsel. Even an illusion.
That's all it takes to scare them away.
But half a dose of Eau de perfume, purring tones in-ear and miserly consent regards to articles of clothing is even a bit too much for a boy like me.
I cringe inside. But don't show it.
A student- probably of my age waves at me. The leather jacket rough at the edges and dog chain signifies confidence and an attempt at manliness.
Teenage is a bitch. It's an age where I thought I knew everything and a chunk of advice from elders went on deaf ears. I thought I was becoming a man, well until the day I fell. Fell hard.
But did I ever have someone to advise me?
I still was falling. Every minute, every second more as I tried to be someone I was not.
"Hey man, new here?" he said jogging up to me as a tall blonde followed him.
Not the crowd I was surveying for.
But. Smile and be friendly.
"Yeah. I am. A senior actually" I nod.
"So am I" he declared showcasing his block of teeth.
"I was heading for history. And I think I am pretty much lost" I accept defeat. After wandering the corridors and being browsed by swarms of people I finally decided to get help.
"I have a history as well next, let me get you there. By the way, I am Tyler. Tyler Wren" he said.
"What's your name platinum boy" the girl with her hands folded across her chest asks. The pink bandana embracing her forehead with glittery silver outline did a very good job of making me internally wonder how can one expect to look good in that?
Too bright for school. Too much of everything.
My brows lift at the term she had employed by summoning what I believe is her entire wit to address me with.
Platinum boy?
Meanwhile I admitted, accepted that my bleached blonde clusters were a stunner and blue eyes, a prized compliment. But this name was straight out of a hollow shell. That would most certainly be her brain.
I am a scholar while sharing the same air with her.
I shake Tyler's hand instead "Alex White."
Acknowledging them I smile, in truth I desperately craved a calm drag of cigarette to lure away the uninvited apprehension that seeped in.
They were so different.
Every single one of them under this roof.
All so strange to me. And I, to them.
The way they watched me in silence for a dedicated minute warned me that they must be reckoning the same about me.
Heck, I used to be odd among the people who were like me. What were the odds here?
The boy sighs inwardly, his bold brows furrows and he smiles as if he was doing his best to remain generous, with his sturdy masculine hand he motions me towards the class slowly progressing to chat about how unfair was last nights match and how he thinks the final kick should have gone. I reckon, having no clue about it.
It's idiotic how the stereotypes nutshells the gender. Like for instance, I could watch Puss in the boots on reruns for a whole day rather than an arena filled with uselessly screaming audience over sweaty, six-pack bearing, ball passing player.
Again, I am told that people are entitled and free to have opinions. Just like how I have of them.
But I can politely ask him to lock his chatter up, there must be a certain way to make him quit. But-
-But since I am a nice guy, I pretend to deeply concentrate on Lionel Messi performing something he shouldn't be performing as we enter the classroom.
Once seated my eyes roam around. Scrutinizing each of them as they strived to occur as if they were not examining me out.
Despite my constant trials, an unwanted memory surfaces from past. The voice cleaner than the image of him. The image- couldn't be more vivid.
' If you wanna check out, do it. Never hide it. It makes things more awkward when you are caught'
Lee. My friend used to chant it to himself as he would cowardly try his luck getting a girl for himself for every year's winter ball that I used to skip.
'Doing it discreetly makes you appear more creepy than you already are, if you are caught might as well make it look as if you know what you are doing. It's a free countr'.
I would also ignore his other clauses. But today I see it, the reason. It indeed appeared comical.
But in the heart of the moment entered the class was quite an unusual sight in school. But coming from a boy who had never been to a public high school has no criteria to judge people.
But.
The girl with a maroon hoodie partially covering her head as the white earplugs stuck out from the side, I know there wasn't a positive aura around her. It's not how is she looked. But she she was looked at.
By students.
By gender same as her as if she was a nuisance.
By boys different than me, as if she was a joke.
She walks to the back of the class and takes a seat at the extreme left. Tossing the backpack to the floor with a mild thud.
It was hard to see her face as streaks of naturally straight brunette hairs curtained it. The edges of her hair appeared to have been recently trimmed. Or they were just damp from shower.
I am an unintentional creep. But my mind can't retain itself from picking up the slightest of transitions in things that interests me.
In this wise, her.
So I listen to Lee. I check her out.
Politely.
Confidence is my forte, but the girl seems to be giving that part of my arrogance a hard time as I kept stealing side glances at her. Twice a peek in one minute. Pathetic.
And I haven't even seen her face yet.
Yet I couldn't look away from her. And then it happened. She angled her head to the window on her side, leaning on the seat for comfort she rests her head on the two-way glass panel and blankly stared out.
The eyes. Grey. A storm.
It doesn't rage. But are calm and frozen in a thought. It only made me wonder more of how it might look while in anger or passion.
No effort was made to highlight her features. Yet she was gifted. A natural. Just plain, simple, and beautiful.
I noticed she sparsely granted the contact of eyes towards anyone. I can bet she hasn't realized my presence either. Not that my presence is of utmost importance, but the logical factor asserts that new students in this town was a rare sight.
And add on to that I am a sight to behold.
As quote and read by the social media comments from the academies newsletter handler.
"Who's that?" I ask Tyler nudging him on the shoulder slightly with my elbow.
He was confused for a second of whom I was edging at.
"That one, the girl at the last" I deducted.
He saw her and cracked up as if reminded of some inside hoax.
"That my friend, is the freak of this school. She crafts the art of weirdness".
There was venom in his sick smile.But also distant tinge in his eyes as he saw her. I may not know the whole story but I know for a fact he disgusted me.
Don't forget Alex. Once you were among them too.
I wanted to gag, bend over a sink and pull the gut of my traits out by it neck and set it on flames , but the teacher entered and took something that almost felt like a class, so I count my breaths and the number of desks in classroom. None seem to pay heed to the lesson and the teacher doesn't seem to care. The whole time I couldn't help but turn back and look at her as if an invisible puppet string was attached to my neck forcing me to sneak a glace.
She was not listening to the class either. She was far more occupied as she gave her undivided interest to the sky outside the window.
I wonder what her name is.
Also, I decided to ask her after the class ends and maybe ask her for help with the directions to the next class as well, it might buy me some time to talk with her.
"Is there a new student in our class?" the teacher's voice boomed across, startling a few drowsy heads in the process. He hates the profession, I discerned that much.
"I am the one" I nod standing up.
"Would you like to introduce yourself?" He asks unsure.
In any other circumstances, I would have declined. But I wanted her to notice me. Odd as it sounds.
"Yeah sure." I pause.
"I am Alex White and I am looking forward to making new friends" our eyes finally met. The grey, a slight silver. A bit brighter. She had that little flicker of reaction that passed as if it was not even there.
I smiled at her, hoping that it came out to be genuine and not forced or awkward.
I don't know what it was about her, not a captivating beauty neither one wise acquaintance. But the moment bell rang with the awful shrill ,I know what I wanted to and had to do to achieve it.
Smile and be-friend her.
***