Chapter 1: Introduction

Various warnings: this story contains swearing (the protagonist is a serious cusser)... and eventual unhealthy relationships (though I'm pretty sure the title/description filled you in). Also contains a little ity bit of violence and gore (again, the title should be warning enough lol).

“BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.BEE-SLAM.” My fist came crashing down onto my alarm clock. I grumbled and rolled his body out of the bed, landing on the ground.

“Uuuugh.” I groaned, rubbing my back. I shifted my eyes to the clock; 8:30, I had missed the first period. “Whatever, it was just P.E. anyways.” I sighed, running my fingers through my jet-black hair lazily.

I am a pretty carefree guy; I don’t really care about most of the normal things teens cared about. Where grades are concerned, I do the work, but never really study for tests. I give a crap about popularity, and it's overrated anyway. The only things I really care about are my friends, mom, and I guess school.

“Gotts be fresh, gotta go downstairs.” I murmured to myself. Yes, those were lyrics from ‘Friday’, but NO, I did not like it (it was too damn catchy and never left your head).

I lazily went to my closet and threw on a plain blue T-shirt and black jeans; I was too lazy to be stylish that day. You might be thinking ‘why would a guy care to be stylish?’ Well the answer to that is simple: I am gay. But I’m casually chilling in the closet; it would be too much of a pain if people besides my best friends knew that I was gay.

“Urgh, my hair is stupid.” I muttered, having the compulsive need to at least comb out my voluminous dark hair. My hair was pretty hard to deal with; the strands were thin but my hair was thick, so if I didn’t comb it out it would look like a rat decided that my hair was a habitable home.

I lethargically went to the bathroom to get my comb. At the moment my hair looked like an explosion, but after I combed it out it came down to around my jaw.

“Dear, stop combing out your insufferable hair and let me shower.” My mother said as she came into the bathroom to shower. My mother and I lived alone because my dad died in Afghanistan a long time ago. I hardly remember him because he was constantly in service, but I knew he was a nice guy and woke my mom and I up every morning because we were both so lazy.

“Does this mean I don’t get a ride?” I asked.

“Just take my car, I’m working from home.” She sighed, shooing me away.

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed my mom’s car keys and my backpack, then headed out the door to my mom’s old Prius.

“Jeezus Jake! Where were you in P.E!?” Trudy Shrieked as I walked into English, right before the bell rang. “You abandoned me! Do you know how ANNOYING it is to have to deal with Jeff’s shitty pick-up lines!?”

“Why don’t you just give in to him? He’s a smex and he likes you.” I replied to her rant.

“A smex?... Well, yeah, he is, but he’s not my type!” She whined, putting her face in her hands.

I just shrugged in reply and got my English things out of my bag. I didn’t really know much about types since I didn’t have any; I only figured out I was gay because I just simply found men to be more attractive. I only knew what kind of men I didn’t like: stupid, self-absorbed, and stereotypical guys..., which pretty much ruled out most of the guys in my high-school.

Besides, I wasn’t about to take chances with relationships any time soon. When I was in junior high, I confessed to the guy that I loved, Shawn, after figuring out he was gay. Shawn was a really smart and hot guy and I had liked him for two years. Well, apparently being gay didn’t stop him from playing me, beating me up mentally and physically, and then bringing his friends over to laugh in my crying face. Afterwards, I was a major social outcast. Apparently Shawn did it for popularity, so now you know why I think popularity is overrated; if you have to break someone’s heart to get it, it’s definitely not worth it.

After I got my heart flattened I became distant from others, but hey, I’m introverted, so it wasn’t that bad of a change. I only started getting friends again in high school, after I was finally away from the constant teasing and bullying of my junior high. And I still didn’t have many friends, just five, but they are enough to make me happy with my life.

“And if we analyze line five, we will see that there is a metaphor for blahblahblahblah.” Ms. Shortwater’s voice was deposited into the back of my mind; my brain just couldn't handle it when Ms. Shortwater spent the entire period going over the reading.

“RIIIIINNNGG!” That was the most irritating sound ever. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out of the classroom.

“Jaaaaaaaaaake!” Whined Trudy.

“Whaaaaaat?” I imitated.

“Do you have the math homework?”

“Yeah.”

“Could I borrow it?” She asked hopefully.

“If you mean ‘borrow’ like last time you ‘borrowed’ my homework, then you can forget it.” I said dismissively. Trudy was a bit of a slacker and was even too lazy to even copy homework, so she just stole it.

“Pleeeeaaaase?”

“Noooooo.” I drawled with finality, walking away to the next period. “See you at lunch.”

“Fine.” Trudy grumbled.

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The next two periods went by slowly, but finally it was time for lunch.

“Sup!” Matt, a jock, said as he slammed his hand against my back in greeting, joining me in my walk to our lunch table.

“Ouch!” I yelped. “Hey!” Matt grabbed my lunch away from me. I just brought my own lunch to school since the food was so gross in the cafeteria.

Matt frowned when he saw that my lunch consisted of a rotten banana and a half eaten sandwich. “Dangit! I was hoping you’d at least have something edible!”

“The sandwich is still edible.” I said as I snatched my lunch away from him.

“But it has your cooties all over it!” He said with a disgusted face.

“Hi guys.” Said a voice next to us. I looked over to see Celeste walking next to us with her face stuffed in a book, as usual.

“Shit!” Matt yelled in surprise. “Celeste! Crap what the hell are you!? A ninja!?”

Celeste shook her head simply and turned the page of her book. Then Matt took out his phone in a frenzy and started madly texting. I raised an eyebrow; what was his problem?

I flinched as I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I took out my i-phone and looked at the text I got.

Matt: “Wholly crap! Did I seem like a total pussy just now!? But crap, Celeste is the only 1 who knows how 2 read a book so sexily! Shit what do I do!?”

Matt had a thing going for Celeste, and for some reason he always asked me for advice about what to do.

Jake: “ ‘a pussy’ like a cat? Or ‘a pussy’ like a vagina? U didn’t really seem like either to me.”

Matt glared at me. Matt: “I thought that because u r gay u could give me romance advice!” Matt was one of my few close friends, all of whom knew that I was gay.

Jake: “U know that I have no clue in the love department!... Now if u want some much needed fashion tips, then I’m ur guy.”

Matt glared at me. “I do not need fashion tips! Look at this hot bod!” He said aloud.

Trudy came bouncing next to us and cut in our conversation. “You do so! Those baggy black jeans are ugly and don’t flatter! That yellow T-shirt is horrid! And your shoes are orange!” She stated.

“What about you and Jake, huh!?” Matt said as he pointed to me in anger. “A plain T-shirt and jeans!”

“So?!” Trudy screamed to match Matt’s volume. “His shirt is a pretty blue, his pants fit him well and are the same color as his hair, and his shoes are blue like his shirt... Mr. Yellow-clashy-orange!”

As Trudy and Matt kept screaming at each other I stepped over to Celeste. “What are you reading?” I asked as a conversation starter.

“Glint.” She said without looking up.

“Ohemgee!” I voice screamed next to us. “That book is SO cool! Can you believe that it was the boyfriend that whole time!? Like, BOOM!” I looked over to see Trent waiting at out lunch table. Trent openly gay and everyone (except the occasional homophobe) loved him. Even I have to admit that he’s the most adorable person ever, but he matches one of my anti-types (aka what I don’t like in a guy). He was pretty stupid, a good stupid, but stupid nonetheless.

Celeste glared at Trent and put her book down. “Thank you for making me lose my reason to continue reading.”

Trent looked confused but smiled. “You’re welcome.” He said genuinely.

I looked back to Matt and Trudy to see that they were still fighting.

“Lady Gaga has an original style! She goes all out; THAT is fashion!” Yelled Matt.

“Throwing on an ugly yellow shirt is NOT fashion!” Trudy screamed back. “And Yellow shirts and strawberry blonde people don’t mix!”

“Ugh, shut the fuck up, nobody want to hear you two fighting about clothes.” Said a voice behind us. We all turned around in annoyance to see a guy and his friends looking down at us.

“You shut the fuck up; nobody wants to hear about your problems with us. You can just leave.” I said in irritation. Seriously, what was wrong with this guy? I’d never even seen him before. I think I’d remember seeing a hot guy like him in our school before (his personality is apparently anything but hot though).

The guy who spoke glared at me, then smirked. “Oh god, look guys, it’s Heart-break-Jake.” He laughed. My eyes widened; how did he know that nickname!

A bleach blonde guy next to him started laughing. “That pussy-assed bitch who you played Shawn?!”

“Who knew that he moved all the way out here to California?” Chuckled a brunette girl on Shawn’s left.

“WHOA! Hold the phones! You’re that Shitty-Shawn that Jake told us about!?” Trudy screeched, abandoning her argument on fashion and standing from the table.

“Shitty-Shawn?” Shawn repeated with a sneer. He then snickered at me, “Is that the lame name you decided to call me?” He laughed. Well, my name for him was better than 'Heart-Break-Jake'...

I stood up and stepped over to the guy who had caused all of my middle –school trauma; I was not going to let him think that he could mess me up again. “I didn’t even come up with it, but it’s MUCH less lame then Heartbreak-Jake.” I said to him. “But if the shoe fits, Shitty-Shawn is a good name for you.” I said with a sarcastic smile, moving back to the table.

Shawn looked at me with disgust. “You’ve changed, faggot.”

“Ha! I’m no more of a ‘faggot’ than you.” I said. For God’s sake, the guy was gay! He couldn’t just call a gay person a ‘faggot’ and not expect them to address him with the same insult.

“Well y-” BEEEEP! My friends and I casually stood up and packed our things, leaving Shawn and his two friends standing there awkwardly.

“Let’s not talk again Shawn.” I said with a fake smile, leaving.

Ugh, did I really have to be reunited with that stupid asshole? Well, that was probably the worst thing that had happened to me all year! ....Until later that same night.

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D: Sorry for that exetremely uneventful chapter, the stalking and murdering shall commence next chapter! (/*o*)/ # # # # (waffles for all!)