Chapter Text
I can’t really pinpoint exactly when it was that I became completely and utterly bored and irritated with life. It may have been sometime between when my parents decided I needed a ‘higher education’ and sent me to Trost High, and stuck me in an apartment by myself for the entirety of my high school career, or when I found that this particular school was full of people that couldn’t break out of the social norm to save their lives. I haven’t met one person who doesn’t spend all of their time conforming and trying so damn hard to fit in. It’s true here more than any other school I’ve been to, so it’s probably quite obvious how bad it is. I, Jean Kirschtein, am unfathomably bored with my life.
It’s a Monday, the first day of my senior year. It’s around 6:00am that I’m finally rolling out of bed, and the cold wooden floor of my apartment is never kind to me in the mornings, especially this early. A long groan escaped my mouth, mostly out of dread of the impending doom that is high school. But it’s my last year, so honestly I don’t give a shit at all. I opted for the lazy approach and settled for black track pants and a dark green sweatshirt, it being September, and it was already pretty chilly here. I never bring anything to school, so that morning I just sat lazily on the counter eating cereal, waiting for 7:00 to roll around so I could start walking to school. I could probably have a car if I wanted because my parents are loaded, and admittedly I’m pretty spoiled, but I figure that with the amount of food I shove down my throat on a daily basis, walking will keep me from growing anymore of a little pouch on my stomach.
I’ve never had any friends at school, so I always left with just enough time to get me there before the bell, with no extra time. I didn’t wanna be there any longer than I absolutely had to. When I got there, everyone looked as depressed as I expected them too, all talking sullenly about their great summers that they had to leave behind. Frankly the only thing I’d be missing was waking up whenever I want to. Still, I guess that’s what comes with having friends. I talked to a few people last year, like this boy Connie who was pretty cool. But he started dating this really eccentric girl Sasha, and lost interest in his small friendship with me. It was okay though. I’m better off not having people follow me around, always interrupting my thoughts.
I realized that I had already reached my locker to grab a pencil and notebook to write down any supplies I’d need for the year. It was sad how every day seemed to be so monotonous that it flew by without any recognition of the events that went on anymore. It was only my first day back and I was already set so into the stupid routine that my brain wasn’t even bothering to register that I had been doing anything. I sighed a bit louder than I meant to before dialing in my combination and throwing the door open. I was quick to grab what I needed and then like clockwork walked to whatever my first class was. I looked down at my schedule to confirm that it was an art class. It made me happy to know that this year I at least got to start my day with an easy and somewhat fun class and not crazy ass math or science, both of which I’ve never had higher than a C- in.
When I walked in everyone looked the same as they did last year, but I just knew that they all had to have gotten much more annoying. There weren’t many seats left, and I was hoping to be able to sit alone in the back of the class where no one could judge what an awful artist I was. I looked around but the only seat left near the back was next to this dark haired kid who I actually didn’t recognize at all. He seemed shy and I figured that he was new here this year, so I took the liberty of shuffling over and sitting on the stool next to his. He seemed alarmed at first by my presence but simply leaned to the other side a tiny bit and kept looking at his hands that were hidden in the sleeves of his sweatshirt. I felt kind of bad for him, because it seemed like he was literally afraid of every single person in the room, even though no one seemed to be paying any attention to him at all.
I let whatever the teacher was saying float in one ear and out the other, because I really didn’t care about the syllabus. The whole time I just kept thinking about the weird drawn in kid next to me. I couldn’t really see his face because his hood was pulled up really far, and he was looking down at the desk intently trying to drown out the world around him. It was weird, but interesting. The bell struck me out of my thoughts though, and I wandered to my history class to once again listen to some stupid syllabus and rule list. I was really tired already, and that made the rest of the day crawl by like torture. I honestly thought that school was made just to torture teenagers.
I internally rejoiced when the final bell rang and I could throw my two items into my locker and start the short walk home. I could already feel my bed beneath me and the sound of the TV putting me to sleep. When I turned around to leave though, I noticed a group of guys a little bigger than normal, and it seemed odd that they were all in a circle, seemingly concentrated around something. I don’t like bullies, or people who think they’re better for absolutely no reason. I don’t like people and try to distance myself from them but I would never hurt and belittle someone for no reason and I don’t like to see others doing it. I quickly walked over and peeked into the circle to see a boy sitting on the ground looking absolutely terrified out of his mind. His large book was in front of him, lying open faced with the pages stepped on and torn, and it looked like his fingers had boot prints on them. These jerks ruined his book and stepped on his hands when he tried to pick it up, knocking him down! I was pretty pissed.
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing to him?”
One of the larger ones turned towards me and snickered, his gross breath wafting up my nose and making my face wrinkle.
“What does it matter to you? Just showing to new kid whose boss around here and to watch where his stupid ass is walking in the halls.”
He turned back to the guy on the floor and pressed his foot down on his pinky finger.
“Walking with your head down, your hood up?? Don’t you know that’s how you fucking run into people, you inconsiderate fuck?”
I instantly recognized him from my art class, and judging by the fear on his face, he was too terrified to fight back, even though he had to be taller than I was. I grabbed the tall guy’s shirt and pulled him away from the other boy on the floor, and got as close to his face as I could, despite the pungent odor he was giving off.
“Leave him the fuck alone, can’t you see he’s scared shitless already? Don’t kick someone who’s already down!”
I pushed him away, ignoring his sneer as he said nothing and simply called his guys off. As much as I want to say that I scared him off, he probably just got sick of hearing me go on and on about something he saw as complete bullshit. Sighing, I turned around to see the other guy huddled into his sweatshirt again, messing with his fingers, stretching them out and brushing the dirt off. I bent down and grabbed his book and started to smooth out the pages. I felt his eyes on me, but ignored the urge to look down at him until I fixed all of the pages and closed the book. He was standing now, and I had been right to assume he was taller. He had about five inches on me, and a bit more build too. He could have easily fought those guys off, and the question of why he didn’t plagued me.
“Here. Are your hands okay?”
He stepped towards me cautiously and took the book from me, nodding. His eyes were downcast, like he wanted to run from me. I took the opportunity to look at his face, seeing as I probably wouldn’t have another chance anytime soon.
He had a square jaw, but very soft cheeks that were littered with freckles and slightly large ears that stuck out from his black hair. It was neatly trimmed, but silky and fell with little bangs that swept each side of his forehead. His eyes were bright brown, and seemed like they would be full of happiness and life, but when I looked into them they seemed sad and afraid. He was already turning around to leave, but stopped and looked over his shoulder and gave me a small tight lipped smile, uttered a very quiet and sweet ‘thank you’ then walked away.
What was that feeling in my stomach? It was like his voice was laced with honey and the kisses that mothers give you before bed, and the way his eyes lit up for the few seconds while he thanked me, it was like he was a totally different person. But the thing I noticed the most, and the thing that seemed so impeccably beautiful about him, was his tiny brown freckles.