I don't want to be here.
I guess introductions are in order...
I'm Marcus. I'm a quiet, bitter 15 year old who seems to have no place in this world.
Let's just say my childhood hasn't been all that great, I live with one parent who doesn't love me. I tell myself I don't care. Feeling's mutual anyway. I have probably moved about 3 million times so far yet still my mother isn't satisfied. She's trying to find a place where she'll be happy, you see. Happy, happy, happy. She's miserable and she's fucked up both her children but now she's supposedly cleaned up (for a guy she just met (who left --or ran away from-- her already)). She's still the same person. She's just conciously fucking us up now.
She's probably fucked up by her parents herself.
We used to live in New Jersey but now we moved to eastern Europe. My grandmother has taught me a little of the language but it still wasn't easy moving here, being thrown into a 5th grade class knowing only basic speach. The grammar is a fucking nightmare.
Anyway, we changed cities in this wonderful country a few times already.
Yes, I'm getting to the story, calm down...
And in September, half a year ago, we arrived here. I don't really have any friends. I'm attracted to people who are either interesting, or just fucked up. So I was expecting the same old routine, maybe talking to one person the entire year and then moving again.
So there I was. Taking a bus I wasn't sure was the right one to the first day of school. Yipee.
The school was nothing special. A pretty small building, people standing outide if it, pretending to like eachother. As I opened the door the fresh smell of first day of school almost made me gag. You know that smell. I found out we were having an opening thing at the gym. I found it after a while of searching and saw where my new class should be standing.
It was mostly girls, all dressed nice and pretty and maybe 6 guys. It's strange how the guys in my other school looked like they were 15, yet these looked like they were nearing 20. They were all standing in a group talking about football or something, I thought I heard a corny joke being shouted and the rest laughing at it. I had no intention of approching them. They all looked very...typical. All but one.
He actually looked my age. Well, he looked more like me. I don't really look 15, my features are smooth and I'm fairly skinny. 14 maybe.
I didn't make anything of him. He was leaning against the gym wall behind everyone else looking at his phone. I went up to him and asked him if this is class 2b.
"Yep," he answered without looking up.
Already I was beginning to like him.
The rest of the day flew by as expected...the teachers introduced themselves and said some more things I didn't really pay attetion to.
My new class.
It was different from most. Everyone in this class was friends. Everyone knew everything about eachother. Everyone was nice. The guys came up to me after the bell and each introduced himself. I told them my name and they told me a little about the school and whatever.
I learned the guy that actually looks my age is Jassen. I'm guessing you want to know how he looks.
He has light brown hair, straight, it's medium length. His face is smooth like mine with high cheekbones and eyes that are.. I don't even know which color. From close up they're blue but from far they look brown, almost black. He's skinny. Skinnier than me. He's taller than me about an inch, too. He used to be the shortest guy in the class, the other guys being 5 inches taller. He wore a dress-shirt, obviously not ironed, and jeans. Not the baggy kind.
I, on the other hand have dark hair. Very dark. Also medium long and curly. Hairdressers envy me for how thick it is. I have a smooth face and dark-brown eyes. Some say they're black. I'm lean but pretty fit. I used to run and swim a lot, making my back and legs quite durable, but that was a while back. I have a flat stomach, if I flex you can almost make out some muscles but otherwise I just seem skinny.
The next few school days I spent observing the class. I'm quite observative so I've found out a few things, most of them irrelevant to the story.
Have I mentioned I'm not social al all. I don't like meeting new people and I don't like talking to people I don't know about random pointless things.
And thats exactly what these guys were doing to me. I appreciate the kindness, they see me sitting alone so they try to talk to me and make me feel better in this class that's known eachother for over 3 years. But if I'm obviously not keen on talking just leave me alone.
And they talk about football --soccer in the US. My least favorite subject. Maybe I hate it because this country is obsessed with it
"Hey did you hear this and this team scored 2 to 1 with this other team?"
"No."
"So what's your like favorite football team?"
"None."
They quit after a while, thank god.
The school hours turned into days and days into weeks.
After two weeks everyone's given up talking to me. I usually sit alone in class, bored or drawing in my notebook. I can draw pretty well and its a good way to pass time.
I've concluded that the class, while being nice, expects everyone new to join their circle or community and spill all their deepest, darkest secrets into it. And I have trust issues. I've also noticed quite a lot of backstabbing going on, everyone pretending to love people they secretly hate.
Jassen was a tougher puzzle. Like a puzzle with 10 extra peices thrown in and no edges.
He seemed a part of this group yet he was not. He smiled sometimes yet his eyes did not. He seemed to talk with the guys yet he wasn't really communicating. The one thing I knew was he's unhappy.
I didn't exactly focus on him, though. He slipped out of my mind after a few days, or maybe he never left.
I found myself getting more and more depressed, wanting, needing someone. I felt like this often, it would or wouldn't go away in a few days. But this time... I needed a friend, I realised.
I never really thought about it... but now I knew...
I needed communication, real communication. I needed to trust someone, one person atleast. I needed to talk to someone and to hear someone talking. I needed to be loved, it's a need every person has, to feel someone really need you, and to truly need another human being. As I thought this, at 2 am in bed I felt that lump in my throat, what happens when you cry. But I wasn't crying. I never cry.
A friend.
Boy, people sure use that word to describe lots and lots.
I think that a true friend is someone you look for all your life. You know who it is at once when they open up to you. A friend is what every person needs. Everything he needs, everything about this person helps you. Many people go through life trying to fill that void, that outline with many, many things. Some people feel they need many people to fill the space that is really meant for one and only one person. It's not the same though. A true friend, some would say a fictional character... I sure hope not.
Yes, it's pretty obvious by now this story is about Jassen so I won't stall any longer.
I started taking an interest in this creature after two months of school. I found myself concentrating on him, focusing.
Not obviously, of course, I didn't want to freak this class out just yet... I'd just see him in my periferal vision and try to concentrate on that. It's not stalking. I'm just interested. He's pretty careless, he doesn't pay attention at all in class and he rarely does his homework. He's smart though. He always answers the questions correctly, just doesn't bother to write them down.
I've noticed my pulse speed up rapidly whenever he gets close to me, I hope he doesn't notice my pupils dialating. It sounds like I was going through a crush but I honestly wasn't.
The last bell rang, signaling we were free to live our lives in peace, studying the rest of the afternoon...
I got my bag and passed the group of girls and guys standing in front of the class. I figured my whole class probably hangs out together after school. I went downstairs to get my jacket and left the building.
It takes about 5 minutes to get to the bus stop which I later found to be far too little. So I started walking. I always know when someones behind me, and there was someone behind me right now. I could hear their footsteps and I could see their shadow on the far right. Guess who.
Jassen walked up next to me and slowed down to my speed.
I frowned at him puzzled.
"Hey," he said casually, not looking at me, "How are you liking the school?"
"Depends what you mean by 'school', I like the bathrooms, they're cosy," I replied sarcastically. I really hoped he knew it was sarcasm, it can be tricky in this language.
"Sounds like fun, and the teachers?"
"Not as cosy"
I saw a smile appear on his face. Small and heavy. I knew it wasn't real.
"So the guys are going out this weekend, I might come along. D'you want to come?"
No way.
"Well we all know I'm super talkative, I'll think about it."
Thought about it already.
He was lighting a cigarette, I noticed. Normally I would strongly disapprove, but it didn't seem to bother me.
"You can walk ahead if you don't want people...seeing you..."
"Yeah I wouldn't want all my friends seeing me with the likes of you.."
He evidently knew I don't give a crap what people think about me.
I saw him actually look at me, his expression quite unreadable. I turned to see his dark blue eyes study my face and finally meet mine. It seemed like forever. It was half a second at most, and I felt naked as he just looked back ahead casually, blowing smoke to the right, so it didn't hit my face. Crazy just how intimate eye contact can be.
The silence became awkward.
"So where do you live?"
I told him where I lived and he asked a few more insignificant questions. We got to my bus stop and he said he lives that way.
"See you."
"Later."
Poor Jas, he was sent as a messanger, I thought, still that exchange of words left me feeling hopeful, good. For the first time in a long long time. I didn't know why or what about it made me feel this but I knew if it feels good, why not do it? Same would apply to heroine....but no, this can in no way harm me, atleast not that much.
I, of course, ended up declining the offer.
Hate mail can go to mpycell@yahoo.com