A year off from school seemed to make the place look completely foreign to Michael. The way the locker doors clanged as the students sped past, talking amongst themselves, and not really paying attention to their next classes. But Michael, he was too consumed within himself. Returning to school having to repeat year 10 made him more than uncomfortable. He felt like he stood out of the crowd and he did. With his overly tall stature and lanky frame he looked somewhat like a character from a cartoon. He sighed heavily as he flicked a brown curl from his face. With big, chocolate brown eyes he watched anyone who might pick him for target practice today. Carrying his books to his first class of the year was a little daunting; even if everyone was too busy being excited about seeing their friends after the Christmas break. He sat down in the front row of his first class just as the bell rang and the teenagers poured in. He instantly looked down at his book scribbling on his papers attempting to draw as little attention to himself as possible.
"What's your problem?" A guy with blond slicked hair asked staring at Michael. He wasn't that tall but the way his cold blue eyes looked at him made him shiver.
He paused maybe a little too long before answering but his social skills seemed to be lacking after all time. "Nothing." Michael murmured.
The guy sniggered, smacking Michael's desk firmly. Michael's eyes shot up towards him, looking at him with a slight amount of fright, despite his own size being much taller but width, maybe not so much.
"Aren't you the kid who went to the mental hospital?" The guy asked, smirking cruelly.
Then, the guy laughed, high fiving the guy behind him with blonde hair and green eyes.
"I might be." Michael replied softly.
He hated how rumors spread so easily, even if they were true. It pissed him off more that his parents didn't fucking let him change high schools after the incident. Why must he return to the one place that shook him up so much to wind up in a place like a hospital for crazies?
"It's Mike right?" The guy asked with a menacing smile.
"Mika."
"Oh right, you're the mental case with the girl's name. I remember you; didn't my brother beat you up?" He asked, laughing as if it was the joke of the year.
Just before Michael (or Mika by his nickname) could answer or perhaps choke on the lump forming in his throat the teacher walked in, flicking her red heels and dropping her papers on the desk. The lesson will begin now. He tucked away his scribble paper and opened his book to begin but his mind was far too occupied by the stupid kids' questions. He was most likely only 17 at the most but Michael felt like he could still be a bully to him.
"Russell. I suppose you know the answers then since you're busy talking now?" The teacher asked at the teenager who was behind Michael.
Ah, the kids name. Michael knew that would come in handy, in avoiding him.
"No Miss, I was asking Jesse for help." He said high fiving the blonde kid.
How many times do the idiots want to high five each other a day?
"I'm sure you were mmhm." The teacher said with sarcasm, rolling her eyes.
Michael shifted in his seat. The day was passing in a drag. The smell of the class room reminded him too well of tales of horror, with the thin walls covered in dull cream paint that was slowly peeling and the brown under layer was visible, the place looked like a dump. Posters of class rules were splashed with red cordial and god-knows-what-else hung frailly on the walls with rusty pins. The teenagers could only make the same sounds as they always did, the clicking of hidden phones texting and chatter amongst nosy gossipers. Michael felt far too superior compared to these fools but at the same time he feared them and envied their ability to function. He wondered what skills they processed to go on every day, acting like dim witted dickheads and still stay smiling while he felt like he was rotting away in his own room each night.
Recess break was probably the only time Michael felt okay. The kids didn't really seem to bother him unless he was out of his seat in the cafeteria. They were too busy about who was sitting in the cool table, the Goth table, or the nerd table. Michael? He sat on his own table, the one with the wonky opposite seat; no one ever bothered him there.
Each kid was lined up the moment the hall of the cafeteria was opened, with their royal blue trays and their appetites for nothing but shit, he looked past the food offered and chucked his tray on the cleaning pile. He sat down in his wonky table. He couldn't be fucked with eating today. He pulled out his scribble paper and doodled a bit losing himself in his thoughts.
"What are you drawing?" Someone behind him asked.
A tall guy with short brown hair stood behind him in jeans and a blue T-shirt. He hadn't seen him before. Maybe he was a new transfer.
"Um... nothing really." Michael mumbled embarrassed.
He looked at Michael with curious eyes and sat down, the seat wobbled underneath him and he made a puzzled look.
"That seat's broken, I wouldn't sit there." Michael said softly, not eyeing the boy.
"It's okay; I think I can handle it. Why aren't you eating lunch? It looks like you could afford it." The guy said, smirking.
He took his sandwich out of his bag. Michael looked up staring at him and trying to figure him out. He had full lips and long dark lashes. He had beautiful green eyes. He was actually very handsome, was this some kind of joke? What was he doing here?
"Hello?" The guy said, dragging out the 'o' and waving his hand in front of him.
He smiled awkwardly but also, it was cute.
"Do I know you?"
"Nope, I'm new. I moved here in the holidays and now I go to this school. Oh I'm Casey by the way." Casey said with a smile.
He spoke so soft with a high-pitched squeak to it. Michael paused maybe a bit too long, his eyebrow was starting to arch.
"I'm Michael. But everybody calls me Mika." Michael replied softly.
He was stretching out his hand to shake. He shook it looking at him like he was a bit strange.
"You don't shake hands with people at school idiot."
"That's a weird name."
"So is Casey." He was looking at his eyes for signs of hurt. "Actually it's not, you're right my name is weird sorry."
"I didn't mean it in a nasty way; I was just making small talk. How come you sit alone?" Casey asked, cocking his head to the left.
"Because I'm the mental case with a chick's name." Michael replied in a monotone tone.
His eyes showed he was confused but also curious. He looked away then sighed.
"Well, I think it's cool."
Wait what? Michael looked up, piercing his eyes into his. Cool? No one had ever referred that word to him, not even close unless it had the word 'not' before it.
"Thanks." Michael mumbled.
♂+♂=♥
That night, Michael was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling thinking about his day. It was the first time he was actually curious about going to school the next day, hoping secretly that Casey would sit with him again at recess. But a part of him was telling himself he would be told that he's a freak and make new, cooler, and popular friends. He sat up and looked at his computer screen. He got on it and looked up Casey on Facebook. He felt a little weird stalking him at first, but he found him pretty quickly. Now was the hard part; does he send a friend request? He shook his head leaving the computer on as he jumped into bed, kicking off his pants and socks as he slowly fell asleep. A thought was floating in his mind about his past bullying that drove him into a suicide attempt, flashes of his episode of deep wrist cutting came as he tossed and turned.
Was this really fair, at all?
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