Underneath This Skin - 2. The Teenage Playground

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

BEEP.

Smash.

Rolling over grogilly, I checked to see if I had dismembered yet another alarm clock. Luckily, the LED lights displaying how fucking early it was in the morning, was yet another fortunate beginning to the day. I had wasted WAY too much money on alarm clocks. And God knows I needed them.

If I didn't arrive fifteen minutes early to my shift, I'd...

Cue pacing.

Sadly, pacing in this scenario was more 'tumbling out of my sleeping blanket and crawling to the washroom. I'd just like to announce, that the stained carpet of my rundown apartment was really fucking cold. Sighing inaudibly, I stood up at the bathroom door, rubbing my eyes tiredly. I was out until 3am the night before, working in the greenhouse.

I climbed in the shower and let the water run over me. This is usually the part where the author makes the character think of their past, or the day ahead of them. But to be honest, nobody does that at six in the morning. They stand in their shower, blankly looking at the (usually) white wall in front of them, spacing out until they're done. And that's exactly what I did.

I quickly dried off and finger-brushed my hair, before putting on my ratty black t-shirt, that was kind of really small on me, even though I looked like an ethiopian myself, and my tattered black cargo pants. Sure the top and pants had a few holes in them, but they did their jobs. I quickly threw on my black converse, with a side plate of duck tape wrapped around them, and headed out the door.

Wait. You're probably wondering why I didn't grab any school supplies right?

Psh, who has money for that?

I walked to my school for the next two hours, still half-asleep. Nothing of interest occured.

I stopped in front of the building the tattered note in my hand said my school was, looking at it blankly. Teenagers of all variety swarmed around the mediocre brick playground. I sighed again. Silently, of course. Running my hand through my black, chin-length hair, I made my way towards the doors that looked like the main ones. Most people were there.

Some people stared quietly, others chatted loudly.

"See that kid?"

"Yeah, what the fuck happened to his clothes? Get in a fight with a paper shredder?"

The group currently nearest to me laughed. I really didn't care. I never cared about anything anymore, really. I pulled open the front doors to the school, and made my way through the hallways.

I really wanted to pace. But walking in one direction doesn't count.

After about fifteen minutes of looking, I discovered the main office. I walked up to it, and stared at the secretary, waiting patiently with my ever-present frown plastered on my face. Some people said it took more muscles to frown. To me it was just more fucking comfortable.

"Can I help you?" The lady asked, behind the usual frizzy grey hair and bazillion inch-thick glasses of an everyday receptionist.

I stared pointedly at her.

"Oh... you must be him." She said, smiling falsely. I mentally sighed, as I nodded my head, as if I had been reading her brain as to who this 'him' was exactly. "Here's your schedule Caden..." she said after a few moments of ruffling through the many papers on her desk. I took the piece of paper, scanning it. "Just wait here a minute, I'm going to call a member of student council to show you around..." She said, reaching for the receiver.

I left.

I didn't want to have contact with some stupid student council member. What was a student council anyway? Oh well, I didn't particularily care.

I drifted through the now deserted hallways, looking at my schedule. First was... English. Room 301. I mentally cheered. I was good at this subject. Or at least my test results had said so. Personally, I thought I was pretty horrible at everything.

No one asked me though.

I arrived in front of 301 after about another fifteen minutes of searching. I hated searching. I stood in front of the door, listening to a male voice talk about something or another, while hearing a couple voices chattering quietly. Opening the door, all voices stopped.

Well, wasn't that fucking splendid?

A middle-aged man stood at the front of the classroom, with a text book in his hand, glaring at me. I looked back at him blankly. Of course with the frown. Never forget the frown.

"Well, boy. Would you care to tell me why you so kindly interrupted my lecture?" The old man said, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he stared at my appearance. Let him.

I stared pointedly back at him once again.

"Oh... you're him." He announced to himself after a few moments of trying to melt me with his eyes. I once again nodded.

Deja vu much?

Turning towards the class, he grabbed my arm, pulling me forward a few steps to the center of the classroom. Everyone stared. I stared at the back wall.

"Everyone, this is Caden Johnson. He will be joining us from now on as a student at Merrit High. Please make him welcome." He announced, before turning to me. I inwardly scoffed. As if I was welcome. I could already feel the glare of some beastly looking guys in the back of the class. "Please take your seat beside Matt, please." One of the beastly men smiled at me evilly as he waved his hand to signify who 'Matt' was. I nodded.

Most people would be gulping, or making terrified eyes, or paling at the idea of sitting in the middle of a whole bunch of beastly muscular men. But honestly? I didn't really care.

Like I said, I didn't care about anything anymore. I noticed a guy with multiple facial piercings and bright red hair staring at me from the corner of my eye. It looked like he was wearing eyeliner as well. I turned to look more at him. He was certainly more physically interesting than the rest.

He had a black tshirt on, with white font reading "If looks could kill, you'd be dead. You ugly fuck", as well as checker boxers hanging out of his tight black skinny jeans, with rips in the knees. He had his combat books kicked over the desk, with his muscular arms behind his head, with an intrigued stare plastered on his face. My usual frown deepened. I didn't like people taking interest in me. Made my life harder.

I took my seat beside Matt, and surrounded myself with beastly men. All were trying to give me intimidating stares. I didn't respond. I never did. I spaced out as the teacher droned on about this personal essay we were supposed to hand in at the end of the week. He wanted to know more about us, he said.

Bullshit.

He just wanted an easy excuse for an assignment the first day of teaching.

Luckily, he said we could work on it in class for the week.

The bell rang. Finding lined paper could be saved for another day. I shuffled the few pieces of paper in front of me, trying to assemble them in some kind of order, before standing, and making my way out of the room. The redheaded boy seemed to be right on my tail. Before my stalker could approach me, I was slammed into a locker outside of the classroom, by 'Matt'.

"Say, faggot, where'd you get your clothes, a rundown thrift store?" He and his friends laughed, as he held me up against the lockers. Most would be screaming, or at least looking terrified at this point. Me? I was staring boredly past them, watching the students as they walked by.

As I was slammed into the locker again, I could feel bruising staring to form on my shoulders, where his hands were digging into my skin. "Answer me, cocksucker." He growled.

Huh, I guess the question wasn't rhetorical.

"Matt, he doesn't make a sound. Look like we can have fun with this one." One of his burly buddies pointed out, as Matt let go of me and let me fall to the floor. He kicked me harshly once, knocking the wind out of me, as he turned back to his buddies.

"Guess our goal is to make him make a sound, boys." He grinned, as his friends whooped. He turned back to me, glaring down at me. "We'll deal with you later, faggot."

As they were walking away, and I was questioning how I'd suddenly become a 'faggot', the redhead from before had walked up to me. "Hey, brat." I looked up at him, the same facial expression as always plastered on my face.

Who the fuck was he calling a brat? He was in the same goddamn grade!

"Do you not speak?" He asked, looking down at me with a grin. I frowned deeper. Condescending much? I felt like hitting him. Shaking my head to answer his question, I stood up.

I tried not to wince, I really did. Though my eyes didn't want to cooperate.

"Yeah, they hit you pretty hard. I love your blank face though while you get hurt." He started, still grinning. I was once again beginning to hate my height. Standing at 5'1" sucked. Really, it did. Especially since this guy was like... six something. This was just another reason for it to suck. The redhead trapped my head between his arms, and bent down to my level, putting his lips beside my left ear.

"It's so fucking sexy." He whispered, before nipping at my ear, and walking away. I stared after him, inwardly confused.

The fuck?

...I'm male, he's male...

Cue realization.

Oh no.