The New Kid

Ch 8: Who Makes The Sandwich?

As I walk to my house, my head is in the clouds, numerous fantasies between Cameron and I racing through my mind. Nothing bad...I'm a teen, not a horny prick.

I'm so caught up in these dreams in my head, that I nearly run into a street lamp. I somehow manage to avoid face planting the pole, but continue on, until I reach my front door.

I walk in slowly, taking a peek to see if my parents are home. As I had expected, they weren't home. I walk into the small apartment, seeing the McDonalds bag on the oven once again. Usually, I would feel bad about this, but...it doesn't seem that bad today. I honestly don't care. All in really focused on, is what happened today, between Cameron and I.

I reach into the bag, grabbing the box of chicken nuggets from inside. I take them outside of the bag, opening it up, and starting to gorge myself on the overly-processed meat.

Once I finish the nuggets, I throw the trash away, and walk to the bathroom. It has a simple shower, toilet, and old sink, that doesn't work half the time.

I start to strip down, removing my hoodie and shirt, left in only my jeans. I look into the mirror at the man who stands before me.

He has twigs for arms, and the upper body of an anorexic chimp. His neck is slender, and his head is too big for his body. I would make fun of him, but I have to remember that freak in the mirror...is me.

I can't stop thinking about how he had kissed me. How he actually DID like me....that he likes the monstrosity I see.

I take my pants off, completely naked as I step into the shower, and twist the knob. I feel the hot, steaming water pour down my body, it soon pouring off of his legs, and slipping down the drain.

I grab the shampoo, and squirt some into my hair, massaging it into my hair. Once my hair is lathered up, I stick my head under the stream of water, feeling the soap slip down my neck and body.

Afterwards, I snatch up the bar of soap, and start to rub it all over my body, the lather starting to cover my body. Once my entire body is covered, I once again slip into the stream of water, rubbing the larger off slowly, sighing as I relax in the shower.

I soon hear my phone ring. It was either my Mom, Dad, or Cameron...I need to answer, anyways.

I step out of the shower, grabbing a towel off of the rack, and drying myself off, rubbing the towel all over myself. Once my body is more or less dry, I wrap the towel around my body, and pick up my phone, answering the call.

"Hello?" I ask, walking my laundry to the washing machine. I find out it's my mother. It's just her checking on me. We talk for a few minutes, and soon, the phone is hung up, and I am dressed in a pair of sweatpants and T-shirt.

There isn't much to do, so I flick the TV on, and start to surf the channels. Food Channel, Cartoon Network, Nickelodeon, TruTV...God, nothing good is on.

I settle on the Food Network, and become a mindless slave to the TV for a while, watching bimbo after bimbo teach me how to cook some extravagant meal, making it look easy as hell.

I soon pass out on the couch, the mind-numbing show soon lulling me into a deep sleep.

~The Next Morning~

I snort softly as I lean up, stretching some. I release a large yawn, and open my eyes, looking around.

Everything seems to be fine, until I look at the front entrance of the apartment. Why the hell is the window broken??

I immediately sit up, stretching again before I stand up, and walk to the broken window, staying a good distance away from the broken glass, which had been sprayed across the carpet.

I observe the mess that I'll have to clean up later. God...this should be fun. But why didn't my parents notice it? I thought they would have...they must've been tired when they came home, and not have noticed it.

I start to clean the glass up, when I notice something next to the broken a glass. Something red and rectangular...a brick? I pick it up, and look it over. Who the hell would throw a brick through our window?!

As I look it over, I find a note attached to the brick. I tear it off, and open it up, finding a total of six words on the letter, that sends shivers down my spine.

"Don't bother coming to school, faggot" it read, the letters scrawled on the paper.

Oh shit...somebody saw us. It doesn't seem that they were too accepting...