School, Prejudice and Survival

Chapter 6, Part 2

Silent streets surround me, with the screech of a car breaking that silence every so often. This part of town is familiar to me; I've walked here too many times. Although, I admit it has been a while since I last did this. I'm not entirely sure what it was that possessed me to come here now. Fear? Instinct? Does it really matter? The only important thing is that I don't get caught. And I have been dodging that my entire life.

After a short walk I reach my destination. A deserted street corner with a sharp turn in the fancy caramel-brown fence that covers everywhere the houses don't. Laurel avenue. Where the rich live their 'perfect' little lives, and not even the bushes are allowed to grow wild. No wonder the kids who live here look like they have swallowed hangers. There is only so much perfection you can allow in your life before something snaps. The word perfect has always been one of my disliked words.               In my mind: Perfect = Boring. Who wants to be normal? To have nothing left to accomplish? If things are perfect, then you have reached the top of the ladder; there is nothing else you can do to achieve. And if you can't climb, you can only fall.

A minor flaw in the layout of this otherwise magazine-cover street- the loose panel that I kicked out a year ago. Unless being used, people are oblivious to this useful flaw. Silence works in my favour here; it means there is no one to see me. I push the bottom of the loose panel, and it swings easily as always. I have to catch it before it hits me on the head- something I learned the hard way... It got easier and easier to venture through this fence with time and confidence, yet that still doesn't calm my beating heart. I'm not scared of breaking the law- or being caught- but being caught would have to mean my Mother gets involved in all of this. And seeing her outside of the house is an unwanted occurrence.

I settle the board behind me, stand up and make my way forth. I walk through a dead-end alleyway and place my hand on top of the familiar small, brown gate that separates me from Matt's backyard. Gathering all my momentum, I press down with my hand and leap over the fence. Matt's backyard is pretty small, yet all in order as always. It doesn't matter if his parents have time-consuming jobs, there is still time to keep every blade of deep green grass level and straight. No wonder Matt has problems getting along with them. Sneaking towards the extravagant house is easy, it's the next part that concerns me. Maybe I should have called first- to make sure he was home and his parents weren't. 

  Indie. I hear Matt's voice inside my head, laughing. Even if they were home, that wouldn't stop you! 

 I smile at the memory. That must have been months ago now. And he was right. The only thing I need to check on is that Matt himself is home. But he must be, right? If he still has a cast, his parents wouldn't dare let him out. That would ruin their 'perfect family' image.

Without letting myself wimp out, I pick up a small pebble from the inside a fake-looking plant pot. Great. Instead of a perfect, real plant, they have a fake one. Why is that story so familiar? With a strong flick of my arm, the pebble flies past the first floor and makes contact with the left-hand side of my friend's window. Then I wait. Then I throw another one. Then I wait. Before I can throw a third, the window flies open. Panic sets in for a brief second, before Matt's white-blond hair appears and then disappears again. I wait some more. 

 An old, tattered rope merely misses hitting me on the head, and I hear a giggle from above. I stick my tongue out at the figure in the window, before grasping the rope and using it to hoist myself up. My upper body strength sucks, but I have my own system for climbing ropes. My feet lie flat against the flawless bricks of the house, and I find an acceptable balance between walking and pulling myself up. Refusing to look down helps.

Matt reaches his hand out the window and I grab it, then I grip the window frame, then vault through his large window. It would have been a lot cooler if I hadn't fallen over the minute I was inside. 

 "Been a while since I have seen you do that." He chuckles down to where I lie on his bedroom floor. "What? Fall over or be spider woman?" I reply, making no effort at all to stand up.                                           "Both. You don't have to whisper either, everyone is out."                                                                                           "Still not going to risk being caught at your front door. Stop staring at me and sit down!" Matt sits next to me on the floor, still chuckling at my lack of effort. I glare at him for a second, then use the rest of my available energy to sit up. 

 "How's the arm?" I ask, nodding towards the cast he wears on his left forearm. He shrugs, then stands up again. Before I decide to stay where I am, he grabs my right arm and more-or-less forces me to stand up. 

 "If you're going to sit, maybe don't sit right by the window. Come here." He says with a quick nod to the houses visible from his large backroom window.

I follow him across the room to the two-seater sofa in the opposite corner. He collapses into it then switches on the big, flat screen TV in front of us. I have to hand it to them, Matt's parents know how to keep up an appearance. Settling on the sofa next to him, I look over his room as he aimlessly flips through channels. Decent wallpaper, clean carpet, double bed in the center, desk complete with laptop at the wall, book shelves... everything a teenager needs, really. His smart phone rests on the closest bedside table, and I pick it up. Matt doesn't even flinch as I unlock it (he told me the code ages ago) and continues to look for something decent for us to half pay attention to. 

 His home screen is a picture of me and him, arms around each others shoulders, smiling like we have no cares in the world. That was about seven months ago, not long after Matt made his discovery. Before his parents found out. 

 Matt's parents were never the best. They kept up an image, but all they cared about was Matt being the perfect child. He still has many medals and trophies scattered about, hanging off of pictures and sitting on shelves. Out of all those awards, Matt is only proud of one. On top of his bookshelf sits his first place gold trophy, with a plaque that reads: Matt Thornton, First Place, West Midlands Talent Show. The rest of these awards are things his parents forced him to do. Sports, mostly. Matt only ever wanted to sing, and that prized trophy is his proof that it is possible.

Matt finally settles on The Simpsons, and I put his phone down and watch. This is easy, just sitting here with my best friend. Definitely what I needed after earlier being surrounded by strangers.                 

AN:

Hi! I hope you are enjoying the story so far! I just wanted to thank everyone who has been reading it, and voting and commenting. Thank You! It really means the world to me, and I would love it if you left your opinions in the comments, good or bad. This part was slightly longer than the others, because I am going to Barcelona with my school on Tuesday. Yay! I won't update for about a week whilst I am gone, but I would really appreciate it if you shared this story with others, voted, commented or even just tell a friend! It would help me get a wider opinion on the story, so I can learn what I need to improve and what is going well. Thanks, again, for reading!

-Lauren