Disconnected ; Lashton

4. Violent Youth

I haven't felt this nervous for my first day of school since I entered junior high. It's my senior year, and I'm eighteen, so I should be calm and collected.

I'm anything but.

I was able to stop myself from puking when my mum told me about going back, but now that I'm about to head outside to the car and actually go, I can't hold it in. My mum is waiting in the car for me so thankfully she won't hear it. I don't want her to worry about me more than she already is.

I lean over the toilet and my breakfast comes up. It makes me feel slightly better, but it also makes me all shaky and tense. It's not normal to throw up before school because you're so scared about going, is it?

I rinse my mouth out with water and swish some Listerine around then spit it in the sink. I take one last look at myself in the (new) mirror. I look... um, a little bit like I may have just vomited, but mostly anxious.

Before I leave the bathroom I pull my sweater sleeve down and gaze at my wreck of an arm. It's become a nervous habit of mine to just stare at it aimlessly. That first day with the mirror incident wasn't the last day that I'd make a mess of myself. It's become nearly an everyday occurrence, for me to make the sight of my skin worse. I'm not using broken glass anymore, I've now mastered how to use the edge of a razor without going too far, or not going far enough, as pathetic as that is.

I pull my backpack up off the floor and slip it over my shoulder then finally meet my mum in the car. She gives me an encouraging smile that falters when she sees my expression.

"Are you feeling well?" She asks as she places her hand on my bare forehead. I shift away from her touch and wave my hand dismissively at her to say that I'm fine. She looks unsure but starts driving anyway.

When we pull into the school parking lot, the sheer amount of people walking around the front of the school and its entrance is enough to make me sick all over again. It's a good thing that I threw up this morning because if I had to be known as the kid who puked all over the parking lot on the first day of school for the rest of senior year, I'd jump off Sydney Harbour Bridge. Which I've actually never been to... But I'd like to go one day. I hear it's a beautiful view.

"Are you ready, Luke?" My mum asks me in a quiet voice. I'm not, and I never will be, but I just pretend I am. She pulls me towards her and kisses my cheek, laughing as I try to pull away. I rush out of the car and power walk away from it, hoping that no one saw that. Though secretly, it did make me feel a little better. But I'll never admit to that.

I pull at my lip ring with my teeth even though I'm not supposed to as I enter the school. This place is a lot bigger than any of my previous schools. I see some kids holding white sheets of paper in their hands and I figure out that they're checking their schedules. I dig mine out of my bag, having received it in the mail a few days ago. My first period is Economics and I have literally no clue what you even do in that class. It's in room five hundred and three, which according to the map on the back, should be through a nearby hall outside of where I am right now. I keep myself walking since I don't want people to stare or get mad at me for not moving.

My first classes are fairly boring, but each of my teachers call me for role as Luke so that makes it all worthwhile. The part of the day that I've been waiting for comes after third period ends, lunchtime.

When I get into the canteen and see how packed it is, I know I won't be eating in there. I stand in a line of kids and grab some food then head straight towards the exit but before I can, I'm stumbling over something. I somehow manage to catch myself before I fall but I drop my tray on the floor. I hear laughter behind me and when I turn to see why I also find the cause of my trip. Someone has their foot pushed out, they tripped me on purpose. Whoever this kid is, he seems to get a kick out of bothering people, and his friends find it pretty funny too. I try to ignore them and pick up my tray but I'm too slow and one of the jerks snatches it from me. I give them a pissed-off look, unable to control my facial expressions.