He waved at me from a few desks away, smiling. God, what does he want from me? The teacher glared at him, giving him a glare that said "pay attention." He put his hand down, and pretended to write down notes about the subject we were learning in math class that day. I rolled my eyes, and looked back at the paper, writing down the numbers and letters that were supposed to make sense. I put my hand in my hair, pulling on the white hairs in frustration. I was going to try again on the problem, but something hit my foot. Something light-weight. I stepped on it, to hide it from the teacher, Mr. Davis.
I saw that Mr. Davis looked back at the chalkboard, writing another mix of numbers and letters. I uncovered the thing that was under my foot, reaching down for it. I looked down at it, mid-reach: a paper. I looked up at that annoying kid while bringing the folded paper up to my desk; Loki, the most annoying kid ever. Of course he just had to bother me my whole life. Ever since 1st grade, he has constantly clinged onto me. He says I've gotten meaner, but I don't know. I think I'm fine.
Unfolding the paper, I glanced at Loki. He was staring at me, smiling with that stupid grin that he always has plastered onto his face. The note was fully open. In cursive handwriting, it read "You okay Oscar?" with a frowning face below it. I looked back up at him, cringing. He frowned, matching the little drawing on the paper. I looked away, he's so annoying, but he deserves an answer. I looked back at him, nodding with the smallest smile I could express. He went back to that smile.
Loki looked away, smiling up at the chalkboard. I let out a small sigh, going back to my normal, and what Loki says, grumpy, face. I went back to writing. I would've been done if Loki weren't always distracting me.
"... bringing the 4.6 here- Soren, shoes off of the desk," a sigh from the back of the class. I looked back at the greyish-black haired boy who sat in the back of the class, in the middle. Now, he was funny, and fun to hang out with. While turning my head around to the front of the class, I paused at Loki. He wasn't smiling. He stared down at the paper, expressing a very confused look.
He wasn't always smiling, really. He just is always so happy, and it was so annoying. He was either confused or got offended by something, but it'd make more sense if he were confused. Math didn't make sense, so I don't blame him at all.
"The final answer would be–?" Mr. Davis looked around the room.
"Oscar," Mr. Davis said. The rather old teacher narrowed his grey eyes at me. "What's the answer to number seven." he hissed.
"I didn't understand it." I said, covering up the "I didn't do it, bozo." that was trying to come out of my mouth. It was hard for me to cover it, it was like covering a volcano with a lid. But I succeeded this time. The amount of times I've been sent to the principal's office for "erupting" or talking back is immaculate. I looked at Loki from the corner of my eye as the teacher called on someone else.
The bell rang. It was barely a bell, it was just an annoyingly long beep that played over the intercom. I picked up my stuff, putting the extra papers inside of my chromebook. Loki got up and walked to my desk, waiting for me to get ready so we could walk to Science together. We had literally all of our classes together. So annoying.
Loki had a trapper keeper that had papers and a chromebook in it, I just carried my chromebook, that carried papers.
"Come on Oscar, we're going to be late to Science. Mrs. Beane won't be very excited to hear that we're late again." Loki complained. It still sounded like he was happy. He didn't sound annoyed, and it barely sounded like a complaint.
I just had to ask, after waiting seven years to ask.
"Why are you so happy all the time?" I asked, barely sounding like a question.
Loki and I were complete opposites. I hated everything about everything, he loved everything about everything. I had white hair, he had black hair. I had pale skin, he had tan skin. Everything was the complete opposite.
He thought about it for a second.
"I don't really know. I think it's just that I appreciate the people that talk to me, and the people that help me in life," Loki looked at the teacher, and back at me. "Yeah, that's it."
"Well I don't do that, it's useless," I responded, sounding weak.
"That's okay," Loki smiled a bit wider. Even more obnoxious. Loki suddenly frowned, "We need to get to class."
I put one last paper in my chromebook, and sighed. I didn't really like walking in the hallways with people, it was better going alone. Loki, still annoying, walked with me to every class, talking about things that I don't pay attention to. As we walked to Science, he talked about biology. I looked away from him, at the lockers. I ignore him a lot, too much? No, it's just that he's annoying. You know that though.
I tuned in for a moment.
"— what about you? Oscar?" Loki finished, putting his hand on my shoulder.
"What?"
"I like biology."
"I don't like biology."
"Oh."
We walked into the classroom, the classroom we sat right next to each other in. Soren wasn't in this class, he was in the science class next to ours. I think he's cool. It's not because he acts like a frat boy, it's because he's just funny. I can tolerate Loki, I guess.
Loki set his stuff down, his chair closer to me, rather than in the middle. He sat down, and so did I. Mrs. Beane started talking about biology, what Loki was babbling on and on about in the hallway. Loki smiled to his ears. He took out a paper and started writing about biology, so I did the same. I stopped paying attention, drawing on the lined paper. I drew stick figures, because I wasn't the best at drawing.
I got a tap on my shoulder. I looked around, and saw Loki's worried look. "Oscar, Mrs. Beane is doing attendance. She said your name 4 times." he said, smiling again.
I raised my hand, "I'm here." I went back to drawing, but Loki grabbed my hand. "I think it's best if you pay attention in this class. It'll cost you your grades."
"My grades are all Ds. I can't fix it. I don't want to try anymore." It was true, my grades were terrible, and it's nearly impossible to fix it now.
"Loki, Oscar, quit talking," Mrs. Beane glared at Loki and I. Loki nodded and went back to noting things down silently. I rolled my eyes, grabbing some index cards. I wrote, "Mrs. Beane is so annoying, we weren't even being loud," and I slid it to Loki. He looked at it, read it, looked at me, and nodded. His look told me "no, not really." Something about his dishonesty made me smile, it was kind of funny.
He turned back to his work, and so did I.
My page was covered in stickmen. I'll never pass this class, I am so getting held back. Stuck in ninth grade for the rest of my life. Loki's probably going into eleventh grade with how smart he is, not me.
The ninth "bell" rang, and Loki turned his head to me quickly, his neck popping. "Ow, but my sister Janus is having a volleyball game, wanna come?" Loki informed me, pulling his trapper keeper out of his desk, unzipping it with ease.
"No," I refused as he grabbed papers off of his desk, neatly putting them in a green folder. "Why not?" He said, not even bothering to look at me, instead watching him slip the folder back into his trapper keeper. Then he looked at me, zipping his bag back up.
"Because Xander has baseball," I said.
Xander, my brother, doesn't even play a sport. He knew I lied though, he knows too much about me for me to lie to him. "Just come on, my parents aren't coming, so I'd want someone to come with me as my parents. Even though Janus is older than me, she'd still appreciate it if you came along."
I knew he wasn't going to give up on trying to get me to come with him, so I grudgingly accepted his offer with a nod and a quiet "Fine."
The hot blonde that sat on the other side of Loki left already, with half of the class. I grabbed my stuff, and pulled my phone out of my cargo pants' pockets. Since it was the end of the day, we couldn't get in trouble with our phones out.
When we left the classroom, I opened up me and my mother's messages, which were full of arguments that I could never win. I typed "Can i go over to lokis" with one hand. Loki and my mother always corrected me on my spelling, punctuation and grammar. I didn't care about what my writing looked like as long as it was readable. I tapped send, while Loki put his hand on my left shoulder as we walked to the exit for the poor people who rode buses; which was Loki and I. We were on the same bus, too. I literally can't get away from this kid, he's like a leech, or a bur.
On the bus we watched YouTube, sharing headphones. He thought every joke they made was funny, personally it wasn't that amusing. A few things they said were funny, but Loki didn't find it funny. Something I found funniest is when they said they'd punch a pregnant woman, which Loki said I shouldn't find funny because it's offensive.
The bus stopped at Loki's place. Loki's place was an olive green estate, which was too big for the family he had.
We both hopped out of the bus, landing in recently mowed grass. Loki's mom was a good mother, unlike mine. My parents made it clear that they didn't love me as much as a parent should. My mom didn't even answer my text when I asked to go to Loki's. She'd be fine with it anyway, anything to get me away from her. She says I'm a mistake, and that Xander is better because he isn't albino. My dad was albino too, but when I was born as an albino, they divorced, my mom blaming it on my dad. Loki's dad left him in middle school. The man just felt like it was okay to leave without saying goodbye. Loki was only twelve years old, and I even thought it was wrong.
Loki pulled me inside of his house, because I stopped on his porch, totally spacing out. We silently walked upstairs, Loki overjoyed to have me over, like always. It was so annoying honestly, because it was every time I came over. Once we got to his room I prepared myself for him to ramble on about random things just like in the school hallways. And he does exactly that. That time he decided to talk about how to play volleyball, and I literally did not care whatsoever. I watched him talk while he set his stuff down on his bed. He looked so happy to share the concept of volleyball with me, but somehow I could tell that he knows I don't care. I know he's known that for a while now.
He was still talking. I looked around his room, I had only been there a few times, and things have changed. Like his wall decor, just photos of toucans, plants and other birds. He had small shelves that were attached to the wall, the shelves carrying plants; some real, some fake. His room looked like a 15 year old girl's room, while mine looked like a rat's cave– or whatever rats live in.
Still talking. He had picked up a small pile of clothing that I didn't know he picked up. Probably wasn't paying attention, because I would never use what he's saying in the future. I've learned to tune him out.
He took his dull blue hoodie off and threw it to the floor, while telling me about his sister. Like, everything about his sister that he could think of. He listed every single dude she's dated, every team she's been on, her favourite colour and how much he likes that colour himself. He told me how many kids she wanted: which was two, she wanted to name one Iris and the other Hecate.
