The fire wasn't my fault and I wasn't addicted to cigarettes, I actually hated everything about cigarettes, but regardless, I still chain-smoked three every other day during free period with Xander Oshea. And that's why everyone blamed me for the school burning down during passing time between third and forth period the day before Xander got back from his vacation in the Bahamas. I tried to explain that I only smoked during free period because that's when Mr. Leavitt taught and he didn't care where people went or what they did. We could have been snorting crack and he wouldn't give two shits. But nobody would take it. There was no tangible proof that I set fire to the building and I didn't really have a motive but my mom still had me see a shrink for a few months who was nervous around me, and the teachers were also nervous around me and never gave a failing mark even though I probably deserved it. I wanted to scream at them that I wasn't going to stab them or light fire to the church we were using as a school, but I figured that would only worsen my cause. So I kept quiet and let people think I was a psychotic teenager. One step out of line and it was straight to the loony bin for me.
It would have been a great year, everyone in my school already thought I would one day pull a gun out from under my coat and go on a mass killing spree, the fire only made them sure, but I don't really care about them. The person who made it so I was constantly in a state of worry was a friend, Rachel Ouachita. You wouldn't think that such a quite, reserved girl could have so much anger and worry. She started hating me around the time I started dating Xander, so I just figured she was homophobic or she still had a crush on me from fifth grade or something stupid like that. I really didn't want to dig deeper, I like to get rid of the people that don't benefit my life. But whenever I was alone, in a state of calmness, I couldn't help but wonder about her. I confronted her. Big mistake.
She started screaming at me and causing a huge scene in front of the ninth grade honours English class. It was mostly about how I hadn't come out to her personally- because to Rachel it was some big ass deal- and how she had to learn from everyone else and how that wasn't what a "true friend would do" and a ton more bullshit.
So I figured that was the end of our friendship and started to leave her in front of the completely silent classroom and she grabbed my wrist and slapped me. Right across the face, no warning. So I called her a crazy bitch and she did it again. Then the principal waked by and we both got suspended. For a week. An entire week without Latin or Xander. Let me tell you, it was hell. Then when I got back to school, she wouldn't talk to me. I tried to tell her that I didn't mean to call her a crazy bitch (lie) and I tried to tell her that I wanted to be friends (truth) and I tried to tell her that there was no one I'd rather have as a friend (lie) and I tried to tell her that I was sorry (truth) but she wouldn't take any of it, truth or lie.
I do regret calling her a crazy bitch- even though it was completely true and she totally deserved it. It was the only thing I could think of when I sat in the graveyard about ¼ of a mile from the church with Xander and an unlit cigarette in my hand. I kept putting it in my mouth, reaching for the lighter, and then taking it out again. It wasn't unusual of me to do; it's a thing I do when I'm anxious. Xander looked over at me, he took the half finished cigarette out of his mouth and crushed it under his big black boots. He swept his pale pink dyed hair out of his face. He took me chin and tipped it upwards so I was looking him right in his bright emerald green eyes. After a few moments of studying my face his lips formed into a pout.
"What's wrong Damian?"
I looked away, mostly because I was blushing but also because I really didn't want to talk about it. It had been five months since the whole fiasco and I couldn't bring myself to let it all go. Xander understood and took another cigarette out of the pack, lit it and handed it to me. I took it from his hands and put it to my mouth. What I've never told Xander was that I took no peace out of doing this, it made me nervous and sometimes angry, but I did it for him. We both smoked the same cigarette until it was completely burnt out and utterly useless. Useless. I was useless, life was useless, love was useless, everything so damn useless. I sighed and looked up, in front of me was one of Rachael's close friends, Antoinette. "Oh, uh, hi Antoinette." I said awkwardly. She opened her mouth but nothing came out, she looked to Xander and blushed furiously. He noticed and a small, sort of cocky smile started to form on his face; I rolled my eyes at him. She turned her attention back to me. "Um, Rachael wanted to give this to you but her asked me to because she didn't want to get screamed at again." I felt anger boiling up in me, Rachael was afraid of me yelling at her? Hell no. She was the one who screamed at me. I had to the bigger person and let her embarrass me in front of a class of ninth graders. I tried to smile, but I had a feeling it came out as more of a twisted looking grimace.
Antoinette spun on her heals and jogged back inside the church. Xander chuckled, "Man, if I were straight..." I hit his arm in response. We laughed together and went back indoors. Leavitt had been laid off because he was a useless son of a bitch and my school needed to pay off expenses. Instead we had my math teacher who taught pre-calc and "watched over us" at the same time, one of which he sucked at.
The headmaster came into the room and said that this period was over for sophomores and juniors (me and Xander). I ducked under the mattress cover, which hung over a nylon rope that ran from one wall to the other that was supposed to divide the room in half. I was almost out of the classroom with Xander in front of me when Ms. Atwater, the principal stopped me and pulled me aside, Xander turned around to see what was the matter but she shooed him away. "Mr. Connaway, smoking is prohibited on the church property, and skipping class is not the point of free period. This kind of behavior will not be tolerated."
I could feel my face burning up, the pre-calc class was looking at me, I kind of wanted to punch her in the face, but I took a deep breath, "Of course, Ms. Connaway." She glared at me, "You should be aware after over a year of going to this school that it's Dr. Connaway." I held back the urge to roll my eyes at her.
The day dragged by- uneventful as usual- and by 3:15 rolled along I was ready to go home and not do homework. I got on the bus and put on my red and black headphones; there was nothing like Green Day to make the day a little better. I sat behind a mix of sophomores and juniors calling people's shoes and cloths "gay". I had grown accustom to blocking out idiots, but everyone once and a while they really got to me... I held back the strong urge to punch them all the face, I thought I would lose it until my friend Carter came on. She sat in the seat across from me- she was someone who finally understood personal space- and took out her homework. "How do you do that?" I said. She laughed at me, "It's a thing called incentive... And it's obviously something that you lack."
"Oh come on," I playfully punched her shoulder and leaned back into a laying down position on the grey seat. "At least it's almost the end of the year, a couple more months and we're home free-"
"Yeah but with the end of the year come finals. My mom already has me seeing a tutor to go over all the material..."
I sat up right, "A tutor?" She nodded. "The last thing Carter Farson needs is a freaking tutor. You are a genius! Why the hell you need a tutor?"
"Whatever. How's the thing with Rachel going?"
I lay back down. "Just as bad as it was the last time you asked me."
"Maybe you should try and have a civil conversation with her."
"I tried and we all know how that ended."
"Then just call her and tell her you're sorry."
"What am I even sorry for?"
"Doesn't matter."
"This is hopeless. It's my stop. Bye." I walked down the steps of the bus when I heard Carter's voice from the back, "CALL HER!" I waved her off and started the quarter mile trek through the woods to my house.
