Floating Face Down (boyxboy)

Chapter Fifteen

[A/N] Alright, late but present here we go !   (*ฅ́ ˘ฅ̀*)♡

I'd never felt so watched before, as I moved through the hallways from class to class, sitting quietly on my own on a table that was practically clean. I felt the warmth of their eyes, and saw them on the periphery of my vision, turned toward me. 

When I did look up and around the attention hurriedly shifted away from me. I still allowed myself to assume that some of the whispering was about me.

Rumours that had apparently not made their way through the class enough while I was gone were making the rounds again. I heard the half sentences that suggested someone may have heard Patricks father.

I never quite understood what impression the rest of the students had of me. The apathy that allowed them to watch some of what they had seen and say nothing left me feeling disillusioned with people, and disconnected, so that now I sat and did not try to understand them anymore.

If they cared or if they didn't care. If I disliked them or didn't.

In the end it took my dive off the bridge to see things clearly for the first time since primary school.

They were all strangers, they owed me nothing, and realistically speaking, it's sometimes hard to adjust, through a second set of eyes, how narrow the lenses are.

Each student had their own life, important things to be concerned about, each soul wrapped up in their own little lives, trudging along on their own. 

For the first time I saw the girls in the corner taking turns to pull on the black ponytail of the girl in front of them, giggling as her head was yanked backwards and she bounced forwards without a word. Not bowing her head, not saying anything at all. 

The one with caramel curls behind let out a terrible snort when her chair screeched on the floor from a particularly harsh tug.

I raised a brow from my seat.

It was a sort of out of body experience really. Watching that girl endure a similar treatment. Of course if I interfered I might make it worse, inspire that rabid guilt-provoked indignation, or she might have welcomed the harassment, perhaps they dished it out in equal parts to one another.

Regardless when the teacher turned from facing away from the class, adjusting the screen, to face them at the front, they stopped and there was nothing left to look at.

She handed out a pop quiz next. And for the first time in something like five years I filled out the question sheet with such clarity and ease that when it came to handing it in I was convinced I would find out I'd somehow misunderstood everything.

Instead I got a perfect score. I stared at that thirty out of thirty for about a full minute.

I should have been happy, but I didn't feel anything but mild surprise, everything else was numb.

Was depression supposed to work like this?

It was wonderful.

The world was so quiet, nothing but the birds and trees, human voices like white noise.

I wanted to stay like this forever.

But I doubted they would stay suspended for long, curiously although Patrick was the only one called into the office none of the other boys seemed to be in either, leaving a sort of sparse look to the classroom, patches of the room empty.