A Class By Himself (boyxboy)

A Class By Himself

A huge note of thanks goes out to everyone who gave me so much love and support on my other story/fanfic, "Waiting Outside The Lines"! (New chapter coming soon!) This is the starting chapter of a brand new series that I'm bringing to Wattpad and will eventually be making into an ebook in the near future! I hope you guys will enjoy it just as much! Be sure to look for 'Comicality' in the ebook section of Amazon.com for more stories galore! And as always...thanks in advance to all of you who have been sticking with me! Love you lots! :)

The bus trip back and forth to school everyday was always a total bore for me. It was forty minutes to school in the morning, and forty minutes back home in the afternoon. I had to suffer through it five days a week, rain or shine. I guess that's what I get for being so damn smart. I had actual friends at my old school. People I related to, got along with. But ever since the system figured I was getting too 'brainy' for them, they started hauling me out to a school in the Northern suburbs for gifted kids. The excuse they gave was that I needed to be 'challenged'. At least, that's how they put it. So I was enrolled in an accelerated learning program at another school across town and that was that. I THINK the whole idea was that I'd be surrounded by kids that were as academically advanced as I was. The problem with that was...the other kids were all rich. Like...a LOT rich. And I...well, I wasn't. Far from it, to be honest. You'd be surprised how fast rich kids can pick up on that. I stuck out immediately like a celery stick in a box of chocolates. They spotted me from miles away, and the constant whispers behind my back were deafening.

'Derrick the Destitute' they called me. It became an inside joke between the mass of new people that I was supposed to be blending in with. Only a day or two, and they already had a way to make fun of me. Got to admire them for their creativity, if nothing else. I didn't mind though. Well...not TOO much anyway. On some deeper level, I figured that it wasn't a battle worth fighting. And even deeper than that, was the knowledge that in many ways, I was better than them for not sinking to their level. I tried REALLY hard to take some pride in that. But it wasn't easy...not here. I was alienated from the second I set foot on their gold-paved turf, and that took some getting used to.

I had just turned 14 years old at the time, and skipping ahead an entire grade into the evil world of high school a bit early. I was kind of skinny, but it's not like I was totally anorexic or anything. I was about 5' 6" with dirty blond hair and blue eyes. My hair hung down to my temples, but since I was supposedly poor, it always looked kind of matted down and messy. To ME anyway. Some of the kids at my new school told me that I had a very poor look about me. Believe it or not they were actually trying to be nice when they said it. Gee thanks. I'll be sure to write that compliment down on a piece of toilet paper and put it to good use the next time I think about you. Psh! How would they know what 'poor' looked like anyway? These kids have had everything handed to them from day one. The kind of boys and girls that get to float through life effortlessly because Mommy and Daddy's money can buy influence, and influence can get them a job, a spouse, a guaranteed shot at a good college, and pretty much anything else they could ever want. These were the kids that simply get a free car the day they turn 16...and then complain about the color. In their shoes...I could be happier than I've ever been before in my life. In mine...they'd probably put a bullet in their heads.

It wasn't my looks, so much. I mean...I was a bit insecure from time to time, but I was pretty sure that my looks weren't really a problem. The girls in my old school used to fall all over me like I was a young teen heartthrob or something. If I was interested in girls, that would have made me really happy, I'm sure. But I got genetically cheated out of the chance to enjoy any of that stuff. Guys are more my thing. I've known for a few years now, but I've just gotten to the point where I was willing to admit it to myself. Not that I ever told anybody. So them picking on me couldn't have been because I was gay. TRUST me...they did NOT know! Nobody knew except for me and that 'rosey palm' I've been dating since I was 12. Also, I don't think it was some kind of antisocial personality issue either. I DID have friends before, after all. I don't know...I felt like everything 'fit' like it was supposed to before going to the burbs. But NOW? Here with these brats... everything was reversed. The only thing that mattered was the money that I didn't have. The money that I'd NEVER have. And I have to be honest...sometimes I hated them for it. I loathed them with every clench of my fist, with every grit of my teeth...because I knew that every taunt, every giggle, every extended stare and snotty grin...was meant for me. It felt like they hated me...and my only defense was to hate them back.