At the Back of The Class

The Stupid Wallet

You've never written down notes as fast in your lifetime, it wasn't that you were so eager and invested in the topic, it was just that the teacher was speaking at a pace too fast to be comfortable in and you would rather go die in a pit than ask questions. But still, somehow, you managed to find the time to add little doodles at the edges, they weren't anything extravagant to look at but you found beauty in how goofy it appeared. And now you weren't in the mood to let anybody tell you that it was just a stick man and a few squiggles. To you, it was the masterpiece of the century.

While your mind went in and attempted a sufficient autopilot, you let yourself idly drown in thoughts of other things, other places, and other times. It was certainly more interesting than whatever the teacher was babbling on about. Occasionally, you started giving fleeting glances to your seatmate, who you eyed over making sure he didn't have that stupid blue smudge on his face. His sleeve? Well, you weren't sure if there was anything you could do about that. So you just stared at it as you would if it were a fly that circled around your sandwich, unsure of what to do next. Since now that everything had settled down for you, you could safely suffocate in your thoughts, you figured it was the most optimal time to get strangled in dreading guilt.

Ventus said it was fine. That it was okay. That he didn't mind. But did he really? You wondered how he'd react if it was someone else who he had more history with. He could've just been acting nice because you were the new kid and he didn't want to go all ham on you, or he was just that polite to ignore his own feelings like that.

Was he lying? Was he lying? Was he lying?

Those words echoed through your head till they almost lost their meaning.

Roxas on the other hand made it clear that he hated you. No, hate was a strong word. It just seemed like that because from what you can tell, he's just generally cranky to everyone, including his own brother. But you were probably wrong. He might as well loathe your existence, only controlling himself because again, you were new. But even if it wasn't hate, there was a degree of disdain found in the way he looked at you, which was totally fair. And plus, you looked at yourself way worse than that.

Axel who you couldn't help but imagine as a lionfish in a past life, didn't seem to care all that much for you. Only really looking at the wonderful show you put up for homeroom. Xion was friendly, but you didn't know if she'd stick around or was just being nice.

With that in mind, you concluded that they'd never want to talk to you or care to after that bomber of an introduction.

So then, what now? Even if you'd put a few pieces together, that really didn't do you much of a service.

Huh.

It seemed like the skeletons of seemingly dead insecurities just rose up from the grave and reared their ugly heads at you, daring you to say anything to them.

Well wasn't that just pleasant?

But you were you, and that meant that pleasant moments disappear quicker than money. And this time, it was by the fact that you were forcibly pulled out of your thoughts rather rudely when you heard a grim calling.

"[Name]? Was it?" The teacher's voice boomed rather coldly, making your heart drop, along with the pen you forgot you were holding.

Suddenly, the back seat didn't seem as lucky as you thought it would be anymore.

Your hands shaking from under the table, you curled your nails into a fist, digging it into your palm as you reply in a soft volume, "Yes?"

"Could you remind us what colonialism is?"

All of a sudden, your brain blanked and flailed around hopelessly, with the only thing you could think of at the moment is FUCK, FUCK, FUCK while one obnoxious radio ad played in the background. How incredibly helpful.