Loving You In the Dark

Chapter 1 - For Myself

I tugged on the black cap on top of my head tightly; making it slightly shield my eyes from everybody. 

The cool pavement in comparison to the wet grass we ran on at P.E. made me relieved and more-at-ease, knowing that my shoes and socks wouldn't have to be drenched in smelling sweat and fresh mildew. After all, the freshly cut grass stung my sinuses with a strong smell of fertilizer and in the faint distances, dog shit. And seeing idiots spit out their gum, disgustingly chewed with remnants of their saliva, into each oddly vibrant, crisp shard of grass made me want to hurl and revolt from taking another step into the grass.

It was one of those blazing hot, Californian transition from summer to fall, kind of days. Even when it was still quite early in the morning, my skin still felt scorched and extremely warm from the heat, and from running the 2nd mile in a week. Something that I'm fortunately good at, because all my mile times are under 7 minutes; but strategically, if you just understood the constant rate of speed you would run, how you would save up your energy without getting too tired, and finally what shoes you should wear; running the mile was only a matter of easiness if practiced thoroughly.

One foot in front of the other, I practically forced myself to keep on walking to my 3rd period class. I acknowledge and know that everybody in my classes think I must enjoy school to get my wonderful, outstanding grades, but that is truly a large understatement. 

Because I fucking hate school, but I love getting good grades and getting praised for them. 

Fuck, the thought of liking school made me abhor with hatred because there was almost no reason for me to enjoy going to school. If I had the choice I would rather be home-schooled, so I wouldn't have to answer exasperating questions, and refuse to do absurd requests, like let someone copy my assignments, just because they couldn't pick up their fucking pencil and do it themselves. 

As I stepped into the classroom I was greeted by my history teacher's side-eye on my hat, reprimanding me with her eyes to take it off.

Bitch, you fuck off.

This teacher was extremely annoying and was almost useless; she gave her students so many projects on different units with no intent on teaching them at all. She would pile mounds of homework and then a week-long project for a cherry-on-top, all to be due in two days. And then she pretended that she was a super-fun type of teacher just because she let us listen to music while we worked our asses off.

"Mr. So, please take off your hat. This is going to be the last time I tell you this; you should know by now," 

I reluctantly took off my hat and set it aside my middle-row desk. My face felt more exposed to the public eye, even if nobody really took a glance at me, it still was unsettling however. My dark brown orbs were night sky, even in the brightest of light, which made it stranger to stare into them. 

As I felt a finger on my shoulder, I automatically flinched away, jerking the hand away from me. No matter how much I tried to stop myself, it was an ever-lasting habit of mine; even if it made me look autistic as fuck. 

I looked over my shoulder as I ran my eyes through his familiar gray-ish irises, his unkept black hair, and my nose catching a whiff of his recognizable scent of paint, and rubber. The corners of his mouth turned into a smile as soon as he caught me looking at him, bringing me into a good, hearty hug by wrapping one arm around my shoulders.

I returned the hug with my ever-present scowl and hard-set, bored eyes that drilled through his soul, because I honestly liked making him queasy and think that we aren't friends. 

Because we aren't.

Whatever Samuel "Ass"ington is under the influence of, him and I are not friends, merely acquaintances, classmates, schoolmates.