The man looked up from where he was grading papers; the usual second period routine of Hell. The rest of the class was enjoying their study hall, if you would call that enjoyable.
A student hurried in to the band room and sidestepped all the chairs in the room that were spread out as random as stars.
"What are you doing out of class?" The music director asked with curiosity rather than a serious tone.
"It's homecoming!" And the student disappeared into the cage room, where students held their instruments, or at least that's what was intended. They also served as a place for hanging out and an extra locker.
The student came out, the study hall class looked intently at him.
"Go back to class, you're not even in band."
"That's not important." And the student disappeared around the corner.
___________________________
"Ughhh, Sister kicked my ass with a test today."
"Maybe if you studied.."
"Shhhhh."
The trio of band kinds walked into the band room (referred to commonly as 'House'), and went in to the cage room where their conversation continued. There was a few moments of slightly hushed whisper, and then an outrage of yelling.
The teacher looked up from his 'office'.
"What's this?" A student, followed quickly by the other two, rushed out of the cage room.
"What is that?" The teacher got up and examined it; not surprised it was a request to meet at the field goal farthest to the school.
"It's someone trying to ask another someone to homecoming."
"Well I found it in my locker so.."
That, was surprising. He remembered a student walking in saying something about homecoming. And said student was male, and of course, said student had to ask Mr. Temperamental out.
"Okay, anyways, I'm going to go down there."
"And you think that's a good idea?"
"Well, yeah, besides, if anything bad happens I'll punch the kid in the face!"
Everyone believed him.
The student hoisted his bag on his shoulder and went outside. Anybody who tried to follow was stopped, "this is special."
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It was an easy walk down, and when I jumped over the fence, it felt even easier to walk across the turf.
I stopped and took off my shoes, let my socks get stained and then decided to just walk barefoot to the end zone farthest from the school.
My feet tickled a bit when I walked and the turf graced over my sole. The music of previous shows replaying in my head as I stared at the empty bleachers.
I got to the end zone a lot quicker than I imagined, and not surprised that no one was there.
I made some strides around the goal to the back, where a sticky note was placed. The figure showed a rough drawing of the Cross-Country trail, where a certain spot was marked along the path. Oh great, they're making me walk, what a pussy.
There was a small undertone of anxiety, like a countermelody at pianissimo. It was there, yes, but not that noticeable; not that important. Because curiosity overpowered the anxiety.
All this stuff I thought about on the way there. Mostly the thoughts were on why would somebody ask out a skinny boy, who discreetly disobeyed almost every rule, changed moods faster than light speed, or simply him in general. I know a lot better people then myself, who aren't so caught up in stress and self-misery that they can actually live productive lives.
I walked along the cross-country track with my English teacher and her friend for a while, before I discreetly left the conversation with a rock throw and a jump through the underbrush.
More walking barefoot, stupid.
I examined the paper again, this was the spot; stupid trail leading to whatever meeting I had to attend. I sighed, and walked forward into the lightly lit thicket.
I whistled some songs; this was turning out to be a strangely long walk. My anxiety thumped a tad bit harder, but it was quickly pushed down again by reason. Disbelief allowed me to pick up a nice look club of a stick.
This trail did seem awfully long though...
it was at that moment that my meager 'club' was taken from my hands and was thrown to the side.
My little hands were grabbed and I was forced to the ground in some kind of wrestling grab, that I didn't know nor did I care to know. But the only thing you need to know about my skinny arms, is that they were pinned and I couldn't do anything.
"I'm going to assume you got the note."
"I'm going to assume you're the one who wrote it."
Then, right in my ear, I heard "about-face", barely audible above a whisper, and I was turned around. Green eyes, round features, an average kind of nose.
I recognized him immediately; the same fucking ass who always watched us from his car parked in the barren lot of the school. Watching from a distance, always with a friend, always kept his eyes on one person and following them. I didn't know why he even bothered trying to court me, because I hardly knew anything about this guy except for the fact he always watched us.
"Oh, it's you." I said with some venom that was not intended.
"Hey there, cutie."
"I'm going to bite your arm until I've ripped the veins out myself, and if you don't believe me, you c-."
Lips.
Okay, nope, nope, nope.
Instinct do your thing.
Ah, blood, perfect!
"What the fuck, dude!"
I ripped away from him, this was supposed to be casual meeting, but now it was turning into a fight.
"I think I should be asking that question!" I challenged. "I hardly even know you! For fuck's sake I don't even know your name!"
He was holding his lip with his thumb, but when he realized that wasn't working, he put his sweatshirt to his bottom lip.
He turned away, and whimpered a bit. Don't you dare play that puppy dog bullshit.
"Sorry." He said.
No, no, body, stop.
"I'll give you a chance, though."
Fuck you.
He turned around; oh fuck you and your hopeful look.
One of these days, my boner will rip itself off from my fucking pelvis.
"Don't think of this as anything more than two guys trying to get to know each other."
And with that I walked away.
-----------------------------------
"So how did it go?"
"This well.." I showed him my bit lip, still bleeding too.
"He did that?!"
"Yeah, after I kissed him..."
"You're not mad?"
"I feel kind of guilty, but-."
"I'm going to kill this stupid kid!"
"Okay there tough guy, it's fine, he actually wants to get to know me."
"He does? Why? What is he, high?"
"No, apparently I kiss well enough for him to not hate me..."
"The fuck?"
"Yep. Thinking the same thing."
I went back to drawing.
"Do me a favor.."
"Yes?"
"Tell me if he's a good fuck."
I pushed him away from my ledge.
-----------------------------------
Wow, I can't believe I bit his lip.
I fucking drew blood, and I drank that shit too!
Besides the fact that being really bad for you.
I.
Bit.
His.
Lip.
And then I felt the guilt blossom in the pit of my stomach.
You monster! And an idiot too! Why would you accept that request, you've probably confused him to Hell and back, what's wrong with you?
You're so desperate, aren't you!
Well you've done it now, might as well get it over with. Go see a movie or some shit like that.
I grabbed my phone and undid my belt,
only one way to take care of this...
