I Wish That You Knew My Name {mxm} | Love is Love

1; Nick Burton

Dedicating this chapter to the lovely inkling_! Thank you so much for all your support, AJ :D x

I walked as quickly as my legs could take me, through the sea of students rushing back and forth from their classes. With my binder pressed tightly to my chest to ensure I took up as little space as possible, I kept my head down as I fought against the shoulders and elbows that  jostled me around the hall. I looked up and could make out the open doorway of room 381, my English class, at the end of the hall.

The overwhelming amount of bodies and lack of personal space didn't bother me nearly as much as they had in my freshman year. Then, it hadn't been unusual for me to fight off a panic attack in the middle of a crowded hallway or the cafeteria. Things were different, now that I was a senior. I considered myself a bit of a lone wolf, knowing that not much thought or attention was given to someone in the hallway unless they were causing a scene. I knew that even in a class or hall or room full of people, you could still feel as lonely as you would sitting alone in your room at night, crying into your pillow. It was a sad reality for some - for those who only looked for and saw the good in the world and the people in it, - but accepting that was what made even the thought of high school much easier for me.

"Hello, Alex." The teacher greeted me unenthusiastically as I entered the class. He was hardly paying attention to me, sitting at his desk and going through a stack of papers. Tests, I thought after seeing Mr. Josiah highlight a block of text on a rubric. I was never sure how he knew who was who, coming in trough the door, without even looking. My usual assumption, though, was that he used his peripheral vision. Or his superpower that he must keep a secret for the safety of our town, but that was another story.

"Morning, sir." I matched his tone. I made my way to my usual seat, towards the back of the class, before placing my binder on the table and pulling out my chair. Landing heavily on it, I let out a sigh of annoyance: the day hadn't even officially started and I already wanted to go back to bed.

Quickly, I looked around the class. It didn't take long for me to see - or rather hear - the people that annoy me most enter pass through the door. The group was a mixture of boys and girls, although the former occupied a bigger portion. There were just over a dozen of them in our class of 25 (one hell of a ratio there, I know), but there were many more that could be seen with them at lunch and during breaks. They were like some sort of egotistical army that shared about 10 brain cells amongst each other. Sounds like a treat, doesn't it? 

"What are thooooose?" Sam boomed, pointing towards the papers in Mr. Josiah's hands.

Unable to help myself, my eyes rolled back into. I'd been hearing the same damn thing over and over for too many months. It had been funny the first few times, but it was getting to the point where my 5'11'', 140-pound self wanted to get violent.

"They are tests." He deadpanned, never even looking Sam in the eyes. I would describe the look on Mr. Josiah's face as one of those 'it's unfortunate that murder is illegal' ones. Although I wanted to laugh, I couldn't help but relate: I wore that look quite often myself.

"Now, go sit down."

The bell could barely be heard over the rumble of the class's voices and snickers as everyone took their seats. I found it funny that although they were late to every other class, they actually made the effort to make it to this one on time. I couldn't quite blame them, mind you; Mr. Josiah (unlike many teachers that simply didn't care or were happy they didn't have to deal with certain people for an entire period) didn't "tolerate tardiness," and - according to him - even just a couple of seconds after the bell meant tardiness. The punishment, depending on the number of times the person had been late, could vary from detention to copying a certain word's definition from Webster's Dictionary at least 100 times. The best and scariest thing? The count went up with each offence.