The Normals

Coward

It was currently exactly twelve thirty in the afternoon (my lunch hour), and I was sitting in an area you would rarely spot me.

The football field.

Biting my apple, I stared off in a dumb daze from the metal bleachers. I was the only one sitting on what were know as the guest bleachers, or the "shitty" benches, for the opposing team's fans. They were indeed shitty. Between the uncomfortable metal that was making my ass numb and the bright sun blinding me, I would have to agree that they sucked. All the while, a group of stoners sat on the opposite side of the field, on the "swag" bleachers.

I couldn't help but glare in annoyance as they blazed up in the nice, cool shade. Fuck them and their pot.

So, you might be wondering why I am sitting on these shitty bleachers by myself at lunch instead of eating in my normal sanctuary with Mia.

Well, the solution was quite simple. I am a coward who would rather run from her problems, rather them face them. To be more specific, Mia was my current problem.

After spotting her locking lips with my English teacher, Mr. Johanson, I made a quick decision to just avoid her all together. I figured if I ignored her, the issue would go away. However, Mia was making my plan extremely difficult.

For example, in Chemistry she immediately sensed there was something wrong, asking me if everything was alright. I silenced her questions with a blunt "I'm fine", and simply stared at the front board for the rest of the class. I hadn't seen her since. Nor did I really want too, hence the reason why I was stationed out here on this horrible metal bench, glaring at the four stoners who were as high as the sky on the opposite bleachers.

I ate the rest of my meal and set down the plastic tray next to me.

There were very loud crackles of deranged laughter sounding from the teens across from me, irritating me to no end. I growled, digging for my white ear buds in my backpack. There was no way in hell that I would listen to that noise all hour. I untangled my headphones and plugged them into my phone, scrolling for the perfect song to listen to.

However, right when I was about to sprawl out onto my back, a voice caught my attention.

"I didn't peg you to be a stoner."

I jumped at the voice and quickly sat up, throwing my earbuds off. When my eyes fell down over a familiar, lanky figure. It had been awhile since I last saw him, but it was still a surprise to see his appearance had changed slightly. The ebony hair I had become accustomed to was now bleached out to a fair blonde, and he now had a new silver piercing on his eyebrow. "I'm not a stoner." I defended, turning my body to look down at him.

Jett shrugged like he didn't care about my reply as he lazily crossed his arms over a lower bleacher, putting his chin on his arms whilst looking up at me with his droopy grey eyes. "So are you a stoner then?" I mumbled coldly, not pleased with his accusations.

Jett was silent for a moment. I saw his eyes quickly flicker over the the group of teens who sat on the other set of benches before returning to me. "I used to be." He admits softly. "But shit changes." Jett's tone recovers quickly as he moves to climb up the bench. "Besides," His says, moving gracefully as he makes his way up the bleaches. And within seconds, he is seated next to me. "Weed is overrated anyway."

I can't help but laugh.

"So why are you out here?" He asks, glancing at my lunch tray in confusion. "You normally don't eat here, do you?"