Consumed (unofficial title)

Chapter 2

The "usual spot" is nothing more than a lamppost on the side of the school, only visited by drug dealers and angry janitors. The lack of students is exactly the reason I prefer to walk home this way rather than on the main road. Many students live in a large set of condos located just a half mile from the school; I had the privilege to live a couple hundred feet away in a small, shabby two bedroom home with only my mom. It may be home, but that doesn't make it any less embarrassing to live in.

Lucas shows up just a minute after I do, backpack half open and gym bag in hand.
"Crap!" I say, "You have practice today don't you?" I start to frown, thinking I may be doing this whole project on my own.
"It's ok, buddy!" Lucas bellows, unaware of the projection he possesses. "They can do without me for one practice, it's no big deal!"
"But you've missed several practices because of me before. Isn't this a little much?"
"Nah, coach doesn't care as long as I keep running fast and jumping high. I'll just race you to your house, and that'll be my workout for the day!" Lucas gets on the ground, raising his butt high in the air to mock a runner's set. I laugh it him, and begin walking towards the trail through the woods that would lead to my house.
At my house, Lucas and I walk up the rotting deck, pushing open the sliding door in desperate need of repair and a good cleaning. Inside, I offer Lucas food and something to drink as I usually do. He turns down the food and asks for a glass of water, as he usually does. Armed with the means to keep his body hydrated, Lucas casually throws his stuff down and walks to my room like he lives here. It's not like he hasn't earned the right to act this way, he's been my closest friend since preschool and practically lives in my home. Coming from a strict southern courtesy background however, it irks me that he does so without ever asking first. I have to focus on my project though, so I quickly forgive his minor offense and follow him in.

My room is rather big compared to the other rooms in the house, and is on the opposite end of the house as my mom's. It allows me to play my music at a reasonable volume on speakers and not be yelled at for keeping her awake. My house is a long, one floor home with only two bedrooms, a bathroom, connected kitchen and den, a sunroom, and spacious free room that's part guest room, part closet. My room has a regular sized bed, a desk built into the wall on the other side, more posters than a Newbury Comics, and dirty clothes scattered here and there. A lone antique dresser sits in one corner next to a walk in closet. The dresser is adorned with random objects, from antique utensils and toys to rocks and sea shells.
Lucas plops down in one of the two old wheelie chairs in my room. "So, how much of this project do you have left to do, Lance?"
"All of it." I reply, exhausted already just by the thought of it. "I haven't even come up with an idea yet. Hell, I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing."
"No problem!" Lucas exclaims with an irritating grin spreading across his face. "Well, the idea is to write a really short story describing one issue that you think is really important that doesn't get addressed enough..." Lucas keeps ranting, never seeming to take a breathe. I know that if I leave him to his own thinking, he'll come up with some great idea and practically do the work for me. I'm not trying to use him, I would just end up doing a worse job. Not to mention he enjoys doing the work, and never fails to get good grades. Damn it! He gets to be athletic, sociable, AND smart? Either this is a sitcom or a universal power is out to make my entire life an example of irony.
All I want is to have a few good friends, a reasonably bright future, enough stability to support myself and my mom when she's old. Instead I struggle in school, I'm an angry antisocial, and my only friend is everything I could only dream of being. To top it all off my mind doesn't help, and whenever I'm stuck thinking of how small I am and how insignificant my life will be even to the people around me who care about me I know I'm going to get Left behind in going to be stuck With nothing to dO but conSume conSUMe CONSUMe CONSUME-

"Lance!" Lucas quickly tosses me back into consciousness. I can see a pencil in his hand and fresh paper spread on the table. I can also see the worried look on his face similar to the one earlier today. "It happened again, didn't it?"

Well of course I had already told Lucas, they say talking about your issues helps, right?

"Yeah." I rub my hands on my face and tug on my ear a little, a nervous habit I've had as long as I can remember.
"And it happened earlier too, right? In English?" I give him a weary nod. "You know this is only getting worse..."
"I know," I shoot back at him, a littler harsher than intended. "I just... There isn't anything that can be done about it right now. I'll just suck it up."
Lucas does NOT like that answer. "Hey man, you're not the only one being affected by this. It kills me to see you being put through this!"
I should hold back, but it had been a long day and I'm in no mood for people pleasing. "Oh it affects you too, huh Lucas? How many intrusive thoughts do you get everyday? How many times has your mind been filled with images that make you want to claw at your brain until they go away? If it hurts you so much to WATCH someone else be put through this, why stick around then? Go ahead and leave!"

Lucas sits still, holding my stare with just as much conviction as I do. His expression softens, realizing we were getting worked up for nothing. He picks up the pencil, and begins to scratch out a quick draft of my project. Just like that, Lucas has deescalated a situation I would have kept a grudge from for days on my own. Athletic, sociable, smart, and now reasonable. That's irony.