whatever ;; tradley

The Part You Might Call An Introduction

I should start this off by saying one thing: high school sucks.

The reason why high school sucks so bad isn't because of the stereotypical reasons you'll read about in cliché teen novels. It's not because you're lonely and you don't have friends, or asshole teachers assign you two essays per week, or girls never want to date you (or even look you straight in the eye, in my case). It's because you can never, never, be on good terms with everybody.

Seriously. I don't think I spoke a word until six months into sophomore year, and there were still people that hated my guts. Self-righteous football meatheads who would shove me against a locker if I happened to be in the hall when they were walking through. Britney Spears wannabes who laugh at you when you drop your lunch tray or trip on your shoelaces. Even a teacher once told me I was 'off-putting.'

But that was in my first two years of high school. Since then, I've had a system. A golden rule, if you will: just don't be friends with anybody.

Seriously. Trust me. It works.

The thing is, the drama and the fighting and the hate all start with other people. Usually, if you're like me, and you try to stay out of literally everything, you have at least a few friends who manage to get themselves into, if not literally everything, at least something. And those bastards pull you right down with them.

That sounds a little cynical, and maybe even a little evil, but it's true. I like to call it 'Hate by Association.' If you've got a friend that has someone that hates them, all it's gotta take is to see you hanging out with them, for them to start hating you, too. Really, all of those times back in freshman and sophomore year, when I was getting death stares and scoffs from people I didn't even know, none of that was even about me. It was about my friends, who weren't even really my friends, since we only ate lunch together, occasionally went to the park, and one time we stole a bottle of vodka and got really drunk in the woods. But other than that, we didn't even do anything.

Anyways - because of my dad's work, I ended up going to Thailand for almost the entire summer between sophomore and junior year, which sounds nice, but really I just got all sunburnt, but it also meant I didn't get to see my awkward group of 'friends' for three months, and they kind of forgot about me. Which was great. Junior year, I didn't hang out with anyone. No one at all. And no one gave a shit about me. No more glares or shoves. All I had to do was occasionally go up to someone I kind of knew and ask them questions like:

"How was your summer?"

"Dude, this English essay is killing me."

"Nice haircut, Joe."

Shit like that. Shit no one even really cares about talking about. But it's all I need to keep me from getting close to anybody, without also seeming like the creepiest person ever. 

And yeah, I guess there's probably someone out there who still hates me, even though they haven't got a reason, but if they're out there, well, they aren't giving me any trouble. 

I know high school doesn't last forever. Honestly, after this year I don't think I'll even bother going to college, because that'll just be even worse. I think after high school I'll finally be free. Maybe then I'll make some friends, and get a job, and find some 'peace' or 'fulfillment' or 'love.' Or whatever else Dr. Phil is saying you need to be happy these days.  

You probably think I'm a terrible person. You probably also think my life sucks because I am a terrible person. You're right about the first thing, and half-right about the second. My life was pretty okay up until this one day. It was September of my senior year, about two weeks after classes started. I can remember that day: The Fateful Day When Tristan's Life Started To Suck. Of course, I didn't know I was going to brand it as that until much later. Because, like most days that are the start of something awful, it actually started out pretty normal. I remember wearing my favorite shoes that day. And I remember it was really sunny and hot, even though it's usually freezing cold in my town.

I also remember smiling while I was walking to class, because I was feeling really good that day. So far, everything that had worked last year was working this year. And even though last year wasn't spectacular, I was pretty damn excited about everyone not wanting to kill me. No one was saying particularly bad things today, either. Most of the conversation was normal. Boring, regular stuff - which makes me happy, because I'd prefer the student body not trying to tear itself apart. It was dumb conversation like:

"Your makeup looks good today." A girl who was wearing bright pink pants that showed her thong and high heels that made her feet look like squished sausages.

"Would you bang Katie Turner?" A football player I had classes with, who had a habit of falling asleep in class.

"I'm supposed to get my test results back today." A short boy with with huge eyes and curly brown hair, who was talking slowly into his phone and running a hand through his hair.

The short boy looked kind of nervous, but I wasn't really thinking about that. Mostly I was just thinking about how happy I was that nothing important or serious was going on today. He hung up and looked at me, realizing I'd heard what he said.

"Tests," I shook my head, not even really looking at him. "I've been there."

And then I started walking again, but I sort of brushed against him as I walked past him. I said "sorry" casually, and he had a really weird look in his eyes. And he still looked really nervous. 

"Don't, uh -" I almost laughed, mostly because I felt sort of awkward. "Don't stress. It's just a test. It's not a life-or-death situation."

He walked away.

I didn't give it a second thought.

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disclaimer: this story is loosely based off of the 2012 novel 'Me and Earl and the Dying Girl.' all rights go to Jesse Andrews, the publication, etc. blah blah blah.

disclaimer #2: this is my first wattpad story. so please be nice :)