Endless

Chapter Two

I head back into Mechanics after talking to Mr. Lane and sit down on the stool next to the car I'm working on and look at the ground. His words keep playing in my head. "You should fight back" Of course I have thought of fighting back but wouldn't that just make shit worse? I don't not fight back because I can't, I don't fight back because that has always seemed the best thing to do. "You should fight back"

I shake the thought from my head once I realize there is somebody standing in front of me. By the look of there shoes, it's a girl. I follow the shoes upward until I meet the persons eyes. God, not her again. Amanda Stone, the lead cheerleader, school slut, and my personal stalker.

"What?" I snap at her rudely.

"I was wondering if you would want to come to a party this weekend at my house... and be my date for the party......" Not caring what she has to say, I tune her out and turn towards the toolbox. I grab a socket wrench and get to work. Once she realizes that I haven't been listening to a word she's been saying to me, she huffs in annoyance and says "C'mon babe it'll be fun, I'll personally make sure you have a lot of fun." she says with a sly grin and a wink. God she needs to be shut the fuck down.

"No." I say in return, chuckling lowly at her stupidity, "Now go away, because my opinion of 'fun' doesn't include catching an STD"

I look up to see her face red with embarrassment, or maybe anger? A little of both perhaps? She throws her hands up and shrieks like a she-demon before stomping away to her friends on the other side of the classroom. I honestly believe that she and her friends only joined this class so that they could stalk me more than they usually do.

I get back to work on the car and make a few tweaks here and there after changing the oil. Once I'm finished I look over at the clock on the wall and see that first period is going to end in a few minutes. I wipe my hands off on the cloth I carry around in my back pocket. Just as I'm gathering up my shit the bell rings and I head to AP English with Mr. Rogers. Surprised? Yeah I thought so. Although I live in a hell house, according to the IQ test I took last year, I'm a certified fucking genius.

Arriving in class I head to the back corner by the window, where hopefully nobody with try to fuck with me. I sit down and toss my backpack under the desk and get out my sketch book and continue to draw a picture of my fathers bloody knuckles. The bell rings a few minutes later and Mr. Rogers starts to drone on and on about Shakespeare and his 'magnificent' work throughout his lifetime, and I could honestly care less, I tune him out and continue drawing the picture, shading in the blood and cuts to make them look more realistic. I'm so engrossed in the drawing that I don't realize that somebody was calling my name until the dude next to me clears his throat to get my attention. I look over and he jerks his head towards the front of class where Mr. Rogers is looking at me with an irritated look on his face. Oops.

"Uh, what was the question Mr. Rogers?" I say to him, assuming he asked me a question and by the look on his face, I would say my assumption was true.

"I asked you, Mr. Black, what you thought about Shakespeare's work?" He repeats to me. I pretend to think for a second and then I shrug my shoulders and say,

"I don't think that Shakespeare's work was all that great, it was boring and predictable to me. I would rather read about Golf, the most boring sport ever invented, than read ANY of Shakespeare's 'works of art and literature'." By the stunned look of the people around me and the teacher, they probably weren't expecting more than an "I dunno." Just because I'm big, good looking and quiet they assume that I'm some kind of dumb jock or some shit.

Just as Mr. Rogers was recovering from his stupidity, the bell rings signaling the end of second period and the beginning of lunch. I shove my shit in my black backpack and sling it over one shoulder as I walk out the door in search of some food. I get to the lunch room and stand in line for food. I get a cheeseburger, fries, a soda, and four granola bars. Before you ask, I get the granola bars for this homeless kid I see when I walk home everyday, he looks hungry so I started buying him the bars last year and now its pretty much an everyday thing. I pay for my shit and walk to the back of the cafeteria and turn right at the last table, going over to where me and my friends Lucas, Kaden, Justin, Brody, Carl and Daryl sit for lunch.

My friends acknowledge my existence with a nod and a few say 'Hey Xander.' I nod in return and take a bite of my food before looking up at my friends when I realize that they have fallen into a deathly hush since I arrived.

"What?" I say around my bite of food.

"What the fuck happened to you dude? Why do you got blood all over your shirt man?" Justin asks me after a few seconds of silence. My friends and the whole entire cafeteria are silent, waiting for my answer. Damn, you could hear a pen drop right now. And I find it surprising that nobody asked me about the blood before Justin did.

I shallow my food and answer, "I got into a fight this morning before school started, shit was crazy." I chuckle at the end hoping they would just drop it.

Kaden Laughs and says, "Well, whoever it was sure did a number on you, did you even get a punch in?"

Just as I'm about to answer him somebody plops onto the seat next to me and slings there arm around my shoulders. "Ya, did you even get a punch in Black?" the person laughs and I look over to see Landon Marshall, the QB for the football team, and the reason jocks are called dumb. "I also heard that you turned down Amanda this morning, I would hit that man, she is hot as fuck." he continues.

Why the fuck is this fucking prick touching me? Haven't I made it clear enough that nobody in this fucking school should touch me? Dear god. I swear. Practically every fight I have been in was because someone touched me. And it seems that everyone has yet to get the fucking memo that I don't like to be touched.

"I'll hit you if you don't remove your fucking arm from my shoulders Landon." I growl murderously at him. After a few tense seconds of silence he moves his arm, stands up and starts to back away a little when I stand as well.

"Pfft, what the fuck you gonna do about it you pussy." Landon says once he believes he's a 'safe' distance away from me. Trying to act tough in front of all your buddies are ya? Little does he know that no distance between us could ever deter me or keep him safe from me, i'm not even safe from myself. I hear one of my friends mutter that 'shit is about to go down.'

I stalk towards him slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, but in this case I'm the predator and he's my prey. The only thing I can thank my dad for is my fighting ability, my dad was a professional fighter before he became a drunk and I've learned a thing or two over the years. I take a few more steps toward him and stop about 3 feet away waiting for him to make a move, and he does. He swings his right fist at my head sluggishly, I block it with my forearm and then sock him in his ribs 3 times with my right fist, hard. He cries out in pain like a pussy and tries to hit me again, only for me to dodge and punch him in the face, I can feel and hear his nose and cheekbone break and it brings me satisfaction as my fist comes back with his blood on it.

I hear some people gasp, some cringe at the sound and some cuss out a shit, damn, fuck, and somebody saying 'that's what he gets for messing with a psychotic fucker.' I chuckle and reach over and grab Landon by his neck and throw him to the ground so I can kick him in the ribs. Take that, have a little taste of what I get everyday you preppy rich bitch. I keep hitting him until somebody tells me to stop. I look over and see that its one of his football buddies, I sneer at him and he shrinks back. Looking down at Landon, I see that he is out cold and is bleeding all over the damn place, but he is breathing. I look back up and sigh, grab my shit and throw away the garbage, everyone is parting like a great sea to let me through.

People are looking at me with fear, some with envy, lust, anger, and some this unreadable expression. But the one look that fucks with me the most is the look of pride on this one kids face. Who the fuck would ever be proud of me? I'm a monster in human skin. I'm worthless and that expression makes me sick.

I guess you can say I get that from my father as well, my anger. Once I'm mad its hard to calm me down and I tend to get violent.

Before I can make it out of the lunch room I am suddenly tackled by somebody, I struggle.

"Stop resisting arrest Mr. Black or you'll be in even more trouble." I'm assuming a police officer says to me. And with that I stop struggling and let him and his colleague put the cuffs on me. He stands me up and I mumble out," Sorry, I didn't know who was tackling me, I guess i'm a bit jumpy right now."

He says nothing just marches me down the hallway towards the office while hundreds of pairs of eyes watch and gossip as I pass them. Extremely amused, I feel a shit eating grin find its way onto my face and I laugh out loud for the first time in a long time.

I'm fucked.