Being Shot

P h o t o #10 - Stage Curtains

P h o t o #10 - Stage Curtains

~Cooper's POV~

As we all quietly sat in World History, which was a struggle for me all on it's own, I tried in vain to keep myself awake by balancing a pencil on my nose.

It didn't work one bit. I was still head-splittingly bored.

I quietly huffed in defeat, not wanting to disrupt the class and get in trouble as our older-than-dirt teacher lectured for the entire fifty minute duration of fifth period. I looked down at my empty notebook, the one I was supposed to fill with notes for the upcoming test, but instead filled with doodles and drawings. I smiled at the one I had drawn of all the five of us. My friends. The ones I cherished so much. It was a god awful drawing, just plain stick figures. I never was an artist, I even got a D in art class two years ago. I had to suppress a laugh, looking at my terrible drawings always made me feel a bit better in boring classes.

I supported my head with my right palm and started to day dream, staring off at a poster with an awkward portrait of George Washington printed on it.

I thought about how weird it was this year, or how unusual this last month and a half was. Usually for the tradition everyone loved so much we picked a girl nothing like Emmy, because, well, she was the ony girl who stayed in the shadows and didn't try to stand out in this school to put it simply. It was easy for her to just easily hide in plain sight, it was even ideal for her according to her standards. But here we were now, basically friends. At least, that's what I thought. I didn't know what Elliot or the others felt about the situation that inevitably stuck all of us together. Maybe I was the ony one who found her as my friend. I honestly didn't know how I should feel about that.

It was so different. The girls we usually picked always went to parties with us almost every weekend, tried to get drunk and to get us to drink (though I hadn't ever, I couldn't say the same for the others, even if they are responsible about it), break the law in any way they could, and many other idiotic things that I would've effortlessly went along with to please them. That we all would've went along with, just so we could keep our lives going smoothly and distanced from others.

Actually, I enjoyed hanging out with Emmy the most out of all of the girls we had ever chosen. She was very kind, even if she tried to hide it under a stern exterior.

I smiled to myself again, but it was cut short as the door flew open. My eyes scanned the area as Elliot walked in. Eyes wide, I had to keep myself from standing straight up and asking him what had happened, and why he was so late. Anxiousness flooded my blood stream as memories of last year played reruns in my brain.

I knew Parker and Jonas, who sat behind me in the class, had the same way of thinking as me at the time, but with one swift look from Elliot, stern, but tired hazel eyes, we all calmed down if only a bit. It was the look that said, "I'll explain everything after class."

Elliot handed our now baffled teacher a pass and sat down with a small grunt next to me. I peaked at him, but he hadn't noticed. He fell asleep right there at his desk, but the teacher payed no mind to him, returning to his lecturing self once again.

I suddenly felt a bit dejected. I had a feeling it was the usual personal drama with Elliot, even though it had died down since last year, there was always something going on. And we couldn't do anything about it. Every time there was a problem he would always come in late or even skip school, and when he did come in he always had dark circles under his eyes.

He usually hid his problems, not letting us see him in this drowsy state. At least not at school. He never liked it when people would pity him, or worry for that matter. It had been like this for as long as I could remember. This time it was different though, he was actually letting his weakness almost show at the moment. I wondered if his sense of secureness had something to do with Emmy too.