Well Beyond Expectation

Chapter Seven.

Weston

It's been six weeks since school started back.

Six weeks of bullshit tests and studying. Six weeks of bullshit parties I don't even enjoy anymore. Six weeks of hangovers from said parties where I drank too much just trying to forget the truth and convince myself that I'm fine with this being my life. But even six damn weeks of pretending can't make something suddenly true.

I hate myself.

Not just because of that night, though that is a huge part of it. I hate myself in general. I don't know if I ever really liked myself before, or if I was just too distracted to wonder if I'm a good person or not. But the last six weeks have given me plenty of time to come to the realization that I'm in fact, not a good person, and I do actually hate myself.

I never realized how much things I did affected other people until now. I'm so sick and tired of this whole scene I've become a part of. Even, and I hate to say this, but even the girls aren't doing it for me anymore. It's only an hour escape at the most and then I'm right back to being stuck with myself and feeling like shit for using Tammy or Jenifer or Rebecca or whoever else was around when I felt weak. They all want more from me than just sex, but that's all I've got. They don't deserve to be used by me.

I'm a bomb. No good for anyone because sooner or later I'm going to blow up and destroy everything and everyone in my path just like I always do. I destroy.

I keep a big fake smile pasted to my face as I casually walk through the halls, high fives this way, a wink that way, until finally I'm in my Chemistry class.

It's one of the very few good parts of my day because it's the only time I'm around Lena. I never in a million years would think I'd enjoy spending time with her, but she is literally the only other person who seems to see me as I am. She hates me just as much as I hate myself and I find some comfort in knowing I don't have to fake around her. She already knows I'm a bomb. She's felt the blast herself.

I go for our table but worry sets in when she isn't already sitting there.

Lena is never absent. Something must be wrong.

I go to leave the room but Daniels gives me a look and holds up his clipboard of demerits. I sigh, knowing if I get another one I'll be in detention after school which will mean running suicides for coach and not being able to stop by her house to check on her.

It's not something I do everyday, but most. She never knows about it, I just pull quick little drivebys to be sure she's ok. I chuckle to myself a little as I take a seat. I sound like such a dumbass.

Checking in on little Lena.

It's not like by driving by there I can tell if she's even home. Her uncle always is though, which is weird, but I guess he got new hours at work or something. He probably wanted to be around more to look out for her or some shit. Lena always has people looking out for her like she's a lost little lamb.

You're one of them, dumbass. I have to remind myself. I always remind myself of the reason and my stomach hurts. I can still hear the gunshot ringing out in my ears.

I double forward on the table for a second, pressing my forehead to the smooth cool top and then sit up like nothing is wrong. I'm the picture of high school perfection again. I'm just Weston Ford, great football player, great lay, great friend....that lie doesn't quite sell anymore since I got the only real friend I had killed.

Class begins and I get to work as soon as Daniels is done prattling off about how smart he thinks he is for coming up with this super enriching lab for us.