Seeking Smiles//Slow Updates

three

Gripping my backpack straps tightly, I walk quickly down the hallway. I try not to meet the eyes of any passerby. Staring at the ground helps immensely.

I move close to the lockers so no one has to move out of my way, because I know that no one would. I'm nearly invisible to them. They would ram into my shoulders, trying to knock me down. That's why I keep everything in my backpack, securely fastened onto my back. My stuff won't be scattered all over the floor if I do get pushed around.

One positive thing about being a junior this year is I don't get nearly as much shit from everyone. It's not necessarily that I'm scarier or more likely to beat your ass, but I am bigger. Not muscle wise, but height. Somehow I've had a major growth spurt over the summer becoming over six foot tall. I'm about six foot three. Sure it helps out with my reputation of being the loner and kind of a dick at school, but it sure as hell hurt while I was growing. Thankfully, that should be over now. If I get even taller, I don't know what I'll do. I'll be an absolute giant.

I mean, some kids are afraid I will beat their asses, but I won't. I mostly leave kids alone so they leave me alone. I don't show any kind of vulnerability or kindness because if I do, there will be a gang of idiots tailing behind me almost everyday. I've seen it happen multiple times.

I don't use my locker and I'm not even certain where it's located. Somewhere down by the east exit, I think.

Malaki is a freshman and he is in the same school as I am every weekday, but I never see him. We have opposite schedules where we don't share the same lunch or free period or anything. I might pass him occasionally in the five minutes between each class, but there isn't enough time to exchange hellos, so there certainly isn't time to stop.

Sliding into a desk in the back of the room, I wish for seating arrangements like middle school. When the teachers assigned your seat to be the same every time, you always had someone to sit by you, and even if they didn't want to, they had to. Here in high school, that isn't the case. No one ever wants to sit in my general area, so I'm normally just an isolated desk in the back of the room. It's fine, however, I never want to talk anyway.

I slide a hand through my dark hair and pull out my earbuds. I shove one into my ear and let the other dangle down beside my chest. Leaning on my elbow, I stare up at the front of the classroom. Boring as ever, a smart board that we don't use anymore because they don't work, and whiteboards with nonsense written all over them.

I don't care. School is easy and I barely have to try. Only listening halfway is enough for me. I got lucky with that I think. The only thing I ever have had any luck on happens to be school which doesn't even prove to have a meaning in my future at the moment. If I even have much of a future left.

My teacher doesn't care what I do either. She just knows that somehow I get a good grade on my test. Maybe she thinks I cheat off answers from my phone, but she's shown no curiosity to figure it out. I'm perfectly fine with her thinking I cheat, but I don't. If I do get in trouble for "cheating" there won't be any guilt in me to find.

The teacher starts to stand up to begin whatever lesson she's teaching today. She glances back at me once as I slip the other earbud into my ear before she starts talking. I kind of feel bad for not knowing her name, but I can't ask now. I've been in this class for over a year since I started this last year.

Before I can look down to doodle pointless things on a scrap piece of paper, the door to the classroom flings open.

My eyes flick to the door and focus back on my desk. I shouldn't be interested in whoever opened the door and what they came in here for.

I instead listen to my music; the bass kicks of the drums and the way the piano flows along, matching all perfectly with the vocals. I'd kill for a guitar. I'd kill to be in a choir where I had a good voice. I'd kill for anything musical really. I've just never had enough money to afford anything. Oh well, I've learned to live with it.