The Art Of Not Caring

s i x

It didn't get any better. Not really. Walking through the hallways that Thursday was just as bad as it bad been the day before. And the day before that and the day before that. Weird stares followed me everywhere but no one actually talked to me. Once again I wondered how Tessa could get through this and worse, endure it all with a smile on her face. What were all of these people even gossiping about all the time? Being gay might be a big deal here but surely even that couldn't offer enough talking points for a whole fucking week? I was still pondering that when I realised something: My next subject was PE. Which required changing. As in changing in a room full of people who now seemed to hate me.

The putrid sell of sweat and deodorant greeted me upon entering the changing room. It was already pretty full and I tried my best to feign invisibility, hoping no would notice me. Which was ridiculous of course. At first I thought things were finally calming down. The girls were ignoring me but no one was downright whispering or giggling. But then Kat came up to me.

"Hey... I know this is awkward but I was talking to a few girls and... I think it might be better for everyone if you changed somewhere else." She looked apologetic but the sentence still felt like a slap to the face. This was my best friend... well, ex-best friend but still. I looked around and saw that a few people had stopped changing. Some had even put their clothes back on. Because of me. I felt my cheeks turn crimson. Time seemed to slow down as I slowly grabbed my bag and walked out of the changing room. Thoughts were racing through my head, answers, explanations and protests but I stayed quiet. I desperately wanted to ask her why, why she was doing all this, where she thought I should go change instead. The boys room? But it wouldn't do anything so I kept going. I would just embarrass myself further and that was something I could gladly live without. I felt tears welling up again but refused to cry in the school. Refused to cry because of these people. I buried my fingernails into the palms of my hands, making fists. There was no one around to witness me almost losing it but that didn't make anything much better. I felt like I was on the brink of full on madness, a pit of self hatred and sorrow, like I was standing at the edge of a cliff and could fall down any second.

The decision to ditch PE was already made before I properly thought about it, I just walked out without having made up my mind about where I was going. Only when I was already there did I realise I had walked to the bleachers. No one was training outside so they were completely empty.

Sitting alone on the bleachers is about as depressing as it sounds. I was cold before even sitting down properly and thanks to the rain that night the bleachers were all wet. Grey clouds covered the sky and the accuracy in which the glum weather matched my mood was almost ironic. The urge to run back and punch Kat in the face was getting stronger by the second but the desire to crawl into a hole and never get out again still overweighed. A sharp pain in my hand forced me to finally unclench my fists. Little white crescents showed where my fingernails had been pressed. One of the crescents was stained a deep red, showing were the skin had cracked and my fingernail had drawn blood. I watched the red liquid form a drop and found myself morbidly fascinated by the extent of my anger and frustration.

"Hey. This seat taken?" The cheery voice interrupted my wallowing in pity. Tessa was standing in front of me, smiling and seemingly unfazed by the cold wind ripping at her clothes. I quickly let my hands fall to my sides, hoping she hadn't seen the proof of my anger and growing despair embedded in my palms.

"Um... yes. I mean, no it's not taken. You can sit down. If you want to I mean." My voice quivered, making it even more obvious that I had been about to cry. Nevertheless, Tessa sat down. Her usual dress had been replaced by high waisted black trousers that accentuated her waist and a rainbow coloured shirt but she was still wearing her leather jacket, which must have been a committed choice since the weather didn't really lend itself for thin jackets like hers. She was still smiling, two adorable dimples showing and her dark brown eyes were sparkling in a way eyes only do when someone's smile is one hundred percent genuine. In short, she was beautiful.