Outcasts (Connor Murphy X Reader)

Chapter 1

A/N: I'm sorry if I make any mistakes in this. I am Australian and this book is based in America so if I get anything wrong please tell me and I will correct it.

~~~

Dear diary,

Today was the first day of my last year in high school...

I sigh as I walk through the gates of hell, or better known as school. I shuffle along until I find an empty bench to sit on until my first class. I pull out a book and silently read, ignoring all of the chattering around me. As I read I notice my hoodie sleeve begin to rise up. I frown as I push to irritating piece of cloth back down.
I pause when I smell something weird. I look up to see a tall, lanky figure walk past me, hunched over with their hands shoved into their hoodie pockets.

"Druggie."

"Freak."

I hear people around me mutter to both themselves and their friends. I frown at the names, but put my head back down and continue to read. I feel someone sit beside me, and when I say beside me, I mean practically on top of me. I look up over at the person who attempted to sit down, only to end up on me. They had jumped up and were looking at me, a bewildered look on their face. I assume they didn't see me, but I sigh.

"I'm sorry." I apologise and stand up, shoving my book into my bag.

The person sneers at me as I walk away. I really don't feel like dealing with their shit and just walk off.
As I walk around, looking for a new place to wait for a new place to wait for the bell, I slip one of my headphones in and blast some music to distract me and pass the time. I glance around at the groups of people until I find a bench where only one person sat.

'I guess it's better than nothing'

I walk over quietly and sit down, pulling my book out once again. It takes a minute before I look up to see then boy I had sat next to staring at me.

"Can I help you?" I ask, my voice monotone and bored sounding.

"Oh, um, I." the boy stutters, trying to make a coherent sentence.

"Sorry if I startled you," I start the same sentence I use every time I spook someone, "it was not my intention."

And as soon as I finish my sentence I look back down at my book. I assume the boy was still trying to talk as I could hear him let out a few unintelligible words and sounds. As I finish the next chapter of my book the bell rings loudly. I open up my bag and slip my book in. I stand up and walk off, but not without a glance at the awkward teen, who was walking off, his head down.

I frown slightly before my face goes back to my usual neutral façade. I squeeze my way through the hoard of irritatingly loud teenagers who had begun congesting the hallways. I finally manage to step into my much less crowded Literary Studies classroom.
I walk down the aisle of desks until I reach the back of the class and sit down at a desk by myself. I pull out my notepad and pen and begin to jot down ideas for any upcoming stories, universe or characters that I could use later on.

The teacher eventually walks in and the class begins. I look up as the teacher talks about the curriculum for the year. I don't really pay attention after he begins to rant about his class rules and just return to my notepad.
Just as the teacher was about to stop talking about class rules the door slams open rather obnoxiously. The lanky guy with scraggly hair from this morning walk in, his hands still shoved in his hoodie pockets and hunched over, scowl clearly shown on his face.

"Ah, Mr. Murphy," the teacher says, obviously not happy, "glad to see you finally arrived."

The boy grumbles in reply.

"Just go sit in the back corner by yourself," the teacher states, pointing at the table I was currently sitting at, "at least you won't disturb anyone else."

The boy doesn't reply as he walks over to the desk I was at and sits next to me. I sigh through my nose and roll my eyes.

"Of course he can't see me'

I smell the same smell from earlier, confirming that it was him that smelt weird. I assume from the names he was called that the smell was in fact weed. I notice the boy, Murphy, glance at me lazily before looking forward again.
My eyes widen slightly, but I just shake it off and look back down at my book again.

"Alright," the teacher begins, "let's continue."

~~~

After an agonising day of school I finally get to go home. I stand up from my desk and walk out of the classroom, which was already empty. The hallway was packed with kids trying to escape this hellhole as quickly as possible. I stumble through the crown until I reach my locker. As quickly as I could I grab my stuff and shut it.

It felt like forever before I exit the school gates. Just as I was about to turn to go down the street someone bumps into me. I accidentally catch her eye and she glares at me. I flinch slightly at the harsh, and uncalled for glare. I turn back around and walk a bit faster. I shove my headphones in and put the music up loud enough to block out any interference.

I couldn't hear anything around me because of my music, but I looked around at the streets that I had seen too many times before. Each twist and turn I took felt almost natural. And it isn't long until I reach my house. As soon as I step into the house I head straight for my only safe place, my room. As I walk past the kitchen I see my parents arguing with my older brother, Andrew, who was 27 and still living at home. My parents had angry expressions on their faces. But since my headphones were in I couldn't hear them due to the music. I continue walking, still heading towards my room. That is until I come across my brother's room. I stop and open the door, peering in to see my baby brother, Matt, standing at the bars to the crib. As soon as I see his red face with tears streaming down his cheeks I pull out my headphones, only to be hit with a bunch of sounds hitting me at once. My parents and my brother fighting and Matt's loud, high pitching crying.

I rush up to my brother and pick him up out of the crib. I sit him on my hip and begin to soothe him. His crying slowly begins to get quieter. I walk out of his room and dawdle into mine, which was just after his. I lay him on my bed gently and go back out towards the kitchen.
As I ignore the yelling of the others I quickly make Matt a bottle of milk. I sigh in slight relief when my brother storms out of the house. My parents don't say anything, but I could tell if I made too much sound they'd probably hear me and use me as stress relief. So as soon as the milk is done I walk back out of the kitchen and back into my room.

"Alright, bub," I mutter as I pick my brother up, "let's get you fed."

~~~

After a long time of feeding my brother and bathing him and feeding him again and finally putting him to sleep, my parents had both already ate dinner and left for work. And Andrew hadn't returned yet, so I guess he's out drinking.
I walk into the kitchen, tired after looking after Matt. I look down at the table to see a note.

Hey hon,
Can you please clean the kitchen up before you go to bed.
Thanks, mum.

I sigh before I get to work cleaning. I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight.

...and it sucked.