Theatre Kids

Chapter One

The soft sound of my foot tapping filled the nearly empty bus. I'd woken up late, again, and after being pushed around by my father for doing so, I was even later than I previously was. I'd missed my bus. Again.

So now I was sitting here, on the ripped and stained seat of some local bus, tapping my foot to no particular tune, alone. Again. I looked out the window, at the cars shooting by in a blur, the trees flying out of my view.

The loud screech of the doors sliding open reached my ear, and I stood, making my way down the narrow isle. There were scratches all over the floor, gum turned black stuck to it too. I pulled my jacket tighter around my body, not particularly in the mood for frostbite this morning.

I gave a small nod to the balding driver on my way out and walked towards the entrance to Hell itself. What doom would I meet today, I wondered? Would it be a shove against lockers, a black eye, or even a head in the toilet...? The possibilities were endless.

I shouldered one of the double doors open, and was met with a sight I was secretly hoping not to encounter this early in the morning.

"Oh, look who decided to finally show up!" His voice echoed down the empty hall, making him even more intimidating than I already thought he was. Even when he was sitting down, back against the wall that split the hallway in two. One leg was pulled up in an arch, and his arms rested on his knee. "It's little Frankie Iery!"

My fist clenched. "My last name isn't even that hard to pronounce, and you know it, Taylor." I knew I'd regret saying it, but I was going down anyway, so I might as well go down well.

He moved so quickly that I didn't catch the movement at first, but soon enough I realised that he'd chosen option number one. For now. My back throbbed when it came to contact with the metal of a locker. Taylor looked down at me with the most menacing look, his eyes filled with anger. "You wanna say that again, fucker?"

I gulped. My confidence seemed to have vanished completely. The rest of his friends had appeared now, the three of them standing in a line behind him. It looked like a scene from a cliché teen movie. They were all so much taller than me. I really longed to be painting sets right now...

"Yeah, didn't fucking think so." Taylor pushed me harder into the locker, an arm across my chest. "You should be honoured that we were bothered enough to skip class just for you!"

"Then maybe you should stop bothering." It was just a mumble, but Taylor obviously heard it, because I ended up being grabbed by the shoulders and pulled away from the locker, only to be kicked down to the hard floor. My cheek would surely have a nasty bruise now.

I made the bad decision of turning around to face them. I got a foot to my ribs, another to my left shoulder, causing me to wince and pull my legs up in a lame attempt to help myself out. I probably looked like a little kid, curled up in a ball to hide from the monsters under the bed.

"You need to learn not to talk back, little Frankie!"

I could barely see anything anymore; Taylor's friends were crowding my view, standing above me, but I did know that a punch to the mouth was gifted to me at some point. I felt a thin trickle of blood spill down my face.

Maybe one day they should just kill me. They seemed pretty keen on beating me up whenever they got the damn chance anyway, so why not just finish the job for good? Maybe one day they would. I probably wouldn't care. And no one else would care if I suddenly disappeared and never came back, either.

Taylor said something that I couldn't make out, but it was followed by a laugh and probably consisted of my nickname. They must have decided I'd had enough bruises today, as they were finally walking away, down the hall. Just leaving me lying on the cold, hard floor of the school. Alone.