Not So Different

Ch. 09

Chapter 9: breaking down

I was much better today, way better than my mood yesterday. Considering.

I woke up bright and early, before the birds started chirping because I couldn't sleep at all. I got out of bed before the sun came up, to go out for a walk in the morning breeze, because I wanted to clear my head. And after that, I took a long scalding bath, because I wanted to burned away all the memories of him.

Instead of my usual colour combination dressing style, today I decided on an all black look of my hoodie and black jeans. I put the hood up before I left the house, and leaving it on even when I reached school.

People glanced but nothing more. I shoved my hands into the pockets and went to class. There wasn't anything I needed from my locker anyway, it wasn't like I was going to pay attention today.

I went to class and sat at my place, pulled the hood higher up my head and landed my head on the table with my hands as support. This way, no one could see my face. I was wallowing in my own self-pity in what I know best; keeping it to myself and overthinking.

In my own bubble, I was perfectly fine and dandy. I was dead to the world and the world was dead to me; just the way I wanted it to be on this perfectly typical morning. But then an abomination poked at my arm.

"Psst, Clumsy is this you?" the ever annoying voice of Ray Sterling came, and honest to God I never wanted to break someone's fingers so badly. I swear if he didn't cease poking me I would really do it.

To my satisfaction, he did. But just when I thought he had given up and was going to leave me alone like how I wanted to be left, he had the audacity to lift up a corner of my hood. I knew because suddenly, I was blinded by a white light, and I hate it.

I grabbed his finger and twists. "Arghh!" his face contorted into pain, using his other hand to grab it and stop me from turning it even more, "what is wrong with you, woman."

"What part of hood up ignoring you doesn't look like 'leave me the fuck alone I don't want to talk to you'," I growled and bared my teeth, my eyes narrowing into slits as I glared at him.

He had the decency to smile, even in his current situation. "Someone's got your panties in a twist," he rolled his eyes. "Boy trouble?"

Of course he would know. I didn't tell him but somehow he always managed to know things about me. It was almost like I was front page news in his very own issue of newspaper and I didn't like it. I didn't know anything about him but he seemed to know all about me, except my name.

Which I was fine with if I wanted him to stop bugging me.

I glared daggers at him. "What's it to you."

"Nothing, Clumsy," he answered defensively, "I just want you to know that you can talk to me. From what I've been told, I'm a very good listener."

Wasn't that what I wanted? For someone to listen to me? Listen to all my pent up anger and frustration? Listen to my inner feelings that I hide to myself. Hadn't I wanted someone to care enough to ask?

His expression was sincere as he stared up at me, showing that he would indeed to as he said. He was rigid in anticipation for my reaction, though the twitch in his hands told me that he was not handling the pain very well.

"Okay," I finally said, dejected and released his finger. His heaved a relieved breath and clutched his finger, taking his seat behind me. I turned to him.

Ray stapled his fingers together and rested his chin on it, "now, tell Doctor Ray the problem," he said in a professional voice, "he'll help you. We can solve the issue together."