Deal

Chapter Two - School

Jake's POV -

At this point, I could care less about school. The only reason I go is that I have to keep my grades up so that I can stay on the football team. It's stupid though, really. Wanting to keep on doing something you don't care about. I don't do it because my parents want me to, they can't... they're dead. I do it because it gives me something to do to distract me from all of my issues.

I sighed and slowly walked out of my apartment, dreading the day that way before me.

As I wandered on the ten minute walk to school, my mind drifted back to last night.

That girl, Lyla, I... saved her... but in a way, she saved me too. She had a point. If she hadn't been there and had decided to jump the next night... we would both be dead. Maybe that was what I wanted. Although, now... I just wanted to see if Lyla could make all of my pain go away. And in a perfect world, I could help her too. But this isn't a perfect world.

Before long, I was at school. I walked through the front doors and was immediately joined by the rest of the football team.

I wasn't the captain, but I had a chance to be if I kept on working towards it.

The thing that kills me the most is that I could live this life. I knew I had a future in football and I was good enough to get a scholarship. My parents are dead... but honestly, I was never close to them in general. They worked all the time and never cared about me. Yet, I still have so much that a lot of people would kill for. But despite all of that... I still didn't want to live.

Most people think that people that are suicidal have to show it. There have to be signs. Someone had to have known. They have to be a quiet kid. They have to have been through so much. They have to have less than others. People think that if you are popular, you don't know what it's like.

Well, to those people I say: I do. I know what it's like to hate every aspect of yourself. I know what it's like to feel alone. I know what it's like to be tired... not physically, but mentally. I know what it's like to be ready to just give up...

"Jake?"

I looked to my side to see my best friend, Xavier, looking at me.

"Yeah, what?"

"I asked if you were ready for the game tomorrow night."

"Oh, yeah! Are you?"

Xavier laughed before nodding.

He continued to talk about plays that he thought we should do and I gave the occasional nod of agreement, even though I wasn't actually paying attention. I was more focused on the girl from last night, Lyla.

I didn't understand why she would ever want to hurt herself. She was pretty, like really pretty. She had long, light brown hair and green eyes. She seemed shy but she was nice and smart. She-

"Hey, girl," I heard the captain of the football team, Isaac, say, "Move."

I looked up and there she stood. The girl that threw my world upside-down with just one conversation. Lyla.

She looked surprised that Isaac had spoken to her. When her eyes met mine she looked even more surprised.

"Oh, uh... sorry." Her voice shook slightly with each word and she turned to walk away.

She didn't get far before she was stopped by Isaac stopped her. A few other players took this as an invitation to start being jerks to her.

"Who said you could talk to us?"

"Just move, idiot."

"Go away!"

"Oh my god, you're like... really ugly."

The comments kept coming. My 'friends' continued calling her names and just generally being assholes. I never understood this. You are popular and here is someone who you don't even know anything about yet you decide that this, right here, is the person that hurt you to the point that they deserve to be hurt in return.

It only took about a minute until I got fed up. I wish I had been faster. Nobody should have to deal with that.

"Let's just go! There's no point in being rude. She apologized so if we can all move on and get over ourselves, that'd be great. I have a class to get to and so do all of you."

There wasn't a response from anyone except Isaac, "Whatever, let's go boys."

With that the rest of the team followed him and I nodded to Lyla before going with them.

After a few seconds, I felt my phone buzz.
Pulling it out of my pocket, I saw it was Lyla.

Thank you.

Lyla's POV -

Thank you.

Maybe I didn't have to thank him because what he did was something any decent person would do... but nobody had ever stood up for me or tried to help me before.

I was a bit of a cliche. I was the quiet girl who sits in the back of the class. I was the girl that nobody would notice was gone. I was the girl that would have a funeral full of people pretending to know and care about me. I was the girl that no one really knew.

The loud bell interrupted my thoughts and sent me running off towards a class I was, yet again, late for.

Wonderful.

I walked into my English class, almost expecting to be yelled at for being late but, much like every other person in the world, the teacher ignored me.

"Alright class. Today we'll be writing letters to our future selves. These will not be graded, however I expect you all to write something meaningful and something you want your future self to remember. You will have today in class and if you don't finish you will have to do it for homework. If you need paper, it's on my desk."

What's the point in writing a letter to my future self if my future self will never get a chance to even exist.

Despite my thoughts and the nagging reminder that I'd never read this I still started writing a letter... not to my future self... but to my father.

I'm sorry.

I've come to understand that no matter what I say to you or how I say it, you will always hate me.

But, despite this, I'm still human and I couldn't have changed what happened.

Do me a favor and try to remember a time before you began blaming me. I can't even remember that time. I can't remember a time when we got along. Hell, I can't even remember a time when I was happy.

If I'm dead while you're reading this then don't have a funeral. I know that there is barely anyone in this world who would actually care if I died but I'm sure a bunch of people would show up and claim to be friends with me.

Do you know what it's like to fight for your life? To wish you could live normally like all of the people around you but you just can't?

It's like drowning... but everyone around you is breathing fine and they're talking about how amazing it is to be alive right now and you just want to fit in.

And just so you know, when I say I'm tired and you respond with "go take a nap or something"... I feel an even bigger void growing between us because I can't say to you that I'm not physically tired... because you still won't understand.

I'm tired of fighting to live in a world that doesn't want me to live. I'm tired of trying to find someone who understands what I'm going through. I'm tired of drowning. I'm tired of apologizing. I'm tired of existing.

So, I'm sorry... that I'm not perfect... and that I will never be good enough for you.

Just as I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, the bell rang and on went the school day... the world kept going even though my world was falling apart.