There's this gay kid in my class. I think he likes me. He think he's subtle but I know he's been shooting staring glares at me all day. Maybe he's grateful I saved his ass this morning.
I sighed. Why did I did it? I was planning on staying discreet here. I was tired of moving around every few months or so... Such a hassle.
In the background the professor drones on about history lessons. I knew it already so I just raised the volume of my headphones until his voice was drowned out by heavy metal. With the boy not looking at me now, so I eyed him up this time.
He looked average. Medium brown hairs, blue-green eyes. I'm surprised people can call him out of a crowd. His clothes didn't help. He was wearing an ugly old hoodie and his hair formed a tangled mess of wavy light brown knots.
I could tell he wasn't feeling well. But he didn't want help. He's fine he said. The teacher calls me out, surely because I'm not listening. I answered his question without looking at him. Next to me, a girl babbles incessantly about nothing.
I'd shut her up, but I know she's not really there. There’s no one sitting there at the moment. That girl, she's just a memory imprinted on the room, probably from the previous classes. I raise the volume again, to the point it makes my head hurt and throbs. But it's still better than listening to the ghosts chatters.
Music is one of the few thing that let me shut them off and I can’t just light up at school.
Doctor and psychiatrist said I'm having delusions. That I'm suffering from a minor case of schizophrenia. Personally, I think they're the one who are insane and deluded. How can they not see all this stuff?
Absently, as I gazed out the window, I turned the page of the history book, remembering the thoughts of those who had previously read it.
If I'm nuts, how can I do that and actually know the correct answers? Whatever. It wasn't like I ever accepted to take the drugs. My head's fine, it's theirs that need recalibration.
Outside, I see the gay guy's angst, a ghost of the memories of this morning. He stands motionless in phantomatic rain, the sky had cleared early in the afternoon, he was trying to gather the strength to come in... I gazed back to the class.
One of the jocks was throwing paper ball at him. Immature idiot. The kid who's name I didn't know doesn't react to the volley of projectiles, he just keeps on listening to the professor.
I sigh again deeply. Should I help him?
It's twenty to four. Twenty minutes left until the day is over and I can do what I want to. "I shouldn't get into trouble. That kid need to learn to defend himself." I try to justify myself.
"But who'll show him how?" my conscience asks.
"Fine..." I mutters to myself.
Discreetly, I grab and toss my erased at the jock's temple. His head twitch with the impact and I give him a snarky smile as he stares at me, anger in his eyes and thick skull. I know he'll come back at me for it. I'll be looking forward to it, I’ve been wanting an outlet to let frustration out.
Finally, the bell rings and the student begins leaving. With me first, despite the fact I sat in the back of the class. I have work to do now.