If anyone were to be my age at that time, preaching, pep talks and campaigns seemed to be what school was about. Some damned days were devoted to middle aged shrinks, who thought bullying and drinking was a psychological problem - then they haven't really met us.
Ryan gave a short but throathy laugh, pointing at the vandalised poster. Charlie laughed too throwing her can into the bin,
"Who says no to bullying?" She mimicked the poster pointing towards me for an answer,

"Pussys" I joked yelling out loud.

Someone had changed us to pussys and whoever that was had been truthful. If everyone was just as strong, then there would be no bullies. We would all then punch the walls around. I wonder what is so hard about putting on a facade, nobody is really what people call them. It's either they are more or less. People like Charlie, Ryan and I were way more than we were called. We were more than three high school girls who wanted to get high on anything or pickpockets at bus-stops.
And I wanted that to change.

I watched Ryan and Charlie as they continued to mock the other posters. Those two were the reckless girls I had grown severely attached to for years now, we were others leaning shoulders. Like an endless circle - Ryan to me and myself to Charlie and then back again. And we were deemed inseparable despite our differences. Ryan's tall and tan and that which was her trademark were her poisonous green eyes and thick blue hair. Charlie's the opposite with caramel skin and thoroughly black curly hair with brown eyes that were meant to make her look tender - it just doesn't work her personality.

It was Monday. Two weeks already passed meaning yet again we were back to hell and probably everyone was dealing with some sort of crap from home, so the school was loud. If you felt you couldn't change your life whichever way, you find yourself trying to be happy else resulting in talking about shit. As we passed the misfits I wondered what that word really meant, if it was what I thought then we were really the misfits not them.
Whoever prefers to burn their lungs than to cry?

"......You son of a bitch"

The coarse voice filled the hallways causing everyone to run down to where it came from. We all loved fight scenes, maybe that was just it - what we all had in common apart from the bluish grey uniform we were forced to wear. I leaned on Ryan's shoulder and peered through the bodies. One guy was on the floor, bleeding and the other wouldn't stop punching his fists into the other's head. He was crying, bleeding and angry at the same time. The other looked unconscious but he wasn't, he groaned quietly each time he received a blow. We just hyped the brutal scene - it was the least we possibly could.

Soon someone forced themself into the crowd, jostling everyone aside. He pulled the two of them apart and pushed the offender to the grounder. The offender didn't hassle instead he walked away cursing as he passed in between us, I watched as the he pulled his friend of his pool of blood. The crowd started to disperse instead I stood rooted to ground trying to put together what I was starting to realise,
"Devon," it had come out as a thought. His face was covered in blood, sweating profusely as he staggered to hold on to his friend. I just watched as they managed to pick each other up......

"Beth!" Charlie called pulling me by the elbow, "show's over"

As we walked down to class, I continue to look behind us although they weren't there anymore. Whatever, I thought, could have caused someone to beat him to pulp. And he went to my school,
Who knew?
                  

×_×

Charlie slammed her locker shut in frustration before turning away with Ryan.
"Don't be long." Charlie shouted back as they left school.

School had been over thirty minutes before then and I lied about having detention. Well I did, but I wasn't planning on going instead I wanted to visit the nurse's office. Devon was there and I knew because I checked. I pushed the translucent door open into the makeshift hospital. One of nurse's was at the table - sleeping, so I didn't bother. I tiptoed down trying to remember what bed I had seen him on since the hospital was quite habited that day. Everyone watched but ignored me probably because everyone knew what a snob I was.
One of the silly facades I used.

"Psst."
I turned back abruptly to face Devon and he smiled making his busted lip seem to hurt. His wrist was bandaged and he had two thin strips of plasters on his left cheek. I smiled back and removed my backpack before dumping it on the side of the bed. He sat up, groaning until he made a slightly crooked sitting position. I sat besides him.

"Pretty broken, ahhn?" He joked. His voice was way too scratched and tired.

I nodded at him. I was slightly lost in my thought,
Why did I go? -------  I couldn't seem to answer my own question.

"Are you alright" I asked trying to hide whatever emotions I was feeling at that moment.

"Yeah. Maybe." He smiled as he spoke hiding whatever pain he, too, was feeling.

It had been six times we met and I already realized we both hid those things from each other hoping we wouldn't see. But just as I saw his pain, he saw my emotions - my eerie emotion.

"Were you in the crowd?" he asked probably short of words.

I nodded. He looked different from the guy I met on that cloudy night. The Derek I had been  meeting at night was always smoking, high and confident but there he was on the hospital bed, injured and unsure in ways I couldn't possibly understand.

"Hey, you! School was over like an hour ago"

I sighed and picked up my bag before rolling my eyes at the nurse, "forty five minutes." I corrected pointing at the clock.
Devon grinned.

"Wouldn't you kiss your boyfriend goodbye." A skinny looking boy that attended my literature class mocked sitting up on his bed. The others laughed including Devon while the nurse and I gave them a nasty look - and they shut up but not Devon.

I wanted to whisper bye but I didn't and I don't still realise why - and he watched me till I left, unspoken words screaming from his eyes.

Turns out, just like in all the shitty teen fictions, there's more to every single person than we think.

I love you to another galaxy and back - for reading. ...
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And btw, I don't mind critics NOT hate speeches.