"To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves."

-Federico García Lorca.

At school, I walked the halls with a cluster of sweaty hormonal boys crowding my shoulder space. Every day at the same time, 10 of the other boys on WestFurr's basketball team congregate outside my 3rd-period class. For some unexplained, undecided reason, they find it necessary to travel in crowds to the cafeteria. I'm pretty sure the uncool thing would be to ask "why?" So I don't. I just smile and accept the loud howling that is supposed to be a greeting.

"Jay!" Noel grabbed my shoulders with his hands, shaking me roughly.

"Listen, it's the beginning of senior year. I wanna party."

"Party hard." Ryan interrupted, making sure I knew the importance of just how bad Noel wants to party.

"Yes. Party hard. So, I come to you, my friend."

I nod to let then know I'm listening. Somehow, a basketball has been shoved into my hands because I'm now absentmindedly playing with it. I'm also giving warm smiles to the small girls who are standing against their lockers, waving merely. I know this attention might seem great, but there are about a hundred things running ransom in my head right now and I can't seem to cling onto one.

Don't trip.

Smile.

Not too hard.

Don't drop the ball.

Make eye contact.

Bro, Noel is talking.

Right, shit. Party.

I don't wanna party.

No, that's Ryan.

No, Noel again.

Smile.

Teacher is looking, don't bounce the ball.

Bounce the ball.

No, stop.

Don't.

You almost tripped.

No, I didn't.

Noel is still talking.

Smile.

Athena is waving, wave back.

Waved.

Did it look awkward?

Who cares?

You care.

True.

Play with the ball.

No, teacher.

Shit, forgot.

I for sure forgot my Adderall this morning.

"So how does that sound?"

I finally snap back. I wasn't really listening. Just nodding. We're in the cafeteria now, so I'm not looking to talk, just eat. So I do the stupid thing, agree enthusiastically.

"Yeah, sounds amazing." I shove the ball into Ryan's hands and he's smiling big.

"Awesome. Noel's house, this Saturday. We'll talk more about the party before then. This is gonna be huge!"

Great.

I spend the rest of my lunch and my classes thinking about what I had just agreed to. If there's anything I hate more than sports and birthdays, its party's. It's just the whole social thing. You're expecting to love the shitty atmosphere that makes you feel as if you've got three turtleneck sweaters on that are all three sizes too small. Everyone reeks of alcohol and dopamine, while tomorrow they'll reek of alcohol and regret. The music is always shit, but everyone is jumping, dancing, and grinding. People feel like because you're in the vicinity, they're allowed to touch you. And overall, I really dislike the people there.

As captain of the football team and basketball team and every other stupid shitty shit team, you're supposed to love people. The ones who cheer you on and root for you. The crowds and the attention, you're supposed to bask in it. But I do not want to bask. I want to lay covered and unexposed. Quietly. Peacefully on my books, on my math homework (I truly love math homework), and on my Janis Joplin music. Yeah, I like Janis Joplin, okay? Kill me. Rappers suck today. I can't understand you and you've drunken enough cough medicine to never have a cold again. Pipe down. Janis is real. She's raw. She's unappreciated by this generation so I shall appreciate her. Not publicly of course. But alone, yes.

To say that I hate people is harsh. And strong. My dad always said, "Hate is a strong word." Which for a while I didn't understand until 11th grade. Noel and I were walking Athena to class. At the time, Athena was his girlfriend. At this time, she is not. Athena had us standing outside her already started class, talking about plans she had after school that Noel didn't take much interest in but I took even less interest in. Through the window of the classroom door, I saw a girl. She didn't have to look up for me to know who she was. Her hair was black. Pitch black. Like the black feathers on a raven, not the black of charcoal before it burns out. It was a beautiful black. Her nose sloped down to point and I could clearly see every curve on her face. Especially the curves of each lip effortlessly flowing into the other. Phoenix Lynn. She was beautiful. Always has been. Since I first saw her in fifth grade. Every other girl had boring blonde hair that always laid so doll like. Phoenix, she was real. She always has been. She still is. Beautiful and real. I remember watching her while Athena went on and on and when she realized she didn't have my attention, she stopped.

"Oh, I'm sorry. That's, that's boring."

"No, n-"

"Yes. Thank you." Noel interrupted, sighing in relief as if I saved the day.

"No." A looked at him, shaking my head. I seriously don't know how the dude has ever had a girlfriend, and that's coming from me. "I was just looking at-" "Phoenix." Athena smiled, shifting from foot to foot. "Yeah, she's pretty huh? Sweet girl. We eat lunch together. Always have. Since 9th grade." She glanced back at the door, peering through to look at what I wanted to see all for myself. "Too bad she hates you." She clicked her lips against each other, and let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Well, I should be off. Got class. And so do you guys." And with that, she was gone.

Since that say, I realized how strong of a word 'hate' really is. Did she hate me? Why? What did I do? Maybe she just disliked me? Disliking is one thing. Disliking just hurts feelings. But hate? Hate crushes people. Since then, I have always wondered if she still hates me. Or if she ever hated me. I've talked to Andrea about it and she says that I should just ask her. She says that I'm popular enough to not worry about breaking the ice. But Phoenix Lynn has always been just too ... Cool for Jason Bare.