\~Zak~/

I stared down at my packet, thick as a board, asking almost all combinations of the English alphabet could process into questions.

I stared at question 7: Who is your best friend?

My mind drifted at the question, recalling all the people I have described as my friends.

...I wonder if any of my friends from last year are here.

I know my best friend, Vincent, went to a different high school, but I'm not sure about my other friends.

He really did get me. He wasn't like the others, who simply tolerated my existence. He listened, something I've never had anyone else do for me.
Even when the incident-

My mind flashed past me, all the old memories, the overwhelming smell of iron, the yelling, the crying, the blood painting my hands.

I never really talked about it with them, my other friends.

I mean honestly, they never really acknowledged my existence in general.

I was kinda just.... there.

"Everyone!"

I almost jump at the teacher's sudden words.
" If you didn't finish the 6 page-long- get-to-know-you- packet, finish it tonight and turn it in by tomorrow."

I groaned, shoving the packet into my bag and swinging it over my shoulder right before the off-pitch note rung throughout the school.

--

I walked through the tight spaces between tables in my fourth period, people on every side, before stumbling over to my desk, bumping into another student.

"Watch yourself, dipshit." The kid scoffed, glaring slyly.

"Shit, sorry." I mumbled, trying to move past him to sit.

I felt my hand instinctively ball into a fist, my nails digging far enough into my skin to draw blood.

Asshole.

I walked around, plopping at my seat, before sitting in my chair.

Iwatchedtheslideschangewithablankfaceasmymindwanders.

Imentallynotedthebaitbesidesme, temptingmyangertoreachitsboilingpoint.

HopefullyIlimitmyinteractionswiththeman, asIcannever relivethedaysinwhichIhadlettheangertakecontrol.

The incident.

The three boys.

The dirt field.

Theblooddrenchinghislips, thethickliquidrollingdownhischin.

Thememoryleavesmehollowanddizzy, asthemoreitresurfaces, themorebrokenimageryunlocksfromthebackofmymind.

Icontinuetowatchtheteacherrambleinwhatseemstobeinaforeign, muffledlanguageIcan'tunderstand. Ianalyzehisreceivinghairline, hiscurlyhair, hislonggrayrobe. Helookslikehejustwoke upfromanap.

Hesometimespointstoblurred, incomprehensiblewordsontheboard.
Hehasafewpictures, butIcan'tmakeoutwhatanyofthemaresupposedtobe. Idon'teventry.
HowcouldIfigureoutthepicturewhenIcouldn'tevencomprehendwhathewassaying?

Soonthebellrang, andIwatchedeveryoneheadtothedoors.

I guess it's time for lunch.

Istrideoutwiththem, andthistimethehallisn'tacrowdedasbefore.
If anything, they were practically empty.

Itliftedaweightoffmyback, knowingmyragecouldbeheldoffbythistimeofday.

Ienterthecafeteriaandlookaroundforagoodtabletostaysecludedfromeveryone.

The less social interactions, the better.

Ifindatablethatdoesn'tlooktoobad. Sure, there'sagirlsittingontheoppositesideonthetableafewfeetaway, butit'snotlikeI'llbeinterruptinganyoneoverherebysittingdown.

Isitdownandpullmyphonefrommypocket. Ientermypassword, 1414, andopenupamobilegameIendedupdownloadingfromanadearliertoday.

Asmyhandstracedalongthegame'sbuttons, Ihadseeninmyforesightsomeonewalktothesideofthetablefacingme.

I look up.
It's him.

The boy I had make brief eye contact with, the one I had foolishly thought for a second I could befriend.

He smiles at me gently, a tray in his hands.

"Is okay if I sit here?"

He looks at me considerately, looking as if I say it wasn't, he would in fact move for me.

For a second, I even consider the fact he may not be talking to me. For all I know, he could be talking to the girl on the other side of the table while making prolonged eye contact with me.

How could someone...care?

"Yeah."

I almost forget the game still playing in my hands.
The enemies are wrecking my base, and I'm almost finished.
I immediately press pause and turn off my phone, knowing that even if I tried my best, there's no way I'm coming back from that.

"Sooo..." He tries to break the awkward silence. He takes a small deep breath, and I know he's trying to gain confidence to say whatever he's gonna say next. He releases his breath, and looks at me in the eyes with a small smile.
"Hi, I'm Darryl, What's your name?"

I look at his soft smile, feeling the warmth emitting from him.

"I'm Zak." I say.

"Nice to meet you Zak!" He chirped.

He smiled, bringing one to my face.

What's going on?

"...This Is kinda gonna sound weird but..."

He gives a small awkward laugh and looks down at the table then back to me.

"The reason I sat over here is because I saw you in advisory and thought you looked nice."

I feel my face heat up.
Like as in he thinks I'm cute?

He sees my face and immediately realizes what he said.

" I-I mean you looked like you'd be nice- like to be friends with you like it'd like-"
He reaches under his glasses and rubs his face in embarrassment.

"Oh my goodness..." He mumbles.
He removes his hands and squeezes his eyes tight.

" I thought it'd be nice to get and know you! There I said it!" He forces out.

He glances back up to me, looking for my reaction.

I smile, a light chuckle escaping my throat, an unfamiliar warmth filling my stomach.

"I get it, you're good."

He let out a sigh of relief, then a small chuckle.

" Sorry, that sounded a bit weird."
He rubs the back of his neck as I watched the light dust of pink slowly fade away.

I simply chuckled.

"So, uh..." His voice trails off as he glances around the cafeteria.
"How is your day so far?"

I have to think for a moment. I have to remember how to answer such a question, as one like that hasn't been asked of me in literal years.

"Well...It's been ok." I look up to make sure I have the ok to keep talking.
He nods a go ahead.
" I woke up late, then got pushed around a bunch in the hallways."

"Ah yeah, happens to me a lot." He says, smiling.
"Is that it?" asks, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. It reminded me of a puppy.

I found it cute.

Cute? Zak, really??

"Yeah mostly..." I pause, then realize how boring that probably sounded.
"B-but the days only like halfway over so-" I add quickly.
"Uh- What about you?"

"Honestly it's kinda been the same.
I didn't really wake up late or anything, but today has been pretty average. I mean, I saw some people I knew... But other than that-"

He gave a soft shrug, then seemed to start zoning out, his lips starting to pull down into a more neutral look.

I stayed quiet, finding myself alternating between watching my hands and his face.

The warm, soft glow from the September sun shining through the window and making him look... perfect.
The color its self-made the whole moment feels nostalgic, even though it was happening right now.
His soft brown hair looked almost gold in the light, and his dark clothes looked softer and gentler. His square glasses shined in the warmth, the shine obscuring his eyes from my vision.

The image made my stomach stir with warmth; a feeling almost forgotten to me.

"Zak?"
I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the now familiar voice.

"Hmm?"

"This is going to sound a bit creepy," He starts, adverting my gaze, "But I remember you saying you had room 314 later. I have that class later too, and I was kind a wondering what period you had..." He rubs the back of his neck, then continues to look everywhere but my eyes.

I smile.
"I have that room for 6th period."

His eyes finally meet mine, and they're full of joy.

"Same! I'm so glad I'll at least know one person in that class." I smile along with him, enjoying the moment.
I'm glad to have met him.

The bell sounds off, and we get up from the table.

Darryl throws away the rest of his food, which, now that I think about it, never recall seeing him taking a bite.

We talk as we walk down the halls, and he has to go down the next one coming up.

" Well I'll see you in science, Zak!"
He smiles.
"See ya!" I wave to him as he walks down the hallway to the right.

I then hear a voice right by my ear, walking by.
"Who's he? Your little boyfriend?"
I whip around and watch the boy from 4th period snicker down the hallway, headed back to our classroom.
"Fucking fag." His voice echos through the hallway.

My hand balls once again, shaking with anger.

That fucking bitch.

Haha hi yeah tell me in the comments right now how amazing and cool this story is and maybe I'll spare your life 🔫

So much content was taken out from the original writing, the word count was practically cut in half, originally being 3300.

Words:1708

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