All The World May Be a Stage, But We Can't All Be the Best of Actors

James and I were eating pizza in my bedroom when I dared ask him about going to his house again. He was devouring the pizza in his usual manner, but when I asked this, he froze in place. I saw his eyes cloud over in shame and anger as he looked up at me. He set the pizza back on the styrofoam plate and glared with his piercing eyes. I looked down immediately and slowly continued eating my pizza, hoping he would forget that I had asked.

To my surprise he answered, "Tomorrow."

I furrowed my brow and looked up at him, "Really?"

He nodded and slowly said, "Somebody should know."

I cocked my head to the side, but knew he might get angry again if I asked questions. He began masticating his pizza again, as though nothing happened. I finished my third piece, my stomach at its fullest. I watched him eat what must have been at least his fifth piece. He finished it quickly and moved on to at least his sixth. I knew there was something wrong but I was unsure what it was.

I smiled and pulled out my script from my bag, going over lines silently as I waited for him to finish his pizza, every once in awhile looking down at the script to assure I had memorized the line correctly. I caught him looking at me once or twice and felt my cheeks get hot. It was not long after the second time I blushed that he had finished his pizza.

"We already know these," he stated.

"You memorized all yours?" I asked in disbelief. I knew he had been trying but I did not think he actually finished memorizing all of them.

He nodded, slowly. I smiled and requested we ran through the scene without our scripts. He accepted the request, and I was pleased to see that memorized the lines word for word without any error. However, I was a little worried that this would cause our friendship to deteriorate and the regular visits would not be so regular anymore.

I faked a smile, but he saw through it. I was a little taken aback when he wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder and asked, "What's wrong?"

I bit my lip and forced a lie, "Oh, nothing. Just thinking." He nodded and removed his arm, a new coldness enveloping me. I felt like crying, but I could not. He kept looking at me, but I looked away, uncomfortable with his stare. I could feel his eyes still on me, so I began making my way towards the computer, hoping a change of subject would get his mind off of what was going on with my thoughts.

I was thankful when I turned the speakers on, that he closed his eyes and lay down on my bed, letting the music take over his thoughts.

His eyes averted to my alarm clock and he got to his feet. I didn't need to look up. I knew it was 5:55.

A wave of sadness rushed over me as he closed my bedroom door behind him without a proper goodbye. I stood up and opened it a crack, watching the back of his black and blond head of hair.

I sighed and walked back to my bed, lying on it and staring at the ceiling, enveloping myself in the warmth that he left from lying there only moments before. My bed smelled of smoke and cologne, usually a scent that would make me cringe, but it was his scent. I inhaled and smiled to myself. Everything seemed like a dream. I would have never expected such a mysterious and almost crude boy to turn out being so perfect.

I felt an epiphany coming. I was beginning to like James a lot--perhaps so much I was falling for him. It simply was not right. We did not fit. He flunked all his classes without a care, I passed all my classes with pride. He smoked nonstop, I was an asthmatic. He wore a constant frown, I wore a constant smirk. We just did not fit.

Still I found myself watching out my window as he walked down the snowy street to work. Still I found myself cuddling close to my pillow that smelled of his luscious scent. Still I found myself excited to go to home with him.

I tried to quit thinking and delving into deeper confusion, but I could not. I wanted to figure my emotions out. I did not like having thoughts I did not fully understand.

Damn you, James Borden.

Drama class seemed to go by quickly. Mrs. Hoffman let those who were ready to perform do so early for extra credit. I had really wanted to go, but James seemed indifferent, though he said we could. I told him we'd wait until next class, since the extra credit would still be available. He agreed and we sat next to each other in silence, watching as Jenna and Todd made their way onto the stage.

"Jenna, I want you to perform last," Mrs. Hoffman said, "but you will still recieve the extra credit--don't worry."

Jenna sulked, following Todd offstage. The next scene for extra credit was the trio. I felt myself ignoring their poor performance and looking at James. He looked at me and then we both looked away quickly.

It was like that the rest of the hour, and it seemed to pass the time. I tried to hide my blushing face as the bell rang and I had to tear my eyes away from him as he "watched" the performance, yet still looked at me from the corner of his eye.

I stood and fumbled with my things, trying not to look at him. I did not want him to know he had the power to make my face flush.

"Are you sure you still want to come over tonight?" he said, unsure.

I jumped a little, startled that he was talking when people were around.

"Of course," I said, turning around, since I had stopped blushing. He looked uncomfortable and I cocked my head to the side, wondering what I had done wrong.

He turned and walked away. I sighed and began walking out of the auditorium and towards my locker. Jenna was already at her locker, forcing her oversized backpack into the cramped space. She made a quick jab with her foot and grabbed her Chemistry book from the top shelf before slamming the door and locking it.

I smiled at her with my fake smile and she smiled at me with her own. Todd was approaching us and I assumed he was going to talk to Jenna, but instead, he grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. I furrowed my brow and he looked at me with disdain. I smirked at him as he said, "Don't you dare fuck this up for me and Jenna."

I rolled my eyes, "Shut the hell up. I'll do whatever I Goddamn well please."

He glared and turned on his heel, racing towards Jenna, probably to inform her how rude I am.

In Chemistry class, Anna Horble, the girl that usually sits next to me, was absent. I kept looking back at James, trying to hint with my eyes for him to sit next to me. He did not really seem to get my hints. I sighed and whispered, "Sit next to me."

He raised an eyebrow and continued listening to his music. I reached back when I was sure Mr. Dill was not looking, and pulled an earbud out of his right ear.

"Sit next to me!" I hissed.

He shrugged and put the earbud back in his ear. I sighed and stared at the paper on my desk. I raised an eyebrow as I tried to read Mr. Dill's poor handwriting. It was not too poor of a grade, but I had certainly hoped for better. I glared at the giant, red eighty-four percent at the top. I could not help but look back in curiosity. A giant, red forty-one was written on James's paper.

He looked at the paper and sighed, flipping it over before glaring at the board. I wondered why he did not care about school. I wondered how he did not care about school. I doubted he had a good job and he could not buy cigarettes on minimum wage forever.

"What'd you get?" Jenna asked, turning around to glare at me.

"Eighty-four," I answered as I looked at her paper, reading her score and knowing she scored lower.

She looked angry but gained composure quickly, "Oh, me too."

I rolled my eyes as she turned around, since I knew she really had gotten a seventy-six percent.

The bell rang and I sighed, collecting my things, ready to go to my next hour. Someone touched my shoulder. I swung around quickly and blushed, since I had to look upward to see his face. His blue eyes looked concerned, but the fog of worry disappeared and he smiled.

"Are you still coming tonight?"

I nodded and said, "Can I drive over there because I really don't like walking. Or do you have a car?"

He shook his head, "I don't have a car. And yeah you can drive...you'll just have to park in the garage."

I furrowed my brow and he looked sad for a moment.

"I'm only doing this because I trust you," he said in a small voice and brushed past me, walking towards his next class.

I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before going towards my own class.

I waited for James outside of his teacher's classroom. He came out, and looked almost upset when he saw my face. This darkened my mood a bit, but I tried to hide it and I began to trek through the crowded hallway. I walked out the double doors and turned to look for James but he was nowhere in sight. I looked around and saw him next to my car. Rolling my eyes, I realized I should have been used to this by now. His speed was fascinating.

I smiled at him and got into the drivers' seat as he walked around the car and got into the passengers' seat. I started the engine and buckled my seatbelt, groaning a little, irked that the heater was blowing cold air.

"Where to?" I asked him.

He bit his lip, contemplating. He did not speak.

I waited a moment before repeating the question.

He mumbled something I could not make out. I furrowed my brow, getting a little frustrated.

"Where?" I asked.

"Gables Street."

I thought for a moment, trying to figure out if I knew where he was talking about. I did not recollect ever going to a Gables Street, and I had been virtually everywhere in our town.

"Where is that?" I asked as I pulled up to the service drive.

He bit his lip and said, "Take a right."

I nodded and turned right after a red car in front of me turned left. I started going straight.

"Where to, now?" I asked.

"Keep going straight," he said.

I did as I was told, and drove in silence. James did not say a word, nor did I.

It had seemed like a very long time since I had turned right at the service drive. We had already went through the downtown area and it was starting to turn into the city next to ours. Our pretty town was merging into a dilapidated slum that seemed to go on for miles. I bit my lip and turned to James, feeling a little uncomfortable for the area.

I spoke up, "Did we pass it?"

He pursed his lips and shook his head. I wondered if he was even in our school district, or perhaps he was resisting taking me to his home. Perhaps he would have me drive for miles until I finally realized there was no possible way he lived so far from the school.

"Turn left," he said in a small voice.

I looked to my left and almost gasped, but quickly repressed it. I was turning onto Gables Street, which was by far the worst area I had seen yet.

I turned and started going down the road, my eyes darting left and right. Groups of young men in baggy clothes were walking on both sides of the street, not even trying to be inconspicuous. I looked around in worry. Small houses, trailers, and large apartment buildings all had broken and boarded windows, many with obvious bullet holes.

I saw a big patch of red in the snow of a trailer's front yard and I held back a noise that wanted to force its way from the back of my throat. The patch of red was blood.

"Start slowing down. It's that building there."

I could not hold back this time. I gasped as I pressed my foot against the brake pedal. The building was large and ominous. Almost every window was broken or boarded up, and there were mosses of every breed growing on the side of the building. Whoever was supposed to be snow-plowing the parking lot was doing a very poor job.

"The parking structure is right there," James said.

I saw the ramp that went underground, and approached it carefully, in case of black ice. I tapped my brake a little and slowly went downward. A security guard stopped me and placed a tag on my windshield before letting me pass through. I parked and followed James towards the stairs, since there was a sign on the elevator saying it was out of order.

We walked through a lobby with an old woman with rotting teeth. She did not look twice at us as we took the second set of stairs up to James's apartment.

It took several stops for me to make it up the stairs. I had to use my inhaler on four occasions just to get to his apartment. I realized this was probably why James was so fast. He was in great shape due to all these steps.

We finally reached his apartment and I walked in after him. The room was yellow due to cigarette smoke. There was a kitchenette with a miniature refrigerator and a sink which seemed to just merge into the living room, which was hardly a living room at all. There was a single sofa that looked like it was from the 1970s with an end table next to it. On the end table was a plastic ashtry and several books. A small, old radio was set atop of the books, with aluminum foil inches thick on the antenna.

I saw two doors and assumed one was the bathroom and the other his bedroom. I bit my lip, trying not to say something rude like an apology.

"Home, sweet home," he said, sourly. I felt a tear fall from my eye as I looked up at the ashamed expression his face.

"You deserve so much more," I whispered.