A True Friend Stabs You in the Front

The next day, which was a Friday, I was rushing out my school building after the bell finally rang, thankful that I wouldn't have to see it for another two days. I pushed passed some of the groups of students, but they didn't seem to notice me. To some, I was invisible.
And I liked that.
School wasn't much of a problem for me. I didn't belong into any of the cliques; hell, I was my own clique. Some people seemed interested in me, though. Like, for instance, the goths and emos.
They were misunderstood, also. People would just look at them and think cutters. It's ridiculous. So just because you wear black and express your emotions freely, you cut yourself? Psh, judgements.
They talked to me sometimes. I didn't dress like them, but they knew I wasn't like most people at that school. They trusted my character and I was grateful for that.
At least now, I had people to hang out with during lunch. Although, when I used to sit alone, it didn't really bother me. I would mostly read and sometimes draw, just to pass the time away.
Once the public school building was out of view, I slowed my pace on the sidewalk, making the familiar way home. It wasn't far.
I remembered having to practically beg my parents to not pick me up from school, telling them I needed the walk. They surprisingly agreed; no protest included. I guess they finally acknowledged my responsible side. Plus, I was giving them what they wanted: attending more therapy sessions. Ugh.
I gripped on the straps of my backpack as I continued walking at a slow pace, looking down at the ground.
The walks back home were very relaxing in a way. I liked being alone on these walks. It was a time for thinking; a time for myself.
I finally turned the corner of my neighborhood, looking up at the houses as I passed. Some of them looked identical. It was annoying.
Where the hell was the originality in this place?
I kicked a rock that was in my way, as it landed on the street.
While I walked, though, I suddenly heard a faint noise. It was sort of a rustling noise, like something moving in the trees. I stopped in my tracks, spinning around.
There was nothing. I shrugged, turning back around and began walking again.
But then, I heard it again. I frowned, slowing down.
Am I hearing things now? Is someone following me?
The minute the noise stopped, I walked at a much faster speed. But since I was still looking behind me as I walked, I didn't even notice that I was about to walk right into a mailbox.
"Ah!" I shrieked, as my body came in full contact with the mailbox, sending me flying backward on the ground. I landed on my back, which wasn't at all pleasant.
I groaned, feeling the sharp pain. "Damn you, stupid mailbox," I mumbled.
I slowly sat up on the ground, rubbing my back where it hurt.
I then stood up, holding my backpack in my hands, rather than placing it on my back again.
That's when I heard a laugh. It was a low laugh, but easy to distinguish that it belonged to a boy.
My head snapped in the direction of the mystery laugh. I spotted a boy, sitting on the porch steps of his house. He was looking at me and he probably saw my stupid fall too, since it had occured right in front of his house. I then realized the mailbox I walked into was his mailbox.
I felt my face go red with heat. Where's the hole I can crawl into?
"You okay?" The boy then called, cupping his mouth so that his voice came out louder to reach my ears.
My hands twitched, as I composed myself in an awkward manner.
"Um...yeah," I called back; embarrassment clear in my voice.
The kid smirked and stood up from the steps. I watched warily as he began making his way towards me, amusement in his eyes.
He then stopped at a small distance in front of me.
"That was a nasty fall," He commented, biting back a laugh.
My eyebrows knitted together. "Yeah it was."
Did he come all the way here just to make fun of me?
He chuckled and eyed his mailbox, which had a small dent on the side. "You hurt my mailbox," He said plainly.
"It hurt me," I said, a touch of anger in my voice.
He chuckled again. "I know. I saw."
I crossed my arms, frowning at him. "Did it ever occur to you that I might have needed help standing up?"
He shrugged. "It was funny to watch you try. Sorry."
I groaned. "Gee, thanks."
He smiled. "Really, I'm sorry. Next time you run into my mailbox, I'll be sure to help."
I rolled my eyes. "Glad to know."
The boy seemed pretty amused by me. It was irritating. All his smirking reminded me a lot of Frank. The same careless and rebellious attitude.
I stared at the boy for a brief moment, noticing his outfit. He was wearing a black Misfits shirt, ripped jeans, and black sneakers. His hair was light brown, and he wore thin black framed glasses, kinding of giving off a nerdy vibe. He was pale and skinny, sort of gangly looking too. He stood about 4 inches above me.
His clothes reminded me a lot of Frank's, too. I was surprised to see someone who reminded me so much of him. And in my own neighborhood.
"I'm Mikey by the way," The boy said, noticing my blank face, as I was staring off into space.
My eyes darted to his face. "Sam," I said quietly.
He nodded. "I don't think I've ever seen you. You from this neighborhood?" He asked interestingly.
"Yeah. Moved here about a month ago," I answered.
He furrowed his eyes. "A month ago? How come I've never seen you around?"
I shrugged. "I don't go out much."
He smirked. "Anti-social, are we?"
"Guess you could call it that," I replied with a crooked smile. Good word as any.
He returned the crooked smile, stuffing his hands in his jeans. His eyes scanned me for a brief second, finally landing on my backpack.
His crooked smile turned into a full one, and his face brightened.
"You like Smashing Pumpkins?" He asked brightly.
I looked down at my backpack and saw that he had noticed one of the buttons I had put there. My backpack was basically a homage to all my favorite bands. It was filled with band buttons and I had even doodled some of my favorite song lyrics.
"Yeah. They're awesome," I replied with a smile.
He nodded, still contemplating my backpack. "No way! You like Anthrax, too?!" He suddenly squealed, making me jump a little in surprise.
I laughed a little. "Of course. Who doesn't?"
He looked back at me, with a smile. "I don't think I've ever met a girl with the same taste in music. This is definately a first."
I smiled, blushing slightly. "I'm a music junkie."
"Join the club," He replied, grinning.
I laughed.
"You know, me and my friends have a band," He started saying. His eyes were locked on mine; the grin still on his face.
Was he trying to impress me?
"Really?" I asked, seemingly interested. "That's awesome."
He grinned wider. "You should hear us play sometime. I think you'll like it."
I nodded. "Sure thing."
"Mikey! Dude, where the hell are you?" A voice suddenly met our ears. It was coming from inside of Mikey's house. The front door suddenly opened, followed by someone poking their head out.
It was another boy. He opened the door wider, spotting Mikey and I next to the mailbox.
He stepped outside, jumping over the porch steps and making his way towards us.
I couldn't help but stare as he did. He was a pale looking boy. Paler than Mikey. He had black hair, which looked sort of tangled and some of it covered his eyes. He was wearing a black hoodie and black pants, and I could see, as he came closer, that his eyes were green.
I stiffened. He was gorgeous, despite the messy hair.
He sort of resembled a vampire, what with all the pale skin and piercing eyes.
He came to a hault, once he was next to Mikey.
I hadn't realized I was still staring at that gorgeous kid.
"Who's she?" He asked Mikey, glancing at me. He had a smooth expression on his face.
"Sam. She lives in the neighborhood," Mikey answered, with a smile.
The boy's eyebrows furrowed. "Did you just move in?"
I shook my head. "I've been here for a month," I answered casually.
"Oh. I've never seen you," He said, flashing me a smile.
I felt my heart racing inside me.
"She's anti-social," Mikey said amusingly, as he gave me a wink.
"No kidding," The boy said. "So am I."
I smiled. "Glad to know I'm not the only one."
He chuckled, sticking his hand out. "I'm Gerard. Mikey's bro."
I took his hand with a small smile, still dazed by his looks. But I then began wondering where I had heard that name before. Gerard. Hm.
His hands were warm and soft, just like the rest of his skin.
"You can call me just Sam. I'm not very fond of Samantha," I replied with a crooked smile.
"Okay, just Sam," He said, grinning.
"Hey, why were you calling me?" Mikey soon asked Gerard.
"I was gonna ask you if you've seen my comic anywhere," He said with a shrug.
Mikey rolled his eyes. "Could you be a little more specific? I mean, you own like a thousand comic books, Gerard."
I saw as Gerard blushed and shyly looked away from me, his white cheeks growing red. I laughed under my breath.
"You read comics?" I asked.
He shrugged shyly. "Sometimes."
Mikey snorted. "Oh, please. He's always got his head buried in one. I think he fantasizes a lot. One time, he actually tried convincing me that Wonder Woman was his girl-"
Gerard punched Mikey forcefully on the shoulder, cutting him off his sentence. "Duuude," He hissed.
"I love comics. Ever read Doom Patrol?" I asked, trying to make Gerard less embarrassed.
His eyes went wide, as he stared at me, clearly in disbelief. "Y-you read Doom Patrol?"
I nodded. "Got a whole stash of 'em in my room."
He breathed out, a grin appearing on his face. "That's amazing. A girl who reads Doom Patrol." He sounded as though he had just been hypnotized.
I chuckled.
Mikey raised an eyebrow at his brother. "He's in love with you, Sam. I suggest you run."
Gerard's hand slapped Mikey's head, sending Mikey forward and nearly knocking his glasses off him.
"Hey!" He said, fixing his glasses and punching Gerard on the arm. "Idiot."
"Geek," Gerard mumbled.
"I'm not the one who constantly fantasizes about Wonder Woman," Mikey muttered, receiving another slap on the head by his brother.
I laughed. "You guys are funny."
Gerard and Mikey looked at each other before turning to me; a grin appearing on each of their faces.
"Well, um, I better get going. My mom will probably call the cops on me if I don't get home," I said with a crooked smile. "It was nice meeting you both."
Gerard's face dropped, as did Mikey's. "Oh, okay. Hey, which house is yours, anyways?" Mikey asked.
"That one," I said, pointing to the white two story house, which was across the street and three houses down from theirs.
"The one with the huge tree beside it?" He asked, looking to where I was pointing.
"Yep."
They both nodded. "Guess we'll see ya, then," Gerard said with a captivating smile.
For just a tiny second, I was mesmerized.
"Yeah. Bye Gerard. Bye Mikey," I said with a small wave, before I turned my backs on them and began making my way across the street.
"Bye, just Sam!" I heard Gerard call once I was on the sidewalk. I waved again, laughing as Gerard waved dramatically at me, nearly hitting Mikey in the face.
Soon, I was walking up the porch steps to my house. I dug through my backpack, looking for my key. I then held it up after retrieving it and opened the door, stepping inside.
I took one last look outside, seeing that Gerard and Mikey were walking up to their house, talking animatedly with each other.
I smiled, shutting the door.
I couldn't believe those boys lived so close to me, and I had never seen them once.
Damn my anti-socialness.
"Honey, is that you?" I heard my mom call from the kitchen.
"No, serial killer," I called back and could hear her laughing to herself. She then emerged from the kitchen doorway; a smile on her face.
"How was school?" She asked, coming towards me and taking my backpack from my hands. She placed it on the living room couch.
I shrugged. "Boring, as usual."
"Why'd you take so long to come home?" She asked curiously.
I made a face. "I um......fell," I stated quietly.
She looked at me with a weird look. "You fell?"
I nodded, looking down. "I sort of....ran into a mailbox."
She bit her lower lip, choking back a laugh. I rolled my eyes.
"Are you okay?" She said, trying hard to not make me feel embarrassed.
Too late for that.
I sighed. "Mom, I know you think this is hilarious. Laugh all you want."
She choked back another laugh, but couldn't hold it in much longer.
"Oh, honey. What am I gonna do with you?" She said in between laughs.
I shook my head. "Put me in a straitjacket?" I suggested playfully.
She laughed louder.
I sighed and sat myself down on the edge of the couch.
"Mom, do you know any of the people who live in this neighborhood?" I asked, after her laugh had died down.
"You mean our neighbors?" She asked soberly.
I shrugged. "Yeah."
"I've only met our next door neighbors. Lydia and Clyde. You know, they have a son about your age. And he goes to your school. But, of course, how would you know that? You don't talk that much."
I rolled my eyes. "For your information, mother, I've met two boys. And they live right across the street."
She raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Really?"
"Uh huh."
"Hmm," She said. "How'd you meet?"
I hesitated before answering. She'd surely get a kick out of my answer.
"The mailbox I ran into was theirs," I said, biting my lower lip.
And, sure enough, she exploded into laughter and I just sighed.
People are so amused by me.