Snake Bite Heart With a Bubble Gum Smile

I lay awake, snuggled to Alex's chest. He rubs my back, attempting to make me sleep.

But I can't.

The reason is not as petty as a surface that is too comfortable. No, this lack of sleep, this insomnia, is brought on by the largest evil in any teenager's life: school.

School is such an unnecessary evil at that. Why couldn't I just be home schooled? I know professionals argue that school is where children gain social skills necessary for life but in my years of school I never gained any social skills. I may lack them to the point of diagnosable insanity. The social aspect of school kills me.

I don't think anyone in my family is even aware of my problem with school.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Alex asks, breaking the once calming silence.

I jump at the suddenness of him voice.

"I just can't sleep," I answer.

"Liar. Tell me what's wrong."

How does he know these things?

"Its just school," I answer.

"What about school? Is someone hurting you? Do I need to kick some ass?" his protective side shines.

"No, Alex. School is just hard for me."

"What? The work? If you need help in school you can tell me."

"Not that. You wouldn't understand. Just don't worry about it."

Just drop it.

"Tell me," he demands, voice in whisper.

"Don't worry. It'll be fine."

Stop asking. I'd rather not tell you. I don't want to have to explain this.

"Please," he pleads.

"Alex," I start.

"August, I want to know so I can help you."

"You can't help me with this."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't help me with my social incompetence," I blurt.

Damn. I really didn't want to tell him.

But he pushed me to it.

"What are you talking about?" he is clearly confused.

"I don't do well around people. I have social issues. School is just teeming with people and it's hard for me to deal with. You probably don't understand since you're charismatic all the time."

Why didn't I inherit the charismatic gene? Both my parents are perfectly fine with talking to large groups of people. Alex obviously has no problem talking to complete strangers. Why do I have such a problem with spoken word?

"I already knew that," Alex says.

"You did?"

"Well, yeah. I read your diary. It's all in there. When we went to the mall, you obviously had a problem with the amount of people there. At that party we threw for you, you left to go to your room and didn't come back down. When you were five, you refused to play with the other children on the play ground. When you were born, you refused to go to anyone that wasn't mom and dad. You've always been afraid of people."

I stay quiet. I have no response for him.

"Look, its going to be okay," Alex states.

"I guess."

"It will. Just go to sleep. You'll feel better," he instructs.

"Okay," I snuggle deeper into his chest.

"Night, night," he says.

"Night, night," I reply.