Hate Me

I came to class soaked. The towel didn’t help much. But I went ahead and sat in my normal seat in the back, shivering a bit. As students piled in, their eyes were on me. I don’t blame them. Who wouldn’t stare at a dripping wet kid who had taken up residence in their classroom.

And then the teacher walked in. The first thing he saw was me, desecrating his classroom. I looked away, knowing that Mr. Landers hated me.

“Stiles! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Sitting,” I told him, hoping that maybe he’d hit me or something. I wanted that gratification that only pain could give me.

“Get out. Find someone to take you home,” he said. Luck wasn’t on my side. The one day he’s actually kind of nice to me is the one day I needed him to hate me.

But either way, I don’t think Kale would mind skipping class to take me home.

*~*~*~*

“He what?” Kale asked, poking me with his index finger. I looked away. I knew telling him was a bad idea. Not only is he going to question me about it endlessly, but he’ll also try to overanalyze it and fit it into one of his random theories. And that never works out well.

“He gave me an ice pack. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to change the subject,” I told him before looking back in front of me, trying to keep my eyes on the sidewalk below.

“Have you asked Amy about it? I mean, they’re half-siblings after all,” he pressed. I know Kale was just trying to be a good friend and get all the facts before he started jumping to conclusions, but I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to think about it. My brain was already far too stressed out with the finals coming up anyways.

“Stop,” I told him in one breathy syllable, like the subject had taken up all of my energy to put more substance into it.

I could just feel the sad puppy-dog face he was giving me, pleading for me to talk more on it.

I didn’t want to. The sooner I could forget Ryan’s ‘kind’ gestures, the better. I didn’t want one moment of his guilt to break through and actually get into my mind. The last thing I wanted was to actually think he cared at all for me.

If he was doing this out of guilt, then why won’t he apologize? Why doesn’t he make up an excuse for his friends and say they were just… I don’t know, making up for their insecurities. But I never got any of that from him.

“Amy’s permanently moving in with her dad, you know,” Kale said, walking by my side down the sidewalk.

“And her grandma?” I asked.

“She’s pissed. The woman says she was more of a mother Amy than Amy’s own mother and certainly more than her father.”

“But I thought she and her mother only lived with her grandma for a few weeks before her mom… you know,” I still didn’t feel right talking about it.

“Oh, she did. Her grandma just wants someone else there so she can tell them they’re worthless,” he explained. The pained look in his eyes said he didn’t want Amy to go through that anymore.

It wasn’t like Amy dumped her problems on any one. She simply told people what they wanted to know if they wanted to know. And Kale just happened to be one of those people who had to know about her, so he asked.

Amy wasn’t a complainer, not in the least. She was a protector. And even though I knew she’d protect me if she saw what happened to me like today, I didn’t want to burden her; I didn’t want to seem weak.

“I hate her grandma,” I stated, anger burning my voice. Anyone as nice as Amy shouldn’t have to endure that. Though, I’ll admit I’ve never met the woman before.

“Yeah, she can be a real bitch,” he said. Unlike me, he’s actually met her. On accident. And I’m sure he regrets it. But I guess now he knows what Amy’s up against.

I still don’t because I’m the third wheel. But, hey, it’s my fault, I don’t put enough effort into my relationships. I always feel worthless anyways. Like I’m always second best to someone. To everyone.

I hate myself.