The Quiet of Compazine

“So glad you condescended to join us for class, Porter,” my English teacher scoffed when I came into class late as fuck. I ignored him and walked to my desk, but it was occupied…by one of the guys from Barnes and Noble the other week, so I was forced to sit in no man’s land – the front of the room. A classroom is like a refrigerator – the cool ones are in the back.

The whole period, I doodled in my notebook. We were discussing Chaucer – stuff I’d read before. I didn’t bother pay attention. My teacher did ask me to stay behind after class, though. “Porter, how exactly do you plan to make up a month’s worth of work?”

“Just give me everything. It should be fairly simple to make up, since you’re a failure at your own job.”

That was when he slapped me hard across the face. Not even my father hit me, but I didn’t flinch. “I want a ten page research paper on Grendel,” he said in a low voice, still angry, but slowly becoming aware of what he had just done to me. “Next week. That should cover everything you missed.”

I grabbed my things and stormed out of his classroom. “Hey, hey! Porter!” a distinctly male voice called my name, and then a hand was on my shoulder. “Are you alright?” one of the guys from Barnes and Noble asked worriedly.

“We saw what happened with Mr. Carver,” the girly looking boy right behind us said quietly.

I shrugged the boy’s hand off. “Could you just leave me alone?”

I swear, they were deaf or something. “I’m Pat,” the girly boy said cheerfully when I stopped at my locker, his hand outstretched towards me. I didn’t shake it, so he let it drop to his side.

“Garrett,” the boy with the nose ring said with a smile. Smiles looked nice on guys. I wish I could smile. When I “smile” it’s usually forced or fake. And I would rather it be genuine than just nice looking, if you know what I mean.

“See you guys around,” I said lamely, shutting my locker and rushing to my next class. No need to make friends. I wouldn’t see any of them after high school, since they would be going to college and I would be stuck with a shitty job here…need I remind you that I didn’t really care?

I got called to the office later that week. Pat and Garrett had ratted me out. Mr. Carver and I had to go to the principal’s office…and he was forever grateful when I denied all rumors that he had hit me. “I really am sorry, Porter,” he apologized when we walked out of the office. “And…thanks…”

“I’m not writing you a research paper,” I said simply, and I walked out of school. “Hey, you two!” I yelled when I saw Pat and Garrett in the parking lot. “Why the hell would you tell the principal about what Mr. Carver did?” I asked angrily.

“Because it’s wrong to hit girls,” Pat muttered, cowering behind his skateboard.

“We’re just trying to help you out, Porter,” Garrett added, hugging his legs to his chest.

That…caught me off guard a little. I never thought of it that way. “Wh…Why? You don’t even know me.”

“Well, why don’t you help us get to know you?” Pat asked hopefully, skating in circles around me.

I don’t know what happened, but we were off to the nearest Starbucks for a drink and to hang out. They had to go back to school after a while, though, and I had to get to work…but I needed some time to cry a bit, first.

Everything and everyone in my life seemed to do nothing but disappoint me, so I lowered the bar in terms of how I view the world. I have pretty low standards because I like to be amazed every now and then. And Pat and Garrett really amazed me with how nice they were. How genuinely nice they were. I mean, how often do you find guys my age as genuinely nice as them? Like, never…

I hope they continue to amaze me.