The Nerd Boy

My head was spinning with words and phrases that made no sense to me. I tried to put them together but they kept on going in different directions. I knew for a fact that I hated every single fucking aspect that came with English. I couldn't do it to save my life and I would admit that with no feelings of embarrassment. It was just this subject that I always managed to struggle with anything else I'd be able to do completely fine.

Who knows, I could have been dyslexic, but every time I brought that one up my parents called me silly and sent me up to my room to think about things sensibly. My parents have always had high hopes for me, they have a certain borderline for what grades I get, if I don't do well there will be consequences.

For instance, last semester I managed to get a D, they banned me from any kind of technology available in our small but quaint house. They probably expected me to take it like a good little kid but I was not a good kid at all. I was rebellious for all of those weeks, I was the kind of child you'd see on those television programs, the ones about the bad kids of today.

One year and a half later I was still struggling with that damn subject and it was completely noticeable. My friends teased me on the fact that I don't know how to spell the simplest of words. Sometimes they pissed me off and spoke to me like I'm a five year old. That never went down well, believe me.

I groaned feeling like the lesson had been going on longer than it should have. I was aware that it was only an hour long but to me it felt like years upon years. I felt like slamming my head into the table and knocking myself out so I could get away from this ongoing hell. When the bell finally rang, I was the happiest person in the world.

I grabbed onto my bag, throwing my book carelessly into it as I made my way to the exit. The teacher looked like he wanted to say something, but I didn't give him the chance to. I was too quick to exit and because of this I managed to knock right into someone who was coming into the room. Why was he coming into the room in the first place? It was break!

The guy had stumbled back and fell to the ground; I looked down at him wondering who had managed to clumsily walk into me.

Oh, look who it is, that little unpopular geek. I think his name was Oscar or something but I was not one to remember names as much as faces. He had delayed me from escaping the room. I was in the right mood to show him exactly what hell looked like but I became a bit distracted.

I've always had this fixation with blue, everything about it. It wasn’t just a color that can clear your mind, but it can make you feel sad too. It was a sad but beautiful color and that was the color of this guy's eyes.

I cleared my throat, looking away from the boy, "Watch where you're going, freak."

He managed to climb back up to his feet without looking me in the eye. I expected him to be cowering and begging me not to hurt him because that was what people usually do. They saw Francis Darson as a guy that could rip you apart and destroy everything you had ever built.

Instead, this guy actually rolled his eyes at me. The nerve! People like him should know their place. I planned on saying something but the boy walked away from me and into the classroom, I was certainly not going back in there. He was lucky this time.

I ran a hand through my short black hair feeling like I really needed a day away. School was becoming too much for me recently. I really needed a break.

"Hey, Franny!"

I grimaced at the nickname, I hated when people called me that. It was Francis, no shortening of the name at all. I turned around to face the person seeing it was none other than one of my so-called friends.

"What now Carson?" I asked the smaller boy with the fiery red hair.

He smirked at me. "You have got to see this, seriously. A kid in my photography class is kind of badmouthing you."

Everyone was bad-mouthing me, it's not like they could all bow down to me and like me at the same time. That wasn't possible, only a few were close to me to be able to do that. Carson was one of them, but the guy could sometimes become annoying to hang around with.

Although, I was intrigued at what Carson had just told me. Bumping into that geek had put me in a bad mood on top of the English lesson so I needed some serious stress relief.

Carson directed me to where this kid was and I recognized him immediately. I sighed, this was another stupid joke that these guys were playing.

"For god sake Kennedy, get down from there," I instructed.

This joker was the worst one of all. He liked to flit between two different----no two completely different groups. He had a game that he liked to play, one where he'd play with peoples' feelings making them feel like they were close to him and then he'd drop them without looking back. He hung around that guy I had bumped into earlier too, what was his motive for that? I never really understood him.

He folded his arms, "You can't tell me what to do, Franny Pancake! Listen up everyone: Francis Darson shaves his balls!"

First off: Franny Pancake? What the actual fuck? I usually would have just ignored him because this was Kennedy we were talking about, but he was seriously pissing me off.

"Carson, do something to shut him up," I looked over to my right seeing the red head ready in action to follow whatever I told him.

He knew that we couldn't actually hurt Kennedy because he was kind of one of our friends. But playing with Kennedy's mind to think we'd do something would get him off the table and stop spouting ridiculous lies. Carson did what I said as he bounced on the table giving Kennedy an evil smirk. Kennedy's smile seemed to disappear slowly as it was becoming more of an awkward one.

Kennedy jumped off of the table running over to me. "You know I'm really sorry. If you want to kill someone go do that to someone else!"

I gave Carson a look as the guy shrugged looking disappointed for the fact that he no longer had the chance to pummel Kennedy like he wanted. Kennedy was annoying and he made a lot of people hate him because of his personality. I didn't really hate him; this guy had helped me in a lot of ways.

"Just forget it but don't fucking do that again," I demanded and paused remembering a certain thing that happened not that long ago, "On a different subject I saw your little friend earlier, he carelessly walked into me."

Kennedy tilted his head to the left, "Which one?"

"The short, skinny, glasses freak."

He recognized who I was talking about and shook his head. "He's not a freak. Oscar is really cool when you get to know him."

I raised an eyebrow, was he actually friends with Oscar? I felt like laughing at this, I thought he only hung out with him to ruin him later because that's what he usually did. This sounded much different though.

Carson snickered, "Yeah, cool at being a geek. Maybe you should get him to tutor you Mr. Dumbass Darson."

Why did they always do this to me? Seriously.

"Fuck no, never going to happen." I was sure on this one.

I didn't notice that Kennedy was smirking when I said this; I have never been the most observant person you could ever meet.