Even Just a Little

Jonah reached up the next morning in a stretch as the door opened. His mother sent him a quick, tired smile and a soft spoken reminder that he had school as he paused mid-yawn. He finished his yawn quickly and nodded, plastering a fake smile to his face.

He'd originally awoken to the loud murmuring that was typical for his parents in the morning. Usually it was about plans for the day and then each of the children would trickle in one by one until the family somehow managed a balanced breakfast, though he could admit they didn't always eat together as a family at breakfast, before each one of them went their separate ways.

This morning, he had clearly missed the early-morning, tired murmurs and had woken up late.

Which means someone was about to start rushing to get ready.

In his own mind, he knew his pace wasn't rushed. He just needed to change, splash some water on his face, brush his teeth. He'd skip pancakes this morning, or whatever was being offered, he'd grab a bite of toast and run for it.

Not that he was eager to get to school. He was never eager to get to school.

He pressed a kiss to his mother's temple and quickly hugged his dad, waving to his sisters before jogging to catch the bus.

"Look at Jonah, running for the bus." Someone snorted. This is why he hated being late, he got less attention being the first one there than he did when he showed up late. It saved him a lot more trouble when someone would just drive him, so he could miss the bus all together.

But that wasn't happening today.

It had all started in grammar school, for the most part. Insults like "Jonah didn't get eaten by the whale, he is the whale!" oh, haha. The fat jokes stopped when he finally grew into his size somewhere in middle school. He was tall for his age, at this point, and he was pretty positive he was going to keep growing. Although, he wasn't fortunate like Rachel who'd had a period to gauge her growth by.

He hid behind his mop of messy brown hair, though it wasn't as long as he wanted it, not quite long enough to hide behind.

"Dumb fag--"

He was saved by the arrival of the bus and he immediately hid in the seat directly behind the driver. He watched her shoot him a look of pity, she always tried her best to cheer him up without making it obvious that she was talking to him, knowing it'd make his life so much more difficult to be friends with a bus driver. But, Jonah didn't want the pity. He just wanted everything to stop.

He wasn't quite suicidal, he had people who cared about him and he recognized that. He was more of the type who wanted to drop out just to end his misery, but then where would he be in life? Not that he knew where he'd get by staying in school. He was too shy and nervous to act on any of his talents or interests, he was good at music as his parents were like any other American family that wants their kids to take piano from the age of five. He was the only one of his family to keep up with it this far. In the span of those eleven-or-so years he'd also taken up guitar, the stereo-typical misunderstood teenager instruments, as well as his escapades to try to learn drums.

The newest addition to his list was vocals. His music teacher had pushed him to start singing since freshman year, and this year he was taking lessons with him during his lunches. Of course, the students gave him more shit for not only having no one to sit with at lunch, but also taking vocal lessons with a teacher to avoid the humiliation of such a thing.

The bus had pulled up at the school, Jonah realized, and he rushed through it's doors into the fresh air before sneaking through the school doors and down the hallway to the music room, hoping to avoid the eyes of both students and teachers. The regular school policy was meet in the lunch room before first bell to signal the students could go to their lockers and then proceed to homeroom. He had blatantly ignored that rule since the start of freshman year and he hadn't been caught yet.

To say the music room, with it's poster-covered walls and sheets of music scattered about the floor, was a safe haven was a bit of a lie. To him, music itself was the escape from school problems. But, the music room wasn't safe.

It was embarrassing, but even the other self-proclaimed "band-nerds" were cruel to him. That took a real loser, it was an accomplishment he was not proud of in the slightest. It's not like he was a know-it-all. He sat in the back corner alone, trying not to be noticed for the most part. But of all of the outcasts in the music department, the "scene girls," the "future rockstars," the guys who actually were legitimately gay, the "geeks," the "know-it-alls," he was the one left unaccepted by the leftover crowd.

Again, it took some real losers to earn that.

He brushed his fingers over the keys of the keyboard, putting headphones on so no one could hear and know he was there. This room was, conveniently, his homeroom. He had his books for morning classes also, as he'd had homework in them the night before. He'd just have to suffer through the fact that he'd be carrying extra books around from his afternoon classes all morning, because he wasn't leaving and coming back. He didn't want to be seen in the halls.

Sometimes, he liked being invisible. To the most of the department, that's what he was. Their cruelty was more of the ignorant sort rather than the aggressive name-calling. He was essentially nothing to any of them. And, he kind of liked it that way. Invisibility was the most he could hope for in this hell.

His fingers danced through the Phantom of the Opera theme of their own accord, adding in a few tweaks here and there that he liked the sound of. He smiled to himself at the music before quickly hurrying to his seat at the sound of the bell as his teacher walked in.

Mr. Hasse gave him a slightly disapproving look, as they both knew he'd be the one to get in trouble if a student was in his room before first bell, but he continued to his desk as the homeroom kids started to trickle in.

Something had hyped his grade up, they were all excitedly whispering when they entered and it didn't settle during announcements which meant the gossip was good.

Jonah struggled to listen to the girls next to him while doodling in his book.

"No, he wasn't drunk, he was completely sober when he cheated on her." One of them argued.

"I heard he was drunk." The blonde shot back.

"Why would he be drunk? Who throws a party on a Monday night, especially one Caroline isn't invited to?" Her red-head friend rolled her eyes.

Jonah chuckled quietly to himself at their bickering.

"Brent Jacobs definitely cheated on her sober, I am telling you."

"He's a real douche." The blonde crossed her arms.

That, Jonah could agree with. The guy gave him nothing but shit in the locker room before gym class.

"I don't think he was good enough for her." The red-head agreed.

"Of course not, he's a totally pothead!"

The bell rang and Jonah sighed, getting up and closing his black marble notebook.

***

"Who started that rumor?" Caroline laughed, finally hearing what had caused the strange looks from earlier in the morning as she pulled a black marble composition book from her locker. A rumor had gone around school recently that she and Brent Jacobs had been dating. It was completely false, of course and she had rightfully denied it.

"I think Brent did." Her best friend Lydia shook her head, laughing. "He'd love for it to be true. He's totally into you and he knows the only way he'd get you is in his dreams."

"But starting a rumor that he cheated on me and I broke it off?" She laughed. "That just makes him sound terrible."

"He's a guy, Caroline, I don't understand how their mind works." Lydia rolled her eyes, pushing her sleek, black hair behind her back. "But people are talking because you denied seeing him and then this went around--"

"People are stupid." She shook her head with a grin. "Help me get the word out, would you? That it's not true, any of it?"

"Of course." Lydia laughed, nodding. "Can we stop by my locker before homeroom?"

Caroline nodded, still smiling, following her friend to her locker which only a couple down the hall. They were a fortunate enough pair that there weren't many kids in their grade with names between B-e and C-l. Caroline Bevan started the homeroom, top of the list, and Alissa Clemens finished the group of twenty-four, leaving Lydia Cheng right in the middle as well as in her best friend's homeroom.

Which also meant they could walk there together.

"Today is going to be more than a little interesting." Lydia commented. "Especially with freshman try-outs being today."

Caroline agreed, smiling at the thought of the after school activity which postponed her arrival home.

"Are you going to the party tomorrow?" Lydia asked on their walk. Caroline frowned for a moment before remembering the long weekend they had, from Thursday to Sunday there was no school for teacher's conferences.

"Probably." Caroline smiled in response.

"Awesome, you wanna sleepover my place afterwards? Me, you, Kaitlyn, Ashley, Gwen, and Hope?"

"Sounds awesome," She nodded, before adding in a joking manner, "It's just what I need after this horrible breakup for a relationship that never existed."

Lydia laughed, eyes shining in amusement as they entered homeroom.

What would she do without these girls she called her best friends, Caroline wondered, because they're what make life worth living.