A Match Into Water

The second I smashed my palm onto the snooze button on my alarm, I knew that today would be just like yesterday. And the day before that. And every other hellish day before that one. All I wanted was to go back to sleep, forget everything again. I burrowed myself under the blankets, trying to recover the blissful nothingness of sleep for a few minutes before my alarm went off again. Instead, I spent the entire time trying to knead out the anxiety knotting in my stomach. I curled in closer on myself, feeling scared and alone even in this safe spot. By the time my alarm began to buzz again, I was fully awake and ready to get the day over with. Thoughts of peacefulness were far from my mind.

I stumbled into the bathroom, tiredness weighing me down. I hadn't slept much last night. I hadn't slept much in a long, long time. When I pushed through the door, I saw Mike already by the sink brushing his teeth. He gave me a small smile around a mouthful of toothpaste. I grinned back, picking up my own toothbrush. I pointed a finger at his hair, which stuck up in every direction from sleeping on it. He rolled his eyes at me, because surely my hair looked far worse. Yet I didn't check, keeping my eyes averted from the mirror.

After spitting a mouthful of runny toothpaste into the sink, Mike loudly gargled some mouthwash right in my face. Typical. At least he seemed to have forgiven me for forgetting about him yesterday. I wished I could forgive myself that easily.

Mike spat out his mouthwash, watching it swirl down the drain. He then turned to me and wrinkled his nose dramatically. "Dude, you need a shower."

I tried to punch him in the arm, which was hard since he was half a foot taller than me. "Shut up," I laughed, and he slid past me to go get dressed, middle finger wagging behind him.

My smile stayed for a moment even after he'd left, and I remembered what a great brother I had. My smile disappeared as I slid my sleep-rumpled hoodie over my head and saw how hideous my new cuts were, and I remembered that Mike probably wanted a great brother, too. I wished I could be that for him. Someone to look up to. I hoped he didn't look up to me, because then he'd be fucked as well.

I pulled off the rest of my clothes, quickly stepping into the shower. I tried to go as fast as I could. Tried to ignore the fat rolling off of me. Tried to ignore the initial burn of the water as it ran over my arms. Tried to ignore the salty taste that the water acquired as it passed over my eyes.

Once I was clean and dried off, I put on a pair of jeans that were lying on the floor and a different hoodie, this one gray instead of yesterday's navy. Perfect for hiding myself. Perfect for blending in. Check it over in the mirror. Not perfect.

I spent a while running a brush through my tangled hair. At least, attempting to. I then took my time stuffing my half-finished homework into my backpack. Eating up the clock so that I wouldn't be forced to sit down for breakfast. Mom and Dad would just talk about work and then ask about my grades, which I didn't care to admit. I already knew I was a failure- I didn't need the big red letters to tell me so, too. Besides, it wasn't like I really needed the calories.

It was only when Mike called up from the kitchen, threatening to take my car and leave me to hitch a ride with Tony, that I finally ventured downstairs. Mike crossed his arms, muttering "diva" as I walked by. I just smirked at him, leading the way out the front door and to the car parked in the driveway. Mike followed, then hastily stuck his head back inside the house to shout goodbye to our parents. No wonder he was the favorite son.

After Mike and I got into the car, I put the key into ignition and it rumbled to life. We backed out of the driveway and began the fifteen-minute trip to school. We didn't exactly live very close to it, something I was actually very grateful for. Mike pulled open the glove compartment in front of the passenger seat where he was sitting, digging through his stash of CDs.

He settled on some hip hop, bass thumping through the entire car. He pounded his hands on the dash, keeping perfect rhythm. He always listened to this kind of music. Personally, I couldn't stand it, but I figured I owed it to him to let him choose. The wheel was vibrating under my hands, but when I made to turn the volume down, Mike swatted me away.

I made a face at him, but continued driving with the music blasting. We pulled into the parking lot after a ride void of talking, whether due to tiredness or just lack of anything in common I was unsure. Even before I'd completely pulled to a stop, Mike had jumped out of the car, waving to his friends from the basketball team across the lot. He gave me a rushed goodbye and ran off to join them.

And just like that, I was by myself again.

***

If every living thing dies alone, what am I doing here?

I stared at the words I'd written in the margins of my half-complete history notes. Scribbled, more like it. They'd just been a flitting thought in my head, yet I'd been compelled to write them down. Now, I reread them over and over again, trying to absorb exactly what I meant by writing them. Trying to get their resounding truth out of my head. I really couldn't afford to think like that right now.

When the droning lecture at the front of the room finally ended, I quickly scooped up my books so that I could be the first one in the halls. I made my way to the side set of stairs that not as many people used. Safer there. I rounded the corner to the steps, yet ended up running into something. A person.

I looked up at there face to apologize since they were taller than me, just like everybody else. But for some reason, whoever it was had a look of sheer terror on their face. It soon dissolved, and was replaced with confusion. I was confused too, because even though I really had no friends, I pretty much knew who everyone at the school was, and this was a new face. Slightly rounded, with earnest almond-shaped eyes.

He took a deep breath, as if to calm himself. I must've really surprised him.

"Hey, sorry about that," I said, readjusting my sweatshirt.

"No problem," he replied, and I caught his eyes flicking over me. Assessing.

I turned to go back up the stairs, but the other kid cleared his throat.

I looked back, saw him nervously run a hand through his spiky black hair. "I'm, uh, well this is kinda my first day here, and I'm, well, lost. Could you, maybe, erm, help me?"

I stared at him, trying to determine whether he was telling the truth or if this was just some elaborate joke. The embarrassment on his face as he bit his lip and waited for my response seemed honest enough. "Sure," I said, smiling at him.

He grinned his thanks, and pulled out a schedule from his bag. I glanced it over, searching for his next class. Right next to a tiny number four was the word geometry. Just like on my own, way back on the first day of school. Way back when life wasn't the complete hell that it was now. I read carefully, and saw that we had the same teacher.

"Actually, you're in my class."

I could tell he was really happy about that, though trying not to show it. I couldn't blame him, though. Must be tough, coming to a new school. Must be nice, leaving everything behind.

"Let's go, then. We're gonna be late."

I led him up the stairs, a little self-conscious that he was looking at me from behind. The hallway we were in was already almost empty, and the kid caught up so that he was walking beside me. Even though he was taller, he had this younger look about his face. We were walking in an awkward silence, so I tried to break the ice. I really didn't know him anyways.

"So, uh, how old are you?" I asked.

He looked at me, grateful that I'd struck up a conversation. "Fifteen," he answered, eyes wandering to the colorful posters covering the walls, ads for drama club and school spirit.

I nodded to myself. A freshman. "Damn, you must be pretty smart then. Eleventh grade math, huh?"

He bobbed his head sheepishly.

We made our way to a classroom tucked in the corner of another hallway. The door was already closed when we arrived, and I made a hopeful face at the other kid as I pushed open the door. The entire class stopped what they were doing to stare at me, and I shuffled inside. I could hear another set of feet behind me.

The teacher, a younger woman who had absolutely no clue what she was doing, sat at her desk grading papers. It was clearly her first year (she looked to be only in her early twenties), and understood the dress code about as well as the students themselves. Her only teaching tactic was handing out endless worksheets, which didn’t really help anyone.

She uncrossed her exposed legs and walked over to us in three-inch heels, staring down at me and blinking her heavily-mascaraed eyes. Even though she didn't understand half the subject matter, she certainly knew how to sign her name at the bottom of a detention slip. But when her sight landed on the person behind me, her glower turned into a smile.

"Thanks for helping our new student find his way to class. He's going to take the empty desk next to yours, okay?"

I nodded, thankful to not be getting a detention. I made my way to the side of the room where my desk was located, near the window. I could see the football field from this height, and I wanted nothing more to climb out. Get to my car. Leave.

I forced myself to stay put, seeing as though it was still only the morning. Then I realized that things could only get worse from there. As the new kid slid into the desk beside me, a worksheet was slapped onto my desk. "For you, homo."

I clenched my teeth, because of course Danny sat behind me in this class. He had given me two papers, one of which I passed to the kid beside me. I still didn't know his name, but when I turned to ask, he'd already taken out a pencil and calculator and had started on the worksheet. I tried to follow suit, but Danny kept kicking the leg of my desk, making my pencil jump. After all the numbers on the paper just ran into each other, I gave up and set the pencil down.

I gazed out the window, trying to distract myself from the jarring of the desk, the occasional grunts of laughter and mutterings of "fag" from behind me. My stomach growled slightly, but that wasn't why I was anxious to get to lunch. I just really needed to get out of here, go sit outside and clear my head. It wasn't like I was going to eat much anyways.

I took to looking at the new kid, diligently solving complex formulas, pausing only to punch things into his calculator. He chewed on the top of his mechanical pencil as he worked, and I found myself thinking that it was kind of adorable. Was I supposed to be thinking that? Did I care?

He finished his work early, upholding my earlier judgement that he was crazy smart. He looked up from his paper and saw me staring at him, and I quickly glanced away. Thankfully, Danny was to busy hitting on some girl next to him to notice.

When the clock finally struck that familiar time for lunch, I was swept up in the mad dash to escape the classroom. Somehow Danny still managed to find me, pulling on me by the hood of my sweatshirt and hurling me into a locker. My nose stung from the collision, and my eyes watered. I forced myself not to blink.

I touched my fingertips to my tender nose and they came away stained red.

"Oops," he said sarcastically, grinning. "At least we know it's alive." He started to laugh, because apparently that passed as a joke. He then spotted Ben and a few other friends down the hallway and ran to join them, shoving other kids out of the way as he went.

I could feel blood dripping down my face now. Blood, blood, blood. Too bad this wasn't the kind I wanted. I fumbled for my bag on the floor, dragging it behind me as I slipped into the bathroom. Thankfully, it was empty. Everyone had gone to lunch by now. I grabbed a wad of paper towels and pressed them to my nose. They were soaked within seconds, and I had to get fresh ones.

I made my way to the mirror, applying pressure to my nose with one hand while trying to wash off the dried blood with the other. I then tilted my head back, trying to stanch the blood that was still flowing. I dug my fingernails into my palm, trying to stop the tears.

I faced that person in the mirror, beat up and covered in blood. The truth was, that guy deserved it. He was awful and disgusting and God did I hate him. The fault was entirely his that nobody liked him.

I heard the bathroom door creak open, and I tried to wipe away the tears as well as I could. When he stepped into the fluorescent light, I could see that it was the freshman again. "What do you want now?" I snapped.

He looked a little intimidated, a little scared. He cleared his throat, trying to find a voice. "I, um, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay."

Silence hung heavily in the air. Nobody had asked me if I was okay. Ever. I already knew the answer. At least, the one that everybody wanted to hear. "I'm fine."

He nodded slowly, though I could tell that he didn't believe me. Why did he care so much anyways?

"Y'know," he said, pointing to the paper towel I was pressing to my nose. "Tilting your head back doesn't help. It's actually better to lean forward."

I did as he said, realizing that I really shouldn't be so hard on him. He just wanted to help. "Thanks," I told him, and he just shrugged. "How'd you know that, anyways?"

He looked nervous for a second, then stuttered, "I- I just get nosebleeds a lot."

I didn’t really think that was the truth, but I didn’t want him to dislike me for getting into his business. I shrugged it off and I simply smiled at him from under my bloody makeshift tissue, and he seemed to relax a bit. His advice really did help, and soon the blood seemed to have clotted. I threw out the used towels, stuffing another one in my bag just in case.

He stood awkwardly to the side as I did this, then took it as an opportunity to introduce himself. "I'm Jaime, by the way."

"Vic," I said, holding open the bathroom door for him. He mumbled thanks, then waited for me to catch up so that I could go first. He was still pretty lost. I made my way back down the stairs, Jaime following close behind.

Halfway down it dawned on me that he was probably missing class right now. "Um, don't you have somewhere you're supposed to be?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I've got lunch. That's one class I understand."

I laughed, giving in to his attempt to lighten the mood. I showed him where the lunch line in the cafeteria was, then went to scout out a table far away from everyone else. I pulled out a bottle of water and a granola bar from my bag, munching on it as I pulled my notebook out from my bag. I washed the fruity granola down with some water as I rooted through my bag looking for a pen.

When I found one, I flipped open to the next available page, past all my other messy words. Before writing anything I made sure that nobody was looking over my shoulder. Then I wrote down the words that had been floating through my head all day.

If every living thing dies alone, what am I doing here?

As I penned in the dot below the squiggle, turning the thought into a question, I spotted Jaime coming toward me from the lunch line. As he set down his styrofoam tray on the table, I knew why the line was a question. Because right now, I wasn't alone, was I?