Demolition Lovers

The only lesson I really enjoyed at school was music. It was the one lesson which I could truly express myself without being judged for it. I could sing how I felt or I could play the guitar to how I felt. Usually though, I just stuck with playing the guitar. It was easier and I didn't have to embarrass myself if I sang a note too high or low. Singing was more for myself, I very rarely sang aloud, especially by myself. Music was like the only lesson I was doing well in, and there was no reason for me not to do well. I connected with music, and that connection is what made me do well. My music teacher, Mr Forster, was also pretty inspiring. He was able to play the piano perfectly without missing a key plus he had a pretty amazing singing voice for a guy.

Today we had to try and write some of our own lyrics and in the next lesson we'd be putting music to it. I had so many ideas coursing through my head but none of them felt like they could fit together to make some form of song. I started to think of recent events; whether it was in the news or whether it was what had happened to me recently. My mind started soaring back to last night. How low I felt because of how stupid my mom made me feel. How much I wanted to run away. And that's when my wrist started to move my hand to write random words on the paper before me.

Random words soon turned into sentences and the sentences soon began to look a lot like verses and those verses soon turned into a completed song. I read it over a couple of times to check for any form of mistakes before reading it aloud to myself.

I think of running away,
I can't keep running away.
Can't keep feeling the same.
I can't keep taking the blame.
I wanna run with you.
I don't care what we do,
Gotta get out of this place,
Because it feels like yesterday.

Day...day...day oh oh oh...

There we go.
Can't be wrong
Cause it feels like yesterday
I can't be wrong.
I'm re-living yesterday.
I can't be wrong.
Cause it feels like yesterday.
I can't be wrong.
I'm re-living yester...

The two verses repeated itself three times and although it was repetition, I felt happy about it. As I said before, music is the one place I can really get across how I feel. The end of the lesson seemed to come around really quickly today because that meant I had history shortly and I really wasn't prepared for that lesson at all. Mr Forster told us that we'd be performing our songs next week, so obviously my mind was more focused on that than history.

I used to be in a band, which is where my decently good lyric writing skills came from. We were called Pencey Prep and we'd sometimes play at open mic nights at the local coffee shop. We picked up a few fans along the way but eventually had to stop the band when one of the members had to move to another state. For me, it was quite upsetting seeing as though I had gotten so into the band, but it was understandable. I hoped the band would of carried on without him, but we decided it wouldn't have worked. So instead I went solo but I never played at the open mic nights, definitely not by myself. That would have me too much anxiety and then an anxiety attack would have made its way through me and I really didn't want that to happen.

Bringing myself back to the present, I decided that it wouldn't be the worst decision of my life to skip the next few lessons. The teachers probably wouldn't notice, plus, I could sit behind the bleachers and no one would be able to tell I was even in there. So that's what I decided to do. I waited til near the end of break to get my acoustic guitar and when the bell signaled it was the end of break, I quickly made my way across the extremely muddy field. Most people would usually be scared of being busted, especially if it was their first time of skipping a lesson but I felt really relaxed for some odd reason. Maybe it was because I knew what I'd be doing in the next couple of hours. The one thing that I was most passionate about.

When I reached the bleachers I ducked to get underneath them, even for my height I found there were some things that were even smaller than me. It wasn't, surprisingly, muddy under here which made everything seem a little more okay. However, just to be sure, I pulled out my spare hoodie from my bag and placed it on the floor so I could sit on it. I sat and rested my guitar across my knees because if I ruined this guitar then, well, I'd be really upset. I pretty much respected this guitar like Christians respected God, which seems like a stupid comparison but it's more than true.

I looked around, just to be sure everyone had gone, because getting caught wasn't something that I wanted to happen, before getting out my music notebook. In it it had every song, chord, completed song or just random lyrics I had ever written. I was proud of my notebook and I took it everywhere with me in case I had a random outburst of creativity whilst I was out of the house. I've had it since I was about eleven. Since I could remember, music had been my only real escape from the world. Most kids would turn to their toys or a TV show, but I had my music.

Setting my notebook down in front of me, I started strumming randomly at my guitar strings. I sang aloud the lyrics I had wrote, trying to pick up a tune which I felt fit to the mood of the song. I was constantly writing chords and notes down in my notebook, trying to find the one that would fit the lyrics best. I got so into the music, into the rhythm my guitar decided to strum, into the way the lyrics rolled off my tongue into a perfect tune with the guitar.

As most song writing does, it took a bit of time to get it all right and to get the right tune and I hardly noticed that it was lunch time already. I wasn't sure as to how long it had actually been lunch time. I guess I really did get into the music. However, it didn't bother me, just as long as no one came over here, I guess I'll be fine. I don't usually eat anyway with this strict diet and all.

I decided to take a little break from music and instead did some people watching. Everyone seemed so happy to say they were at school. There was so much laughter and smiling and it hurt me a little to know I'll never be as normal, as happy, as they all are. A couple stood out to me most. Male and female. He was fairly tall, brown curly hair wearing skin tight jeans and she had quite a petite frame with blonde hair and one of the shortest skirts I'd ever seen. Them two together seemed a little strange, like they didn't match. Usually the blonde would go for a jock, right? That sounds so stereotypical, but she just looks like the usual movie portrayed popular girl who everyone loves.

Sometimes I wish I could be in the perfect relationship, no worries, just you and your life long best friend connected through sharing the same feelings for one another. I've been in relationships before but none of them ever worked out. None of them were ever serious on their half. Apparently I was a very needy person and I was very clingy. Of course I didn't see myself like that. I just like having someone there.

Lunch quickly turned into lesson four; Biology. I've never been good at Biology, even if it is more 'common sense' because it's to do with the body. I mean, why am I ever going to need to know what a ribosome is when I'm later playing guitar, or how the digestive system works? I'm not. That's up to the doctors and nurses to know that.

I had finished my song a while ago but I didn't really want to go class. No one wants to class but today, everything felt so overwhelming, especially after last night. It had dawned on me all day but for some reason the emotions of yesterday hit me there and then and I couldn't do anything else but cry. I was so glad I wasn't in class, but then again if I were in class, my mind would be far too wandered for me to have gotten to this point of reliving my past. I hated it. Just thinking of how low my own mom made me feel. I guess it didn't help that my song reflected last nights events. Urgh, I tried to push the thoughts to the back of my head and decided now would be a good time to go to the toilet to sort myself out.

The walk to the toilet felt long and more daunting compared to any other time I had walked this length. Maybe it was because I knew my face would be blotchy from crying, or maybe it was because now I was scared of being caught by a teacher. I'd like to think it was the former rather than the latter. I hated people seeing me when I was crying, especially when my face was all red and puffy because it's not a good luck. It also brings you a lot of unwanted attention which is something I don't like.

Of course, the toilets were empty. Many of the teachers had a strict 'go to the toilet in your own time' rule which is why it'd be easier to go now. And of course, my face was very blotchy. It was bright red mixed with my pale skin tone and it looked very off. I splashed cool water on my face before going off to do my business and wash my hands again afterwards.

I looked back in the mirror to see the redness had started to go down and my face was starting to look more itself again. The contrast between my pale skin tone and black hair becoming more clear again.

I was tempted to skip the rest of Biology but I wasn't prepared to sit around in the toilet for the next thirty-five minutes so I decided to make my way to. I'd give the teacher some bullshit excuse that I had an appointment and only just come back into school; hopefully she'd buy it.

However, I wasn't even half way to the class before I ran into the all too familiar stranger that is my soon to be math tutor.

"Shit, sorry," I squeaked as I noticed I made Gerard, or Mr. Way, drop all his papers on the floor.
"It's fine," he brushed it off quickly, "I should have been looking where I was going." I simply nodded.
"Speaking of looking, I was just about to come get you, why aren't you in lesson?" he questioned.
"Appointment," I blurted all too loudly. Gerard, dammit, Mr. Way seemed to look like he bought it before motioning for me to follow him. I wasn't sure what it was about, maybe it was to do with the tutoring. Or maybe he was coming to talk about last night? Shut up, Frank. Why would he want to talk about last night. Nothing worth talking about happened.

Mr. Way led me to a small room which I suppose was his office and ushered me inside and closed the door. It was fairly large to say it was for a math tutor. It had his main desk at the back center of the room with one of those soft cushioned spinny chairs on the opposite side to which I was standing on. There was a smaller desk to the left of the room with two chairs which I guessed would be my desk for when I would be being taught by him. There were filing cabinets to the right along with plenty of papers stacked on top of them, probably getting ready to be filed. What caught my attention, however, was a poster on his cork board. A Smiths poster?

"You're a Smiths fan?" I meant to question in my head but spoke aloud. Damn.
"Yeah. They're one of my favorite bands actually." Mr. Way replied with a smile.
"Awesome," I simply mouthed.
"Anyway, pull a chair up and we'll go through everything now so we know where to go from here." He pointed to a chair as he sat in his own comfy looking seat. He relaxed into it as I pulled up the hard, unwanted, student chair. I sighed heavily as I sat down.

Mr. Way had began to flick through a few papers and I noticed how his eyelashes kept flickering up and down as he started new sentences and found the page he was looking for. He looked directly at me and I noticed how his hazel brown eyes looked very delicate between his rather long eyelashes.

"As you said earlier, you do have your exam in June, June 17th to be exact. So that gives us a couple of months to help improve your grade. Is there any particular grade you're aiming for?" He asked.
"At least a C, I'd like to as least walk away from school with a pass," I said honestly. I planned to go to a music college, but that didn't stop me from wanting a pass. Mr. Way nodded as if understanding.
"My idea is that you come here when you have your math classes, I'll speak to your teacher about it, but one-on-one classes are more helpful to get your chosen grade because of how much attention you get by it," He continued with me just continuously nodding when I felt it was appropriate.
"You can just come straight here and we'll get straight to work on it, what do you say, Frank?"
"Yeah, urhm, yeah, that'd be great," I replied with a small smile to which he returned.
"Anyway, get out your math book and we'll have a look at where you're at."

I pulled out my math book and opened it to the new page and when I looked up I noticed Mr. Way had made his way around the desk to sit himself next to me. I didn't mind, nor did I find it strange. He was my teacher, he was supposed to sit next to me and help guide me.

I groaned when I realised what topic of math I was currently studying.
"Algebra?" I questioned. I wasn't particularly good at algebra, actually, I wasn't any good at algebra. I mean, who thought it would be a good idea to mix letters with numbers? 2a-3b = -4a+7b made no sense to me at all, nor did I think it ever would.

I pulled out a pen from my bag and ruled of from my last piece of work and wrote out the current date. I wasn't too keen on my handwriting. I had always found it quite messy, but I guess I'd better learn to live with it.

"Okay, so algebra. What do you already know?" Mr. Way asked.
"Honestly? Nothing, the teacher tried explaining and I just kind of turned my hearing off when he started going into letters and numbers," I replied with a light shrug. I half expected a long lecture on how I should be constantly listening in class because it's an important year for me and I'll only do well if I listen but that lecture never came.
"Well, I guess we better start taking a close look at it then," was all he replied in an understanding voice with a light hearted smile. I'd never really had that with a teacher, the thought of him understanding me felt too strange for me, however I think I liked it. Having the recognition that I needed help which made him understanding of me.

Maybe Mr. Way wouldn't be such a bad tutor after all.