Knives and Pens

I spend the days following Hot Guy’s arrival (who, I learned, is called Andy) avoiding being seen while I stare at him in the classes we share. I can’t help but find him interesting, and the fact that he seems as introverted as I am only adds to his appeal. Of course, I don’t speak a word about this to anybody. I’m quite happy to keep my perving on the down low, and in all honesty, it’s nice that so far, he hasn’t noticed me, as much as a teeny tiny part of me wants him to see me, and maybe take an interest.

I watch him keep to himself during classes, listening to music instead of listening to the teacher, and his head is most likely to be found stuck in the notebook he carries around with him everywhere. I wonder what he writes about, if it’s a journal for him to express his thoughts, or if it’s something a little bit more creative like poetry or sketches. I love watching how engrossed he becomes when he writes, or draws, and how he seems to shut out the whole world while he loses himself in whatever it is he’s doing. I find myself slightly jealous of just how unashamed he is of who he is, and how self-confident he is. He’s not the kind of person who fades in the background, and I’m pretty certain he’s unaware of the fact that he’s the current topic of conversation in the school.

He gives off a kind of ‘I don’t give a fuck who you are, I’ll punch you if you come near me’ vibe. Whether it’s a deliberate ploy to keep everyone away, or not, is debateable, but it sure as hell is effective. The jocks certainly don’t like him, but his height and general demeanour ensures they don’t go near him to avoid a confrontation they may very well lose. He might be skinny, but I’m pretty certain he could take them on if he had to. Everybody keeps away from him, unwilling to risk the chance that you might very well be met with an unpleasant reception. He doesn’t seem to care, though, and in fact, he seems downright happy to be left to his own devices. I only wish I was able to have the same freedom he does to be left alone, with no expectations from others and no friends demanding that you pretend to be something you’re not. His notebook reminds me of my own, which I keep safely in my bag for fear of someone trying to prise it from me or it magically disappearing. I’d seen Andy’s own notebook fall prey to it when Emily bumped into his table during biology, causing his notebook to fall to the ground. He snatched it back up before anyone had a chance to swipe it off him, and that was exactly the reason why I never let mine leave the safety of my bag. If anyone ever saw the contents, which was pretty much everything that was going on in my head, I’d die. There were things in the notebook that I wasn’t ready to share with my friends and family, let alone share with the whole world.

I had listened to the guys talk about Andy, asking if we should invite him to sit with us. I hadn’t offered much in the way of an opinion. I merely shrugged my shoulders and gave a vague answer when it was brought up. In reality, I didn’t want him to become a part of our weird little group. That meant he would see me, that he would notice me and know my name, and I’d rather be able to keep my perving quiet. If he became aware of who I am, I certainly wouldn’t get away with my staring and daydreaming. He would become another person I had to change myself for, another person I would have to hide the truth from. The depth of my depression and self-loathing is something I want to keep to myself. I may be moody, but I'm not going to whine about my problems. It’s not like anybody could do anything about it anyway, and having everybody breathe done my neck even more would only drive me further into despair.

Of course, Frank has to go and do the one thing I don’t want him to. I'm sitting at the table, watching Alicia ‘help’ Ray, who is completely perplexed at how a girl two years his junior is able to figure out the maths problem he struggles with. He hasn’t figured out Alicia’s penchant for reading the answers at the back of the book. Every couple of days, he would find himself asking Alicia for help, thinking she's some sort of maths whizz, even though I know for a fact she's only scraping C’s, and the occasional B, in the subject. I almost feel bad for him, and part of me wants to tell him to stop the pathetic-ness, but then when I think about it, I realise it is one of the few things I find funny to watch anymore. So, I let it continue, and try my best not to laugh whenever I see Alicia explaining the problem to him, as though he were a child. I'm in the middle of trying not to laugh when Frank and Bob finally show up, with Hot Guy, I mean Andy, in tow. I try not to frown when I see him, completely confused as to why he's currentlystanding at our table.

“Hey, guys!This is our new homie, Andy!”

“You’re not from the ghetto, Frankie. Stop trying!” Mikey smirks, finally prying his eyes away from Alicia.

Frank scowls, but says nothing else as Bob introduces everybody. He leaves me for last, and it’s hard for me not to squirm under Andy’s scrutinising look.

“What's up,” he nods his head, before taking the seat opposite me.

I don’t offer much in the way of conversation while Andy is there. I’m aware of the fact that every once in a while his eyes glance over to me, which is quite disconcerting and an equal mix of pleasurable and unpleasurable. There is a small part of me that wants to him to notice me, because I’m only a human being. Of course I want the person I find attractive to find me interesting, to want me, to daydream about me locked in the janitor’s closet with him, like I dream about him. That’s only a small part of me, though. The bigger, more persuasive part of my brain just wants to hide, and I have to fight the urge to walk away like the hermit I want to be. I can’t remain silent, though, when I’m met with the disturbing sight of my little brother shoving his tongue down Alicia’s throat.

“Don’t be gross, Mikes!” I say with disgust, calling him by the one nickname he hates.

I smirk when he retaliates by flipping me the bird, without so much as looking in my direction. He doesn’t even break the kiss, to my revulsion. In a way, I’m jealous of him. I might be gay, but I appreciate attractiveness, and Alicia certainly falls into that category. They’re young, in lust, and completely openly infatuated with each other. Mikey has what I want, and when I look at him holding hands with Alicia, making out with her and talking to mam and dad about how wonderful she is whenever they’re around, I feel the jealousy gnaw at my chest, reminding me that I will never have that. Even if I were to meet a guy, I would never be able to tell my parents.

Jamia eventually comes to our table too, sitting beside Frank and holding hands and being all cute and affectionate. I try my best not to focus on them, or Mikey and Alicia. I focus on Ray’s and Bob’s conversation, and offer a few words and a smile every now and again to look as though I’m paying attention. Jamia and Frank entertain Andy, telling him the latest gossip and making him feel included. I see how he smiles at the inclusion, and it makes my heart race from how adorable it is. I can’t help the smile that pulls at the corner of my lips, and when he looks my way, I flush slightly, embarrassed I was caught looking at him.

He ends up following me to our next class, unaware of how awkward I feel about being alone with him, even in the crowded hallway. It draws attention to me, something I’m not used to, and I just want to shrink away and hide from everybody’s gaze. I’m not a rude person, though, so I don’t walk on ahead, like I desperately want to. It’s only now, for the first time, that I notice his rainbow badge. Is he…he can’t be, surely? I’m going over the possibility in my head, torn between not wanting to be rude, and wanting to know, when Andy breaks the silence.

“So, you’re quiet,” Andy says, walking in step with me and seemingly ignorant of the stares we get.

“I’m not much of a talker,” I reply, flushing when I realise just how stupid I sound.

“We have a few classes together, right?”

“Uh, yeah…biology, Spanish and English.”

“Is Mr. Jacobs always such a dick?” He asks, referring to our English teacher.

“Pretty much. Just hand up your assignments and he’ll leave you alone for the most part, though. He’s not all bad, I suppose; he caught me smoking once, and he didn’t report me.”

Andy’s eyes light up.

“You smoke?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too, haven’t had one for days, though, since my last pack ran out. I don’t know where to go to avoid being carded, and there’s no way my mom would buy them for me.”

I feel bad for him. I get pretty bad withdrawals if I go one day without a cigarette. I debate whether I should give up one of my precious cigarettes, before I let my nice side win. I search around for any signs of a teacher, before pulling my packet out and handing him one.

“Thanks, dude,” he says, sounding genuinely thankful, and I fight the blush that wants to cover my cheeks when he smiles at me.

“No problem.”

We reach the classroom, and to my delight, and horror, he sits beside me, essentially preventing me from staring at him to my heart’s content. Mr Jacob comes in, and Andy promptly begins writing in his notebook. I keep my head forward, not risking the chance of getting caught looking at him, but it doesn’t stop me from falling into another one of my daydreams while Mr Jacobs drones on about our latest assignment.