Not Good Enough for Truth in Cliche

I open one eye again and look in the mirror to see Alan still watching me. My nose is still bleeding, pretty badly, and I swear I see a flash of concern pass through his eyes. I must’ve been imagining it, though. I turn my attention back to the mirror to try and stop my nose bleeding, and both he and Maddie disappear again around the corner. I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear the door open, relaxing a little, before Alan decides to saunter back out into the main part of the bathroom.

“You alright, Carlile?” he asks, coming to sit on the counter next to me. I scoot to the side a bit, keeping my distance. He notices and smirks a bit, scooting after me.

I turn my eyes back to the mirror and ignore him for a moment, before he repeats himself. I debate on being sarcastic, but decide again and just sigh heavily. “I’m fine,” I reply bitterly, earning a chuckle from him.

“Why so bitter? I’m just bein’ nice,” he responds, and I roll my eyes, ignoring him again. I use up the one towel I have and back into the stall to get more, a small trickle of blood still coming from my nose. “Does that happen a lot?” I hear Alan’s voice ask from behind me, and I jump when I realize he’s literally right behind me. I look back and him with a raised eyebrow. “Nose bleeds,” he explains.

I shrug. “Only if something triggers it. Like, ya know, getting pushed face first into a locker,” I say, my voice heavy with sarcasm, moving around him to go back to the sink and finish cleaning. “But yes, it does, I suppose,” I add after a moment of silence between us. I pinch my nose again and keep the tissue there, sighing heavily. I hear a small ‘oh’ from him, and I sigh again, a bit heavier this time.

“I’m sorry about that, it must suck,” he says awkwardly, and I look at him through the mirror with a small scowl on my lips.

“Why do you care? You don’t have to deal with this shit every day,” I snap, the blood finally coming to a stop. I take the tissue away and wet the end to clean the little bit of dried blood from my upper lip, not looking over at Alan.

He was silent, and I assume it was because he wasn’t expecting that reaction for me for presumably trying to be nice. “I, uh,” he stutters out, before growing quiet. I glance back at him through the mirror, raising an eyebrow when I see him looking at the ground. I ignore it and look back down at the sink, the silence falling between us becoming insanely awkward. I clear my throat and step towards the door, grabbing my bag and glancing up at him for a moment. I don’t say a word before leaving, my heart beating out of my chest. I just had a one-on-one moment with Alan Ashby and I didn’t completely embarrass myself, except I probably did, with how rude I was being. Well, I wasn’t going to be nice to him, not when he wasn’t nice to me.

I head to class, knowing I’m a few minute late, or I’m going to be if I don’t hurry. Luckily, I have freakishly long legs, which allow me to sprint down the hall, skidding to my classroom right before the bell rang. The teacher was facing away, so I slip in and slide in my seat in the middle of the first row of seats, unnoticed by the teacher. I’m breathing heavily, but I quickly slow it down so it wasn’t suspicious.

Neither of my friends were in this class, and it was usually the worst because the teacher never let us listen to music, so I had to take the constant, whispered torture of all the people around me. Today, I decide to rebel and I take out my headphones, plugging them in my ears and pulling out my phone, scrolling through my music until I get to a song I want to listen to, then I sink in my seat and keep my eyes on the teacher as she writes on the whiteboard.

The kid behind me, since he can’t get my attention by whispering, starts flicking the back of my head. I grunt softly and ignore him for a few minutes, before he yanks out my headphone and forces me to turn around. “What do you want?!” I hiss at him, my eyes narrow in a glare. He sneers and sits back in his seat. I just groan and turn back around, putting my headphone in, but as soon as I relax again, he starts flicking. My temper was on edge today, but it was only first period. I had to last at least until lunch, and then I could do something about it. My stomach drops at the thought of what I could do, and I turn my eyes to my desk, a small frown playing my lips. The kid stops flicking again when I assume the teacher yells at him. I’m not sure, because my phone had decided to start playing a bunch of sad songs that I had on there for one of my moods, and it was slowly starting to become that.

I hear the bell ring and I slowly rise from my seat, after everyone else had left the classroom. I grab my bag and wander out of the classroom, sighing softly. I ignore the teacher, who was most likely calling for me, because I was wearing my headphones during class. I head into second period silently, taking my seat near Caleb and immediately sinking in my seat and ignoring his questions. Eventually, he gave up, when he saw I wasn’t going to reply to him at all.