Goodbye, My Almost Lover

Chapter 1. Hello, Goodbye

"… I-I-I'm coming!" I shouted at him.

Well, tried to shout. When I shout, it comes out like I'm frustrated at myself, not others.

And I am, half of the time. It's like I can hardly get a word out of my mouth.

I blow dried my hair and walked down the steps. I took out my pad of paper and pen.

I wrote : What's for breakfast?

"Chocolate chip pancakes." Then he set a plate in front of me.

I smiled at my brother and wrote : You remembered.

"Your favorite food? Of course. I thought I'd give you a little boost for your first day."

I wrote : It's your first day, too. Where's your uniform?

"I thought I'd get ready in the nick of time. What'd'ya think?"

I shook my head, smiling only slightly.

He sighed heavily. "Fine. I'll go change. Just wanted to make a good breakfast for you. Gosh…"

I laughed as he walked past me and I nudged him to move faster.

I shoved the breakfast down my throat quickly, noticing the time.

I opened up my mouth to yell, but it didn't come out. After I pushed my voice to speak, it came out a high-pitched scream. "… Embry!"

I heard a shout from upstairs. "All right! I'm on my way down!"

I gave him a look on his attire and made a move to fix his tie. He shoved my hand away and fixed it up himself.

We walked out to my red BMW. A gift for my 16th birthday, a year back.

I don't really like it. Too much like… I'm trying to fit in.

I know and they know that I'll never fit in. I'll always be made fun of. I have absolutely no chance with the popular crowd.

Dad gets mad sometimes. He says that he doesn't see what the big problem is. He was the 'big guy on campus' when he was my age. Why can't I be?

I don't know. Maybe because I have a stutter the size of the sun? And that I can hardly talk to him, much rather a room full of thirty people?

I just keep quiet though, and told Embry to not make an argument. There's no one to make him stop. I certainly can't shut him up.

And why bother?

He just can't handle that his little girl will never gain friends.

That's all there is to it.

I muttered under my breath. "They're p-probably going to… make fun of m-me this year, too."

He sighed and grabbed my hand, sympathetically. "I'll ward 'em off. Just like I did last year."

I smiled, remembering. "T-they didn't think y-you were a freshm-man," I told him.

"Just imagine what they'd think of this sophomore now," he said, pointing to himself and then grabbing his bicep. "I've been working out all summer!"

We laughed.

As we entered the school parking lot, I had a pretty easy time finding a space to put my car. There was a spot three rows back and it was near the entrance. Also, easy exit after the final bell rang.

But when I tried to park there, a car came out of nowhere and slid into it.

A girl stood on the passenger seat, making it easier to talk to me.

"Hey! The handicapped spots are over there," she said, pointing to the spaces with blue paint on them.

I clenched my jaw.

I saw Embry make a move, but I held him back. "T-this is not your b-business, Embry."

I didn't take my eyes off her.

I was not handicapped, I wanted to say.

But my throat closed in and when I tried to get it out, I knew I looked like an idiot.

They all laughed.

The popular kids. Oh, yeah. I could hang out with them at lunch.

Maybe in my former life.

I drove around again, and waited for them to leave to park next to their car.

I memorized their license plate so I could avoid other situations. TJD2003 then it had a sign of some sort.

I knew what that sign meant.

He was one of the privileged few that could park his car pretty much wherever he wanted and the law-enforcers would look the other way.

Lucky bastards.

As I walk into the school, I took a deep breath. Anxiety.

"You're going to be fine. Maybe this year isn't going to be the same," he tried to cheer me up, before going off by himself to find his own classes and friends.

On the contrary, this year was not going to be much different. I was going to be made fun of again. I was still going to sit by myself all of the time. I was going to be put on the spot by teachers.

That's the funny thing about professors. They know I can't talk very well. They know. But still, they don't take my answer written down on paper. They want to hear it out loud. That's the most embarrassing moments of the day. That also gives other people the chance to probe and see for themselves that I can't get a word out before clenching my throat and stammering.

I ran into someone.

I made a little noise on impact.

It was TJD. Great.

"S-s-sorry," I got out. "I-I wasn't l-looking."

He nodded, probably too intrigued with my 'disability.'

"No problem," he answered.

All I wanted to do was hide my face and get away.

But he grabbed my arm as I tried to walk past.

"What's your name?"

I looked up in his eyes. I knew better than to answer. He just wanted to hear me.

But I did anyway.

My throat clenched, but I managed to get it out. "… R-rory."

"Tristan," he introduced himself.

"I-I know who y-you are." I meant to sound harsher, but it didn't come out that way.

I bowed my head in embarrassment of how I couldn't say a sentence without breaking up.

"I'm sorry about Katy. She can be a little mean."

I nodded. "I-I'm not h-handicapped."

"I know."

I looked in his eyes again. Why was he being so nice to me?

"What's your first class?"

I handed him my schedule.

"I have first, second, fourth, and sixth with you."

"… Awesome." I knew that came out like I wanted it to.

"See you later, then."

And he walked away.

My eyes followed him to his friends. I saw the girl from the car, Katy, point to me. Then everybody laughed. Tristan did, too.

I get this all the time, I guess. People using me for my sick jokes.

But it still hurt.

I walked around, creating routes to all my classes.

When the bell rang, I entered my first class and I took a seat third row back, by the window.

People walk in and take their seats. I saw him strut in like he owned the place.

He did, of course. He manipulated everything to be in his favor.

I knew his kind.

He was King of the school's social hierarchy.

He sat right behind me.

He nodded a hello.

Jerk.

When the second bell rang, the teacher started talking about the rules of the classroom.

I tuned her out. Who needs to hear the same speech six times on the first day, for twelve years?

No one, that's who.

Right then, a folded piece of paper slid over my shoulder and fell to my lap.

I opened it.

Boring, isn't it?

I rolled my eyes.

I wrote : How do you know I'm not listening?

I tossed it back and in no time, it was over my shoulder again.

Tristan DuGrey knows everything.

Well, then you know that I don't really want to talk to you.

Why's that?

I sighed audibly. I thought you knew everything.

Enlighten me.

I didn't know what to tell him.

But lucky for me, the bell rang right when I was in the middle of debating with myself.

Unfortunately, he blocked my path as I tried to get out of the room.

My throat closed up as I tried to speak, "… C-c-can you… move?" I bowed my head in embarrassment and closed my eyes.

"You didn't answer me."

"… Y-y-y," I took a deep breath, trying so hard, "You're de-deductive skills are imp-pecable. S-summer had no… toll on you, d-d-did it?"

"What's with the hostility?"

He actually caught it. Impressive, considering the millions of pauses and breaks.

I took another breath. "I have… f-feelings, Tristan," I spat.

Then I shoved the note we had written in his chest.

"Your f-friends'll have a… kick out of that. M-maybe they can… talk about how my p-p-penmanship sucks, too. T-then, you'll… joke about h-how I have no c-communication."

He looked at me questioningly, and then said, "I didn't think you heard."

"It s-shouldn't have… m-m-mattered if I did or not."

Then I walked around him and to my next class.

Unfortunately, he followed.

"Let me hold your books," he shouted behind me, trying to run up to my speed.

"… No, thank you."

"I'm going to catch up to you when we get to Johnson's class. You might as well talk to me now."

Damn it. We had second period together.

I gathered my hair and put it to one shoulder.

I didn't slow down, but he soon was in step with me.

"Planning to join the track team?"

I stayed quiet.

Partly because I had nothing to say, and partly because I didn't want him to hear my imperfection any more.

"Look, all I wanted to say was that I was sorry. It's just what they do… belittle people," he elaborated.

I turned around suddenly, facing him. "You mean… it-it's what you d-do."

He bowed his head.

I just walked away.

The bell was about to ring, I knew it.

When I got there, the only two seats left were no where near each other.

I praised any higher power(s) looking out for me.

I sat down next to a boy I've only saw in the hall.

We exchanged greetings.

I saw his face when he walked in.

Then he walked up to Brian, my table partner, and whispered into his ear.

I saw Brian nod, pick up his stuff and leave.

"W-what did you d-do?" I asked him.

He sat down to the now-empty seat next to me.

"Arranged something."

The bell rang and the teacher started talking.

The exact same rules. The same syllabus. I actually listened for most of it, because people have said that AP Chemistry II with Johnson is really difficult.

Toward the end of the class, I, again, received a note. But it was in a notebook, and he just slid it over to me this time.

I know you have feelings.

I pushed it back to him, rolling my eyes.

He was put off by my lack of answer.

I do.

I turned towards him and raised my eyebrow, unconvinced.

He pulled the notebook back and wrote a little more down then passed it my way again.

I get it. You've had it forever. It's not your fault, you've had it since birth.

My blood boiled as the bell rang.

I started packing up my things with rage.

"Hold your horses," he asked.

I didn't.

"What's wrong?"

I looked him right in the eye, but my throat clenched again. "… Don't you… e-ever think that y-you know my l-life story. You d-don't… know me. Don't p-pretend to."

I watched as he stepped back, stunned at my words.

All throughout third period, I was fuming.

Who did he think he was?

He thinks he knows everything about everybody.

Well, I hope he learned his lesson.

When fourth period came along, I remembered I had it with him.

Fortunately, I had it with my brother as well. He was always better at math than I was.

I was joking with Embry while Tristan walked in.

The same trudge, the same smirk.

"Ugh," I moaned to Embry.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Him," I whispered. "H-he's such a j-jerk."

"Tristan?"

I nodded.

"He's in my digital photography class. Has a lot of cool shit."

"Of c-course he does. He's f-filthy rich."

Tristan locked eyes with me then walked over.

"Would you mind sitting somewhere else, man?" he asked my brother.

"What?" Embry replied, furrowing his eyebrows and cocking his head.

"Move," he ordered.

I gave Embry a wide-eyed look.

"What do you want with my sister?"

Tristan took a step back.

"Sister?" he asked.

Embry stood and extended his hand. "Embry Hayden. Rory's brother."

Tristan took it. "It's funny. She never said anything about having a brother."

"Well, then it'd take away moments like this, don't you think?"

I saw Tristan's jaw clench. "Right. See ya."

He waved at me. I waved back.

Thank you so much! I wrote to Embry.

"No problem," he whispered, as the teacher came up.

When class was over, I walked out of the classroom chatting and laughing with my brother.

"You can sit with us, if you want," he offered. He had a table with him and some of his friends.

I shook my head. "But… t-thanks."

He nodded and patted my arm, "Take care and don't take crap."

I smiled and kept walking straight as he turned right, to the lunch center.

As I got to my locker, I noticed a couple already taking my spot.

"E-excuse me." I tried.

They were still kissing.

I tapped the boys arm. He turned around to me.

"What the – " he started.

"C-could you p-please move a little? My… l-locker…" My thought was clenched and it was really hard to talk.

"Screw you," the girl said, and went back to snogging her boy.

"Kyle, man!" I heard and the boy in front of me stopped making out and shook the guy's hand.

It was Tristan.

I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, could I get past you?" Tristan asked him.

"No problem," Kyle said and patted Tristan's back as he walked around me, his slut in toe.

"You d-didn't need t-t-to do… that," I told him, getting my locker open.

"And what would you have done if I didn't?"

I shrugged my shoulders, unpacking my books and taking out others. "Probably waited t-till after l-lunch."

"And isn't this better?"

I paused, turning and looking at him. "W-why are you b-being so nice to m-me?" I scrunched my eyebrows and narrowed my eyes.

He looked down and shuffled his feet.

"The K-king of Chilton squirm-ming?" I teased.

"I don't know, Rory. I guess I feel bad for the way my crowd treats you."

"And you ch-choose now, s-seven years down the l-line, to fix it?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess."

"Well, th-thanks, but no thanks. I-I'm fine."

"Look, I thought I was doing you a favor. Forgive me," he said, putting his hands up as if for defense and started walking away.

Suddenly, I felt horrible for the way I had treated him.

"… Wait, Tristan!" I shouted. It came out high-pitched, but I didn't stutter.

He turned around with his eyebrows raised, then walked back to me.

"I-I'm just used to b-being… used for jokes and s-s-stuff. I'm… sorry."

He nodded. "Well, I can assure you that I'm not going to be making fun of you."

I smiled slightly at him.

"Hey," he started as he grabbed my arm, "you want to eat lunch together?"

"Tristan!" I heard someone scream at the end of the hall. He looked up. "You coming?!" they yelled.

I sighed. "It s-seems like your… fan club is waiting for you."

His eyes apologized. I nodded understandingly and he walked off.

I spent lunch by myself, reading under a tree.

Fifth period was the same as any other and was over after an hour.

Unfortunately, sixth period was totally on the other end of campus, and by the time I got there, there was only one seat left.

By Tristan.

He does it on purpose, I bet.

How DO you get the seat right next to me every time? I wrote to him when I sat down.

Psychic.

Why, of course! Why didn't I think of that?

He laughed and we listened to the teacher.

A/N: Okay, I tried to do the absolute best that I could. I hope you guys liked it! When I think of stuttering, I think of that guy in Pearl Harbor. If you have him in your head, you'll understand what Rory sounds like. I don't think I'll update this story as often as I did A Lack of Color because it took me like, a week to finish this first chapter. I hope you guys don't think they're too OOC. Even if they are, it's my story, right? I got this story idea off a forum topic by Dreamer Literati. I had to tweak it a lot to make it my own and turn it into a Trory. Hope you liked it! Review, please! Then I'll know if it's worth finishing.