Author's Note:
I'm afraid I am not a natural writer. That said, there may be spelling mistakes and/or grammatical mistakes.
Please enjoy Misfits and remember to comment!
"God, talking to you is like pulling teeth sometimes."
"Well, ow."
My name is Sam Finch, the town's resident hermit. I could socialize, if I liked people. I'm actually quite charming most days. Sometimes. Not really.
Let's be honest: I'm socially deficient. I liked people. A lot. They just didn't like me.
For good reason, I suppose.
My foot exists in my mouth. Everything that comes of it out is wrong. Too blunt, too cold, too monotone- no matter what I say, it pisses someone off. Many black eyes and hard stares later, I've learned to keep my mouth shut and my eyes low.
"Good," Jenna, my best friend, grins, "it looks like they did install emotional sensitivity into your microchip."
Emotional sensitivity microchip? Bah, I wish. I'm about as sensitive as that wooden post over there.
Anyway, if my memory wasn't chalked, perhaps I could tell you how Jenna and I met. It just so happens that I don't really know myself, and Jenna, thinking it's hilarious that I've forgotten, refuses to tell me.
All I know is that we've been best friends ever since.
"It helps me blend in better with the humans." I drawl, watching her blonde hair fan around her as she ascends the steps of the Philadelphia Psychiatric Hospital.
God, I hated this place. It might've been the blank white walls, the sickeningly sterile smell, or knowing that one day, I'd probably be cozied up in here myself. The people were pleasant enough though; if they were coherent, they often had the craziest stories to tell.
Jenna's mother lived here, too.
I'm not too keen on the details- I never asked, Jenna didn't tell- but apparently, Ms. Abraham has always been a 'little off her rocker'. Shadows dancing across her walls, snakes slithering on her bedroom floor- you name it. I liked her though; we were just two crazies trying to survive in a world not of their own.
She understood.
Entering through the rotating doors, we didn't even have to sit down before Jenna's natural radiance caught a familiar intern's eye. He immediately received us, leading us into the elevator and punching in Ms. Abraham's room number. He's been escorting us for the past two years- might even attend our school- and I still hadn't caught his name. I stole a glance at his nametag and made a mental note to remember it was John Flores.
I'd forget in an hour, though.
"-glad you came. She's been asking for you," 'John' had been saying when I tuned back in. He turned his emerald gaze to me and I visibly shrunk against the wall, "and you as well, Sam."
I don't even have a nametag and he remembered my name. Take notes. This is how you make someone feel like a horrible person.
Oh, he's still looking. Did he expect a reply?
"Uh, yeah." Did that even answer anything?
The elevator took that opportune moment to open its doors and we filtered into the hallway. From our frequent visits, we knew the way, but John took the lead as always. I never noticed how he always escorted us to Mrs. Abraham's room.
Jenna and I fell behind naturally. I was a slow walker and she kept pace, creating a large gap between us and our long-legged guide.
"What was that back there, huh?"
I glanced at Jenna, raising a brow at her. "It depends, what is 'that'?"
If we were going to be getting anywhere with this, she'd have to be more specific. In all my social handicapped-ness, I had missed something important and couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what.
"How could you miss it? John totally singled you out in the elevator!" Her manicured fingers trailed suggestively up my caramel-colored arm, "You should give him a lesson in 'cultural diversity'."
"You're delusional," I whispered, shaking my head, "He talked to you too."
Guys didn't like girls like me, especially with Jenna around. She was absolutely perfect; a stunning blue-eyed blonde with petite features and a smile to die for. Her grades were on point, manners in check, and aside from the occasional bad day, completely manageable.
She cooked, she cleaned- hell, if she started singing and attracting animals, I'd be convinced she was a Disney princess.
I was her shadow, but I didn't mind.
"Yeah, I had a lovely conversation with his back." She snorted, "Hey, look."
I followed her gaze to John, where he waited patiently by Ms. Abraham's door. His eyes followed my body, trailing to my face as I approached.
To say I was discomforted by his piercing stare would be the biggest understatement of the year. I was absolutely terrified; a boy had never been interested in me before, so quickened my pace, eager to disappear into Room 434.
Jenna beat me to the door, blocking the entrance with her body.
Looking sweetly at me and flitting her eyes toward John, she asked, "Sam, do you mind if I talk to my mom alone? It's very serious."
Not even I could be oblivious as to what she was hinting at. The only thing that could make the message clearer is if she spelled it out to me. "I bet it is." I glared at her, mentally trying to push the thoughts of me maiming her into itty-bitty pieces onto her.
Her 1000-watt smile grows brighter, telling me that my dark thoughts had been received. Facing toward John, she bats her lashes at him, "Can you wait with her? The fourth floor can get a little hectic."
If my looks could kill, she'd be dead.
Well that, and I'd be a kickass super villain.
"I'd be honored." John replies, a grin stretched across his freckled face.
"Thanks, love!" The door closes all too quickly, the audible click of a lock verifying my fears. I was stuck out here… with him.
For most people, my situation doesn't soundlike a horror story, but it is. You see, John is attractive, and while I may not have known his name, I knew what he looked like.
One word: adorable.
If it wasn't his curly brown hair or freckles that caught you, it was his eyes. Bright green and swimming with boyish mischief, even I, with a memory as flimsy as paper, could recall them with my eyes closed.
That's why I was scared.
We waited in silence for the first few minutes, the door to Ms. Abraham's room not opening once. No doubt, Jenna on the other side with her ear pressed to it. She wouldn't be letting me in until I either had a date, or had totally embarrassed myself. What a great friend.
I was just about to open my mouth when John spoke up, "I, uh, like your glasses."
"Er, thanks," I replied awkwardly, twiddling my fingers together. It was a nervous habit- definitely something I'd picked up whenever I tried communicating with strangers. "Are you, um, trying to 'get in my pants'?"
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
John lit up like a match, a pink blush spreading from ear-to ear across his face immediately. "W-What?!" He choked out disbelievingly.
Great, Sam. Blunt as ever. Smacking a hand to my face, I tried again, "Fuck. No, I, er, didn't mean that. Do you like me?"
This was going swimmingly.
There was a pregnant pause and I could feel the heat dancing under my face, probably resembling a tomato by now. Suddenly, John laughed loudly, throwing his head back and attracting a lot of stares. At first, I thought he was laughing at me- I never was great at explaining myself, so maybe I had said something weird again.
"I've only been trying to get your attention for like, half a year!"
Wait... What? Six months!?
He continued talking as I stared, my jaw on the floor, gaping like a fish. "But you're always so quiet. When you gave me the cold shoulder in the elevator, I wasn't sure if I'd ever have a chance."
Cold shoulder? Why was I so unaware of these things!?
"Anyway, I'm so glad you feel the same way. Are you… are you busy tomorrow?"
Was I busy? Did I have work? I could hardly remember over the beating of my heart and the fact that I was already speaking.
"N-No, I'm not busy at all..." I barely recognized my voice as it trickled out, barely a whisper.
"Great," the intern cheered, "I'll pick you up tomorrow at one!"
And that's how the socially inept get dates.
I don't remember much of the evening after that.
I was still riled up over the whole date thing to fully register what happened during my time with Ms. Abraham. I barely knew the guy's name, and here I was, receiving awkward confessions in psychiatric hospitals.
From what I do remember, Ms. Abraham, though she had given me a present four months ago in March for my 16th birthday, insisted she had forgotten to give me one. I blamed it on her nuttiness and needless to say, ended up receiving a 'very late' and unneeded gift. She called them, 'Wishing Stones', and told me that they fulfilled the owner's unconscious wishes.
It was total bull, of course, but I didn't have the heart to tell her that, considering how excited she was to give them to me.
Jenna, of course, couldn't shut up about my first date. Even after the 30 minute bus ride back to her house, she was still excitedly bubbling on and on about it. I just wanted to wake up and find out I'd been dreaming… or having a nightmare. It was really a toss up.
"Wow, he waited six months! That's so romantic!" Jenna was gushing, already looking through her closet for the perfect outfit for me to wear on my date tomorrow.
Romantic was not the word that came to mind when I reviewed the conversation, more like, extremely uncomfortable, awkward, and unpleasant. But I kept my mouth shut. Jenna wouldn't appreciate me looking a gift horse in the mouth.
"How's this?"
She held up an admittedly cute summer dress, perfect for the heat tomorrow. It was a lovely peach color, tight at the top and fanning out at the bottom. Modest too, stopping right before the knees.
"Its perfect."
Jenna was excellent at understanding what people wanted. She was so good, in fact, that I sometimes wondered if she was the reason my social skills lacked, like she absorbed them for herself or something. The idea was silly, of course, but she was always on point when it came to people. It seemed really helpful when she was seducing men- give her two days and they would be eating out of her palm.
I wish I could do that. "Can we stop talking about this date. I'm tired."
"Fine, fine! I'm going to get ready for bed." The blonde waved her hand dismissively, disappearing into the bathroom.
Honestly, I was debating faking sick. If I showed up or not, either way, this date was going to be a total flop. I wouldn't be telling her that though.
She wouldn't understand. Nobody ever does.
My emotional sensitivity microchip was missing, and while I ached for a proper relationship with someone, I was too defective for it to ever work out past the preliminary stages. John, if we ever ended up dating exclusively, would need constant verbal and emotional validation that I cared for him. I wasn't emotionally ready for a relationship.
I just wish I could fit in.
I decided that if I were going to be throwing a pity party for myself, I would open my presents as well. You can't have a party without presents, and while I only had one, the gift that Ms. Abraham gave me earlier, it would be enough.
Lifting up the silver top off the box and tearing away at the colored paper, I was actually surprised to find earrings inside. The were long and dangly, a shiny red stone swung from the base of each one.
Magical, no, but beautiful, most definitely.
Wasting no time, I undid my current earrings- simple studs- and slipped these new ones in. They were perfect, accentuating my short, choppy haircut.
"Cute!" Jenna chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom, immediately coming over to toy with my new accessories. "Now hurry up and put your other earrings back in, your tired was contagious and now I've caught it."
I laid back on the bed, stretching out all my muscles before closing my eyes and curling in on my side, mumbling, "Not just yet."
The blonde spared me a strange look, opening her mouth like she wanted to say something, but clapped her hands together instead without a word. The lights snapped off, and in the darkness, I fingered my new earrings with the pad of my thumb.
They were very long, so it did feel kind of weird to wearing them to bed, but at the same time, I didn't want to take them off just yet. I felt good wearing them. I felt like change was going to happen soon, be it a result of my upcoming date or something else entirely. Change for the better.
"One night won't hurt."
Author's Note:
Ah, yeah! First chapter over and done with! Sorry for the lack of Akatsuki, but they'll be in the next chapter, so no worries! Don't forget to favorite and comment if you liked it!