The symptoms of loneliness
Hi, I'm Hatake Naruto, and I'm 13 years old and about to become a freshman at Courage High School. Pretty lame, I know. The name I mean. Well, it sounds better than Sounds High School, right? Right? Yeah, well anyways, today's my first day, I'm still in bed, and I'm freaking out. I don't want to get canned by upperclassmen. Or my brother. And why the hell did school have to start earlier than everywhere else? I mean, my district starts in fucking August 20th and everyone else's starts on August 27th or September 3rd. fuck me.
"Hey loser, get up. We're going to school," my brother Kakashi said. Yeah, my older, half brother who's in his junior year and running back for our school team, the Courage High Wildfires. Oh, and he can run a 10.7 on the 100 meter dash.
Our mascot… well… it's not like we set someone on fire, we just haven't been creative about it, so everyone at school just gets out a lighter and does the Atlanta Braves chant…
Oh yeah, and my school's ranked like… 3rd in the state for… what was it… athletic achievement and academic standards or something… but anyways…
I got out of bed and quickly took a shower and brushed my teeth. Gel or no gel? Or that hair wax stuff Kakashi puts on his hair? Hm… wax stuff. Wow, this stuff actually kinda works! So, semi-spiky hair somewhat like Kakashi's, just he has his draped over one eye. Just wish I had an earring or two to go with my hair. That would be so sick!!
I ran back to my room and pulled on whatever clothes I could find. Low-rise jeans and a tight black t-shirt and looked around for a pair of shoes. Shit. Nowhere in sight. Ah well, next best thing is flip-flops, and it's the first day of school, who gives a shit, right?
I grabbed my white and black Volcom backpack and walked down the stairs to where Kakashi was already finishing his toast. As soon as I sat down, he stood up and walked to the door. Bastard. Well, not really, considering we're both of the same father and all… Even though dad favors him more. Not that I really care though, I mean, he pays for everything and keeps me in the house, and doesn't have a whole lot of fights, so you know, no real reason to be angry. I'm not angry. Seriously.
"We're leaving," he said in his all-too-lazy voice. Fucking prick. I picked up my orange juice and chugged it quickly before following him out of the house. I couldn't bring my toast because he doesn't want his precious Beamer to get dirty. Yeah, he's got a BMW. So what? And yes, it's a current model. Shut up. It's a 335xi, in black with a cream and mahogany interior. Performance upgraded to 400 hp. In-dash nagivation unit, with Bose 7 speaker system, and alloy rims. Yes okay, it's a nice car.
He makes me sit in the back since we're going to pick up some of his friends on the way. First is Sarutobi Asuma, whose dad took his car keys because he came home drunk at 3 in the morning. He's one of those guys that looks like he can snap you in half and then snap your halves in halves, but once you talk to him, he's a pretty cool guy. Unless if you're at the receiving end of one of his tackles. Oh, did I mention he's one of the linebackers for the varsity football team? Oh, and that he's the Principal's son? Yeah, these things slip my mind a lot.
Then we go pick up Asuma's girlfriend, Yuuhi Kurenai, who's a sophomore. Damn sexy if I do say so myself. I mean, she's like one of the girls that, when she walks into a convenience store, the soft music just starts playing, no matter what and everyone just seems to freeze while she walks by. Trust me, I know.
One time, when she was hanging out at home, she wanted to go get a magazine to read while everyone else watched the football game on TV, but no one else wanted to go, so she dragged me, and as soon as we walked in, the music started playing, and everything. It was like one of those once in a lifetime coincidences… for the sad fucks who looked at her when she walked in [it's actually happened more than once, but this appeared to be the first. She's in the back seat with me, wearing these tight Juicy Couture sweatpants and I swear, the temperature shot up another 10 degrees. Just gotta hope and pray that the rest of the girls at school are like her.
We arrived at the school's student parking lot with almost 10 minutes to spare. We all got out of Kakashi's car and followed his lead.
"Hey!! Hatake!!" someone yelled from behind us in the quad. Tenzou Yamato, wide receiver for varsity, ran up to us.
"Coach Jiraiya's gonna have some sort of preliminary meeting before the season starts; he wants to get the newbie freshman on track if they want to get onto JV. It's at the locker rooms at lunch."
I perked up at that. Aside from the artwork that I did in my [designated time, I had been training in all my free time all of junior high in hopes of making JV and then Varsity and to hopefully measure up to where Kakashi was now, or possibly be even better than he was and garner the attention of my parents— my father, who was more focused on my brother, and my mother, who had left to the southern part of the state with my younger sister, and all the girls that fit into Juicy pants as well as Kurenai did.
Kakashi did his usual bored nod, almost as if he barely registered what Tenzou was saying.
I abandoned them for my first class: Chemistry… great… with someone named Hsu. As I walked down the hallway towards my class, I took into scope the… how should I put it… attractiveness rate of the girls I passed by? I mean, you had a few lookers that you just had to give the slightly rude up-down, you had the [wide majority girls that had something attractive about them but just weren't hot, and then you had the… not so attractive ones that could pass if they bothered to straighten their hair or something. Maybe get that oil control lotion. Acne is not a sin, but not preventing it can be.
I saw people from my junior high pass by, people that I should have been friends with, but just never found the opportunity to deepen a relationship with any of them. I saw Inuzuka Kiba trying to talk it up with Aburame Shino, something he had been attempting since the 6th grade. I swear, if Kiba hadn't been caught with those porno magazines last year, I would've held the solid belief that he was into Shino. Shino on the other hand, was kind of like me, but less… volatile.
Where he was known for using words to shut other people up, I was known for using anything in my reach. Words came first, then my fists, feet if need be, and then whatever weapon made its way into my hands. I got suspended for decking some kid with a spiral bound notebook in 7th grade. But really, the only reason why I got suspended was cause the metal binding scraped the boys' cheek!! If he hadn't rushed up to me after I called him a pussy, he wouldn't even have those scars!!! Fucking pussy.
I finally made it into my classroom where this tiny, sunken looking Chinese woman was directing seating arrangements with the overhead projector and a FOB voice. Oh, wonderful— a great start to the year. Open ridicule of the teacher for not being able to understand her. It wasn't me that was going to ridicule her, but just some of the more stupid and brash students in my year that had no sense of self-restraint or patience or any of that moral code shit.
I took my seat at the far right corner of the classroom and as soon as I sat down, my stomach let off a low grumble. Fuck you Kakashi. Fuck you. I put my head down on the table in hopes that the bell would ring faster.
Someone sat down next to me. I rolled my face up from the cradle that my arms made to see what I would consider to be a grade B hottie. This was Yamanaka Ino, the one I would call 'The Mouth', but wouldn't out of fear that she'd bitch me out in her usual 3 strikes lineup. Her 'strategy' of bitching out was to make a big deal of it in class, then do it again at lunch with her friends backing her up, and again two days later if need be, or rather, if any contact was ever made again in a two week period. Poor Shikamaru for being the one who received the brunt of Ino's screeching. It wasn't like she liked him; it was just that he only spoke the truth… at the worst possible moments.
I decided to ignore her in favor of actually paying attention to the teacher's broken English.
After a mildly painful first period [not the female kind, I then had PE, the subject that nerds dread and normal people hate. Me, I'm okay with it because it's not really academic— just a bit to active for me. But then again, since it was the first day, all of the teachers were still trying to go over their stupid yearlong goals that about 15 percent of the students wouldn't meet anyways.
After PE came brunch, in which I hurried over to the cafeteria line to sate my hunger. Mmmm… bagel and strawberry cream cheese. Aside from the fact that the bagel was a little undercooked, it was better than nothing.
I sat at one of the numerous picnic benches in the quad, eating and making little doodles in my sketchbook. I sketched a small caricature of my Chem teacher with an axe coming out of her mouth as she maimed her words.
Turning the page, I settled down to try a new exercise I had been working on for a while— figure drawing. My junior high art teacher always managed to capture the single fleeting moments of movement when he did his quick sketches. It was as if he was putting motion onto paper rather than emotion. His art just seemed to flow in a way that made the pictures almost walk right off the paper. Almost. And here I was, with my poor imitation of his greatness. Ah well, practice makes perfect, right?
The bell rang again. One sketch. I tried doing a quickie of this kinda skinny girl sitting down on the picnic bench opposite of my own. She just got up and she's walking towards me. Yeah, time to go to 3rd period.
So, here's my… attempt at a story… tell me what you think!! I've got some stuff planned out, but that can change. I also need a beta… or two…