A dull life
You sit in silence; everyone sits in silence that's too quiet. Besides the occasional tap of the pencil on the desk, the weak random cough, or the sound of a bouncing leg, it's only the clock you can hear, ticking away as time passes on at an even slower pace than usual. How you let yourself get distracted like this you don't know. Math is your thing, even the most complicated equation is just as easy as tying your shoe. But somehow your thoughts fade in and out in the silence that almost makes you question if you've gone deaf.
You're not stuck or stumped on a problem, oh no, you can't remember the last time that happened. You just rest your head on your hand as you stare at the clean white board in front of you, imagining all the beautiful drawings or plans that could fill the blank canvas. If only you could get your hands on a marker. Your thoughts drift from the white board to a while other realm. Why do thoughts work like that? Why are you on one stable topic and it feels like five seconds, yet somehow your mind went somewhere else? You blame the ADD; you only realize how much it plays a big part in your life in moments like these.
You feel like you've been stuck in your mind for an hour, but in reality, it's only been five minutes. You watch as Mello stands up with his test and turns it in at the front of the class. You curse yourself in your head. If you would stop getting so distracted, then maybe you would've finished before him for once in your life.
For the next 10 minutes you work as hard as you can and finish the last three problems. Soon you stand up and turn in your test too. You look to the side, seeing some of the kids are barely half way through it. Quickly though you turn your head from all of the kids papers before your teacher catches you looking. Somehow you don't notice that you've just gotten side tracked again and it just came to mind that your body has been lingering up by the front of the class much longer than it should. Your feet quickly make its way back to your seat and sit down next to the blonde kid.
He's just sitting there, same death glare plastered on his face. Bangs fall perfectly on his forehead and hair always straightened. Sometimes he's dressed casually in a band shirt and some jeans, other days he is almost completely decked out in leather. Leather boots, leather pants, vest and a jacket. Today he's on the leather side. You see him pull out a chocolate bar from the corner of your eye but turn away and ignore all that quickly. It wasn't a good idea to stare; just makes you look awkward and makes things weird. Instead you pull out your DS from your bag and continue to play from where you last left off.
For the rest of the class you just put yourself into your game, you don't realize when people start to chatter, you don't notice the chatter turns into almost yelling like a lot of classes do. You just sit there, killing everything you see on the screen. You didn't even notice the bell ring, if it wasn't for you catching the movement of people walking out the door in your view you may have not realized at all. So you slip your DS into your vest pocket and grab your bag, following Mello outside of the classroom. When you guys reach the end of the hall, you turn to go to computer programming and he continues walking forward to who knows where.
Honestly how this whole thing started you don't know. You two have never spoken a word to one another, yet you two don't completely ignore each other. You know that you didn't randomly become infatuated with him, you know why you want to know more about him and maybe that's the reason all of this is going on.
At the start of the year, you two were placed in the same AP English and calculus class you have now. You didn't think much of it at first, well, until he started getting higher marks than you. That never happened; you were usually always the top. Usually when someone else got the top score, you let it slide off, you never really wanted ever wanted to be at the top. But Mello would always give an over joyed smirk that pissed you off. It made you work a little bit hard to try to beat him. So just like that, silently, it was decided you two would compete against each other in class. Teachers always read the highest score that was gotten in the class, always making the two of your wait on the edge of your seats, to see who won. While when the two of you would take the test; it was always to see who could finish first. Assignments were always compared with sideways glances at each other's papers to see who got the higher score. A lot of them were so easy though, that the papers usually had full credit, so no one really won.
It's after all of this; it's after half a year of doing this that you want answers to your questions. You want to know what drives him to be the best, there are so many questions. Yet you can't receive them, so you just push them to the back of your head. There's no use in worrying about something you can't control. It's not easy to keep your mind off of the topic, but the more time off the topic of wondering about Mello, the more time that can be spent kicking his ass.
Programming passes as quickly as any other class. When the bell rings, you catch yourself letting out a sigh of relief as you shove your laptop into a tattered black school bag, swinging it over your shoulder and start walking out of the school to the parking lot. A body is slipped into the red car, starting it up. The music plays at the volume where it was last left at this morning. As the car sits there, waiting for the other few cars to make its way out, a cigarette is lit and stuck to lips before blowing a thick puff of smoke out of the tiny crack in the window. You know cigarettes aren't allowed on school property, but you're leaving anyways. You also know that the teachers don't even pay attention, so there's no reason to worry. A few seconds later and the cars are clear, you leave the cigarette in your lips and place both hands on the wheel as you speed home.
Nobody's home when you arrive, nothings new though. The house is spotless and always clean, it's almost like no one even lives in the house. The floors are all either black or white tile on the bottom floor, but reaching the stairs, everything else from beyond them, including the stairs, is made up of a deep cherry red wood flooring; that creaks whenever someone walks around on the middle of the night. A kitchen that's downstairs is full of white counters covered in granite. The island that sits in the middle of the kitchen has a silver metal bowl, placed in the center with perfectly ripe fruit. Like any other house, pictures cover the wall to give it life, but they aren't family photos that you guys have taken over the years. The pictures are just random art designs and other things. Your family has never been one for going out and spending time with one another. The last time a regular dinner conversation was had between the three of you, you can't even remember. You grew up this way, so you can't say you're bothered by it in the least. The more time you don't have to talk to people, the more time you can dedicate to playing video games and being alone in the comfort of your room.
Shoes click against the tile and wood as they walk up the steps, and into a room near the top of the stairs. When you arrive in your room, you turn on a lamp to bring some light into the dark room, since a large black curtain covers up a big window in your room that takes up the whole wall by your bed. You take off your boots and set them near a beat up couch that sits by the door. You then take off the bag and throw it on said couch before take the goggles off from around your eyes, setting them on the desk that sits on the other side of the door. A shirt and pants come off, to slip into something more comfortable and after all is said and done, you stand in the middle of your room trying to come up with something to do. First your eyes land on the bookshelf. It's filled with video games. Most of them still haven't been played, still left in the plastic you bought them in. other ones are probably in a language you don't even know, yet they still sit on your shelf waiting to be played. Then you look at the bed that's right next to your book shelf. The sheets are everywhere from earlier that morning, another laptop sits on the bed, with a series of report cards and student I.D's surrounding it. The rest of the room is a series of piles of clothes in random places and a TV that is still left on and is playing some cartoon in the background that you forgot to shut off before you left in the morning.
You finally decided to finish the work that needs to be done, so you crawl on your bed and open the laptop again; grabbing a few random papers and starting everything back up from where you left off. Near December and May you have a business that goes on, well it's yearlong, but around the finals time is when it really gets popular. Just like you expected, now in December people have been contacting you. You fix grades for people. You hack the network and fix what is needed. It's not cheap; prices are based on the risk factor, even though you know you won't be caught. Yet, somehow with the expensive prices for some of the simplest things changed, people will throw money at your face for it to be done. You will fix just about anything, you know your tracks are covered up so well that no one will probably never know who you are or who is doing this. The last time you checked, no one in the district even knew there's someone kid hacking into the network and changing kids grades and fixing homework scores.
The next few hours are spent getting the weeks' worth of grades that were starting to pile up fixed. You finish the last one when you hear your moms heals click against the floor downstairs. It makes you turn your head to see what time it is. It's 6; you didn't realize how quickly time got away. Even though your parents are home, you don't bother to go greet them. It just shows how much of a close relationship you have with them. Instead you just close your laptop, throwing the report cards in a pile on the desk that adds to the papers that need to be shredded later. Instead of doing homework like you should be doing, you stand up and grab a pack of cigarettes off your desk, with your lighter, walking to your couch and starting up a game. After lighting the first cigarette and pressing play on the screen you don't pay attention to anything for the rest of the night.
You don't know really when you fell asleep last night; you think it was around 2 am. All you know is that you woke up at 4:50 to your alarm shrilling through your ears and being very disoriented when you open your eyes to find yourself on your couch and a screen that asks you to reconnect the controller. In the dark, you stumble through the pile of the clothes, to turn off your stupid phone alarm and grab a pair of jeans off of the floor and a shirt out of your dresser before walking to the bathroom for an early morning shower. When the shower is over, you feel yourself a little bit more awake than before. You can now make out shapes and objects in your pitch black room. You turn on the lamp once more and grab your bag from off the floor to start your homework. It didn't take as long as you thought it would, which was good because when you finish, it was time to leave; or you would risk being late. So the new school supplies are shoved in your bag and you run downstairs, skipping breakfast and speed away to school. It wasn't unusual for cigarettes to be a substitute for breakfast. A bud is thrown out the window before the car pulls onto school property, parking in the usual that it always does; right next to a dark, shiny black bike. A body steps out of the car, bag around one shoulder and goggles around neck. Another boring day awaits you.
You thought this day had nothing important to offer, that was until science class rolled around after lunch. Finding out the teacher wasn't there; you were thrilled that meant you could spend the hour and a half on your DS and not on any boring school work. Your dreams were sadly crushed, when the science teacher from another class, says you would be joining her class for the day. So the class walks down the hall to her class and when you step inside, you're handed a paper and told to find a partner. Before you can even ask if you need a partner, she says yes it is mandatory and you just roll your eyes at the response. You hate working with people; they're so slow and never get the simple course work. You usually end up doing all the work anyway, so if you're going to do all the work, why can you just do it alone? You decide to not lose points over something so simple and scan the room for someone to work with. Of course sitting in the back, you see the head of long blonde hair. So without even thinking you walk back and pull up a desk next to his, writing your name on the paper, then handing him the paper to do the same.
Mello writes his name on the paper, but then continues to fill out the first few questions off the top of his head. The paper was supposed to be something where you read the chapter, then fill out the ten paragraph questions after you've read the chapter. You're not surprised to see it he knows it all without the book, because then again, you do too. After about 15 minutes of working in silence, he leans back, dropping the pencil on the paper and stretching out his cramped hand. You take this as your que to finish the sheet. So you look over the answers, making sure everything is correct. You don't know why, of course everything is. After seeing everything was more than correct you start to finish the paper while the class screams in the background, no one has even opened their text book yet probably.
Soon enough, the paper is done and you both have an hour to waste however you please. You pull out your DS out of your vest pocket, looking around the class, seeing a majority of the class still stuck on the third question. Before opening your DS, you set it on the desk and pick up the paper, going to go turn it in before coming back.
"At least you're a quick worker. I'll give you that," You find yourself saying out of nowhere when you come back to the desk.
You think you see a smirk on his face when you look at him; he crosses his arms and responds.
"They're not hard,"
For some reason you find a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "Yeah, it really wasn't hard," is all you say before opening your DS.
It's quiet, you try to play your game and focus on the characters running across the screen, but you keep looking at him over the top of it. You didn't know much about him, just as much as everyone else. He had earned the title Jackass in school, from how he wouldn't listen to people and was known to walk away from conversations that he wasn't interested in. You didn't know a lot else. Of course though, you find your mouth running like always.
"So you're the Jackass," You say, lowering your game.
"Guess I am," He responds, this time you know there's a smirk on his face.
"Is there a reason why that's your name?"
"I'm sure there's many," He shrugs, grabbing a chocolate bar from out of his bag and starts to tear the tin foil off.
As he eats, you open your DS once more and continue, a little bit more focused on your game than you were before. It's another few minutes of sitting in silence before he finally decides to talk this time.
"I'm not the only one who has reputation. You have one too you know"
Again you press pause on your gaming device and lower it to the desk as you raise an eyebrow. "That is?"
"A lot of girls call you a player because you talk to everyone and never date them. They think you lead them on and always go to some other girl even though I'm pretty sure you've never dated anyone in this school. I don't know what else, that's just from hallways conversations and social media"
"I see," You say, thinking for a moment. Honestly, you never really thought you had a reputation since you try to stay to yourself more than anything else. "Well, it's right that I haven't dated anyone in this school, well, any girl." You stop after that, answering another branch of the conversation. "All I know is that you're hated for being an asshole, yet loved because girls think 'you're insanely attractive' "
Mello raised an eyebrow as you mention that you haven't dated any of the girls in the school, he stays quiet though, knowing what you meant by it. "Well maybe they like me because I'm the only guy that takes a shower in this school"
"Are you insulting my hygiene to my face? I see the rumors are true then. You are an asshole"
"Better to have someone be real than fake"
"Well you better work on insults that are truer, because I do shower," You say, not really offended, but you did take a shower this morning, so it makes you question how he got that you didn't.
"Really? You smell like smoke and gasoline, which isn't bad for me, but it can be quite a turn off for some people"
"Well I work in a car shop if that tells you anything. I guess the smell just doesn't wash off," Maybe you just got so used to the smell you haven't noticed it anymore.
"Hmm, I guess so," He looked at you, eyes examining your body. "Still, it's something you should probably work on fixing"
"I feel like somethings you just say to get a negative reaction. That's fine; I'll see what you can come up with," you lean back in your chair and bring the DS back up to your face, waiting for his response. It never comes though, he just shrugs. So you play your device for the rest of class.
When the conversation ends, it's just silence between the two of you, but you don't mind. What you've figured with the conversation is that Mello does in fact piss you off, but that doesn't make you turn away from him. There's that fucking mysterious aura around him and you want to know him and continue to piss him off as well. The bell rings, you guys get up, walking side by side to the English class that you two share; you guys don't say anything to each other though. You sit down in the chairs beside each other and continue the silence, you just playing your game and him just looking ahead at the front of the class. When the class ends and you guys get up to walk to the parking lot to go home, you don't say anything then either. You just get in your car and he just gets on his bike, riding on home for the night.
I haven't written a fan fiction in a while, so I apologize if there are any typos or my words are very awkwardly chosen. I try my best, but with still trying to develop a writing style that I'm pleased with, it's hard. I hope you also enjoyed the first chapter. I'm still trying to develop Matt in my own way and Mello, but I don't know how spot on they are. I'm just hoping they're not too OC. I'm sorry, I'm rambling. Anyways, enjoy the start of a very long story, hopefully it isn't too shitty.
-Lillith
