Yay! Chapter 1! -party- Sorry it took a while. I've been in a slump :/ But! Good news! Chapter two is already started! I just don't know when it will be finished and posted...so..I don't really think that news is very good...ANYWAY. The story switches out POVs. Everytime you see the page break, it's a new one, starting with Matt :3
Disclaimer: Nada.
MattxMello
I woke up to the repetitive ring of my alarm clock, the loud noise blaring though the small speakers and into my helpless ears. Blindly, I reach my hand from the covers of my warm bed and smack around the nightstand until finding the "off" button on my clock. Groaning loudly, I get out of my safe haven and step onto plush carpet, remembering what day it was. This just made me groan louder.
Fuckin' great. Today is my first day at a new high school. Once again, for the fourth time in my life, I'm going to be the antisocial new kid that everyone will stare and laugh at; just another obstacle taking up space. Not to mention it's the middle of February, and the year is already half over.
I walk to my bathroom and strip off my clothes, looking in the mirror at my pale self, willing myself not to stare at my arm. There's really nothing special about me, unless you count my abnormal red hair (that I hate). I mean really, it's practically the color of blood; not even ginger red. Who the fuck is born with hair like that? It contrasts with my practically albino skin. I'm not one, however, I hate going outside. I'm not fat, but I'm far from muscular. I'm sure I'm the worst fighter in existence. People usually just ignore me, or I don't bother fighting back. What good would it do? Sighing to myself, I turn on the shower as hot as I can stand, and get in, letting the steam and spray temporarily wash away my worries.
My life isn't really the best, I ponder, whilst the hot water beats down on me, turning my skin a pale red. I've been adopted four times in the past four years. I think I've finally gotten into a family that will keep me, so I hope for the best, which is unusual for me.
After washing my hair and body, I step out of the shower and dry myself off. Shaking my wet hair, I walk into my room, skillfully stepping over the mess and pick out my clothes for the day. I take out a pair of loose-ish skinny jeans, and get a red and black striped shirt from my closet. Once I dress myself, I pull on my combat boots and lace them up. Quickly, I run a comb through my hair and let it air dry. Seriously, what male needs a fucking hair dryer? Once I grab my (new) goggles, I slide them on my head and around my neck.
I check my clock, which reads only seven. Dammit, I have extra time. I sigh and grab my DS, scratching at my arm. Before leaving my room, I walk to my dresser again and grab the rosary on it. Once I place it around my neck, tucked safely inside my shirt, I walk downstairs into the kitchen, ignoring the silence of the house.
I'm sort of glad my "parents" work nightshifts at the hospital. It gives me extra time in the morning to be alone. It's not that I don't like them, because in my opinion, they are by-far the best pair of people I've come by. Notice I say pair. Neither of them can compete to the greatest person. Nobody can… Lightly fingering the rosary, I walk into the kitchen. I quickly eat a spoonful of peanut butter to satisfy my morning hunger and head out the door. Might as well go early, so I won't get lost. I probably wouldn't anyway. I toured the school during school hours yesterday. I'm sure people will know who I am, so I already know what I'm up for this year. But really, what's it matter? I'll just be friendless until I graduate. Then I'm stalking down the one person I want to see more than anything.
And I'll do it, too. I'm going to find him, whether he wants it or not. Chuckling at my own absurdity, I walk out the front door and outside, into the cold weather. I push up my sleeves and slide on my goggles, letting the cold wind hit my arms. It feels good. I walk slowly, dreading the day ahead of me.
Unfortunately, it's not long until I reach the school. There aren't many cars in the student parking lot, so perhaps there aren't many people here. I could have driven my car, but if I did, it wouldn't have taken as much time to get here.
I had gotten everything I needed yesterday, so I went to my assigned locker and pulled out the books I needed for my first and second periods. After slamming my locker shut, I slide down to the floor and pull out my blue DS until the bell rings.
I get a few minutes, and as each one passes, more and more people start to crowd into the school building. I can feel eyes boring into my skin, but I ignore it. It's the same here as everywhere else. No one wants to bother getting distracted by the new antisocial gamer. I hear whispers of "What a freak" and "What's with the goggles?" Some even said I was ugly and a loser, and I heard snickers and laughs around me.
Fuck them. The least they could do is laugh where I won't hear. The bell finally rings and I get up, making my way to my first class, which is Literature. Once again, I walk slowly, but not slow enough to be late.
Upon entering the classroom, every head turns to me. My heartbeat quickens, but I do my best to take no notice of it. The teacher eyes me, and smiles kindly, giving me a motion to come over to her desk. I walk over there, and stand in front of her desk. She had blonde hair, and dark lips. She was pretty young, if I was judging correctly.
"Good morning," she says nicely. I only nod, and avert my gaze elsewhere. "You must be Matt, correct?" I nod again, this time looking at her. At least she didn't use my first name. "I'm Ms. Kenwood. It's good to have you in my class. I hear you're a great student," she smiles at me, and I attempt to smile back. I shrug, trying to be modest. I remember spotting an empty seat in the back of the room, with not many people surrounding it.
"Um, Miss? Can I sit in the back? I saw an open seat…" She nods understandingly, even though I hadn't told her anything. Before I moved, she got up from her seat and stood beside me.
"Alright everyone. This is Matt Jeevas. He'll be in this class from now on, so I expect the best from all of you. Understood?" her voice was stern, and everyone nodded, along with few replies of "Yes ma'am." She motions me to my seat, and I follow her directions to go sit down. I clasp my hands together on my desk and rest my chin on them. I know people are looking back at me, but I can't bring myself to care.
"Okay, today we will have an easy assignment. Very, very simple. Why? Because I don't feel like teaching you brats today." She walks to the blackboard and writes in neat cursive. "Your prompt today is to write about something you hate. Absolutely cannot stand. It can't be a person. It must be an object. Your word limit is one-hundred fifty, so please do not go over that. Do not put your name on this. I expect complete silence from all of you, got it?" Everyone either nodded or replied. I could tell this lady was feared. She seemed nice to me, though. Shrugging inwardly, I take out a piece of paper and a pencil. This was really easy. I was about to start when I heard her talk again.
"Oh, and class. Write about something you don't mind someone else reading. We will be switching papers with the second period class, so make sure it's nothing too personal." Pfft. Fucking great. The thing I dislike most is as "personal" I can get without it being too inappropriate. Oh well. Tough shit for me, I guess.
I begin writing, not putting my name on it.
There are a lot of things that I don't like. Of all the things that I hate, though, chocolate takes the spot as number one. I absolutely despise the fowl treat. It's not the taste, or anything of the sort. Sure, I'm not a big fan of how it tastes, but that's not the reason I dislike it. I hate it because of its reminders. When I was 13, my best friend moved away from me. He was always eating that damned concoction. I remember the crunch of how obnoxiously loud he'd eat it, and his voice telling me to go get him more. I never minded, of course. It always…reassured me, I guess. I'm unsure what of, but I was glad it was me and not anybody else. He's the only one I've ever befriended, and he's the only one I want to be friends with. No one else.
I decided to stop it there. That was one-hundred fifty words, and I didn't feel like changing anything. I looked around at everyone still writing, and laid my head on my desk. I sighed quietly, my chest tightening as I thought of times at the orphanage.
"Aww, come on Mels! Go get your own!" whined a 12-year-old Matt. It was way past curfew, but the two best friends were still up. They were both sitting on Mello's bed, Matt's head in Mello's lap as the elder absently played with the red hair. Matt was engrossed in his video game, pressing buttons while complaining to Mello. "Why's it gotta be me?"
"Because you're my best friend. Think of everything I've ever done for you!"
Matt grumbled. "Because spraining my ankle and getting me grounded is what a friend does," he said, albeit closing his game and getting out of the blond's lap.
"That was one time!"
Matt rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He said, walking to the door.
"You're not really mad, are you Matt?" the blond asked somewhat worriedly. Matt sighed and turned around.
"Of course not, Mello," he said with a soft smile. Mello smiled back.
"Now. Go. I need chocolate." Playfully rolling his eyes again, he turned to the door.
"I hate you sometimes."
"Love you too, Matty!"
The bell knocks me out of my flashback, and I hurriedly pack up my things and leave, turning in my paper on the way out. On to my next class. History…
On my way, I bump into someone. He didn't seem very mad. It was just a simple misstep. I look up to be met with dark, basically sleep-deprived eyes. It was obvious he wasn't a student, but he also wasn't dressed like a teacher. He looked at me oddly, and turned his head to the side, kind of like an owl would.
"Why, hello. I don't believe I've seen you here before. Please, tell me your name?" he said, his voice somewhat deep, with a hint of curiosity. He had on a white long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans, with faded sneakers on his feet.
"I'm…Matt. Matt Jeevas…" his eyes widened slightly for a fraction of a second, and then he smiled faintly.
"Well, Matt Jeevas. I'm Mr. Lawliet, the councilor. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask." He nods and walks off, shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets.
What a weird human…
MattxMello
For the love of fuck. I hate this damn lady. And I'm sure she hates me too. Ms. Fucking Kenwood. Jesus, I've never met a grouchier lady in my life. I don't even know what I did to make her hate me! God, I wish she would die. I'd run her the fuck over in a heartbeat.
Biting my chocolate angrily, I take my seat next to the window, and just stare at the courtyard. I smile, remembering the times a few years ago, when my best friend and I would go out in the courtyard of the orphanage and climb trees. Of course, I'd always have to help him down, but it was still fun. Just being with him was enough for me.
"Mello! If you are done smiling at the trees, can you please pay attention?" I growl at Miss Hard-Ass and face her, my lips in a scowl and my teeth tearing at the chocolate bar. At least she didn't take that from me. I obnoxiously bite into it, making Hard-Ass and the other students give me looks. Rolling my eyes, I set it in my pocket, smiling a bit as my fingers brushed the goggles in the pocket of my leather jacket. I wonder if he ever got any more…
"Today," Miss Hard-Ass began, "I had first period write a paper on one thing they hate. I will pass those out to you guys. I would like you to analyze them, and write your opinion. Please do not specify who looked over it, as it will be anonymous, just like you don't know whose paper you will get. Got it?" Everyone nodded, and she started passing out papers. I received one, and began looking over it.
Okay, not that I have much to say, but honestly. "The thing I hate the most is Mexican cheese?" People amaze me. I finish reading the text this person wrote and I write my opinion. I hope they don't recognize handwriting…
Once done, I pull out my chocolate and attempt to finish it without getting interrupted. It was going good for a while until I heard my name.
"Mello! You have to read this." It was Linda. She wasn't really a friend, per se, but we were friendly, I guess. She was nothing compared to him though. I growl at the fact that me and my chocolate were intermitted, and turned to her.
"What?" I spat, turning around. She didn't flinch, probably already used to me. She leaned from her desk right behind mine and handed me a paper with a messy scrawl on it.
There are a lot of things that I don't like. Of all the things, that I hate, though, chocolate takes the spot as number one.
Holy shit. I declare blasphemy! How could anyone hate God's (second) greatest creation? My lip curls in disgust and I keep reading.
It's not the taste? What else would you hate chocolate for?
As I keep reading, my eyes widen. I could feel my heartbeat begin to quicken. There's just no way. This is purely and completely coincidence. I can't be the only one who eats chocolate loudly, had a best friend, and then moved away. I took a deep breath…
Not possible.
MattxMello
I sighed. I hate this class. It's my first day and I already have someone who seems to hate me. Trace, whose name I learned after he already got called down once by our history teacher, apparently seems to have an automatic abhorrence against redheaded, antisocial wimps such as myself. He's constantly throwing glares my way, and I can't seem to recall anything to piss him off. I stay silent, ignoring him in hopes he won't cause a scene and keep to myself.
"I bet," began the teacher, who was talking about some random figures in history, "you guys didn't know that a lot of famous historical people were actually orphans." This struck a chord I did not want played. "It's true. Herbert Hoover, the Greek philosopher Aristotle, and George Washington Carver. Even Bach was an orphan." Can't he just shut up? Shaking, I rest my head on my desk, hoping to drown out the stupid jackass in the front of the room. I can feel my heart angrily in my chest.
"Yes, Trace?" the teacher called. Oh God. This can't be good.
"Yeah, I was just wondering…" he droned on. "What's so great about a famous person being an orphan?" What the fuck? I could hear the smirk in his voice. He knew. He was doing this on purpose. He continued.
"Being an orphan isn't special. It just means your parents didn't want you." I have to stay calm. "Either that, or they did something horrible to you, which caused them to get arrested or something. If you ask me, being an orphan doesn't make someone more interesting. They're just other lives, taking up space."
That's fucking it. I can't stand being in the room with him. I have to leave. Not even bothering to yell or grab my books, I storm out the room, eyes following my every step.
MattxMello
I have to find out. Now. I get up, and ask the teacher if I could go to the bathroom. She says yes, probably only hoping to get me out. Most people who have Literature first usually have history next…If they are in more advanced classes… He was always smarter than most of the other kids, despite him being childish, so I all but run to Mr. Von's classroom. I'm almost to the door when I spy some student walking briskly down the hallway. I stop dead in my tracks.
Some student with red hair, a striped shirt, and an obvious strap from goggles. Call me crazy, but I don't think many people wear those types of things religiously. I openly stare as he walks into the nearest boy's bathroom. I regain control of my body and follow him.
Upon entering the bathroom, I try not to make much noise. I could hear quiet, yet heavy breathing. I walk in further and see the boy from the hallway. He was leaning face first against the wall, his hands on the wall and his shirt sleeves balled up in his fist. He still hasn't noticed me. I look in the mirror, hoping to get a glimpse of his face. My eyes widened as I realized that it was, in fact, Matt. My heart sped up once again. How he couldn't hear it was beyond me. His eyes were closed and his face was twisted to that of pain. I couldn't speak, or else I would have.
Slowly, I walked towards him, standing behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso, resting my head on his shoulder. He jumped slightly, and I whispered.
"I finally found you…Mail Jeevas."
xXx
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