I hate algebra 2. Who been ever invented it should have been tortured to death for creating THIS torture. Bored out of my mind, I shut the books.
Skipping sixth tomorrow sounds extremely tempting. It would be so relaxing to just hang out with my friends for an entire hour, without a care in the world.
Right on cue, I receive a text from Alex. "I'm bored," I laugh lightly and shake my head "What else is new?"
As soon as I put the phone down, it begins ringing. "Who could it be," I think ever so sarcastically, knowing exactly who it is.
"Hello?" I drone in a monotone.
"Melody, it's your mother," No, really? Do you want to come over this weekend? I need to discuss your grades with you. You haven't been doing well in some of your classes. I'm going to give the grade sheets to you. You need to give them to your father,"
"Look, mom," I cut her off feeling the anger rise up in the pit of my stomach. "Those grades are old and my teachers haven't updated them yet. I don't want any more crap from this than I'm already getting from you AND dad. I can't come over this weekend, I'm sorry."
"You don't miss me, do you?"
The tears well up in my eyes and all I can choke out is "I gotta go." before hanging up on her.
I get off my bed and plop onto the blue carpet next to my bookshelf. Past the books lies the sharp utility blade I've been hiding. Like clockwork, I lift up my sleeve and press the blade to the inside of my arm, watching the crimson regret flow out.
It's as if he was watching me because Alex texts me instantaneously. "You didn't do anything stupid, did you?" I sob and throw the phone across the room.
I've been friends with Alex since we were little. He's always been there for me when I needed him; through the divorce, when I started cutting, and through the break ups. He's consoled me and dried my tears countless times. The last time I cut, he made me promise him that it wouldn't happen again.
I drag myself across the floor and pick up the phone. "It was only one..."
"Get some rest, Mel. You need to clear your head. I'll talk to you tomorrow at school, okay?"
"Okay. Goodnight." I sigh quietly and pull myself into bed, pushing the books and my bag off before wrapping myself in the blankets. I don't even bother to change out of my jeans and t-shirt.
Before I know it, it's morning. I groan and roll over to check the clock. I still have a couple of hours since its late start today. I slowly get out of bed and poke my head out the door. My dad's already gone for work, so I'm home alone. I go on and begin my daily routine without having to think much about it.
All I can think about is Alex. Alexander Vandermark, my best friend since kindergarten. I don't know why but lately, I've been feeling a sort of need to be around him aside from the fact that he's practically my brother. It's not one of those feelings you have when thinking about a platonic friend. It's one of those things where you feel like you want to be theirs and theirs only.
Maybe I do like him and I just don't want to admit it.
No. I shake my head as if trying to shake the thought off.
I stop and look in the mirror to admire myself before going out in public. Long blonde hair with bangs that never seem to cooperate, big hazel colored eyes that can easily pull off a puppy dog face. I sigh as I gaze at my reflection. I may be small, petite, and cute to others, but I just can't see it.
As I walk into the kitchen, I spot a piece of paper on the counter.
"Mel," It reads. "I'm not going to be able to pick you up from school today, so you're going to have to find a ride home or walk. Call me, Dad"
I shrug and grab and apple before slinging my bag onto my shoulder, and I'm out the door.
School is dull, school is boring, and school is painful. High school is no exception. Everyone magnifies you 100xs under the microscope, looking for any flaw in your facade. It s almost like a Chink in the armor. Because of all of the insecurities everyone faces when going through all of the awkward phases of adolescence, people tend to get more aggressive in their fight to the top of the food chain. Some will do anything if it means degrading themselves to a lowly slug in order to be initiated into the newer social status. Others, however, take the "anything" too far and end up doing sexual favors for people.
Alice Edmonds, my ex-best friend. She had become the school slut since the first day of freshman year. Two years later, the guys still can't get enough of her.
Back in seventh grade, I got depressed because of my parents fighting and my brother moving out. I had noticed that all of my friends had decided to start cutting themselves as if they were following some sort of trend. As it turns out, Alice was doing it as well. She put the razor in my hand and told me "Physical pain is easier to handle than emotional pain." and walked away. It took me two weeks to get up the courage to try it. Once I tried it, I was hooked.
She tormented me over the internet the last two years, telling me that all of my friends secretly hated me and thought I was annoying. She would yell and scream at me for going after "her" guys when in reality, I had known them longer than she's even known how to get down on her knees. She's a twisted person, and I hate everything she's become.
"Hi Melody," she smiles sickly-sweet and waves. I just roll my eyes and keep walking When I finally make it into school after trying to get through all of the traffic, the first thing on my list is to go to my locker and get my text books.
I say hi to people every now and again when I meet eyes with them because it's the polite thing to do. None of them have wronged me, so why shun them because I'm not in a good mood?
I have to dial the combination into my lock twice before it finally works, then the latch on my locker gets sticky. I end up getting my books and slamming the locker shut, only to see a very familiar face behind the locker door that was once there.