I know it has been awhile, but my PC has been having issues. I just got a new one a few days ago, so I'm really happy. Enjoy this chapter. There is going to be a major plot twist in the future. I'll take guesses. After reading this chapter, put your guesses in the reviews if you want…(If you are to review. I hope you do because reviews are FOOD!)
To Quite_Rightly…Yeah. Your review threw me off with its bluntness, but I sat there laughing for about fifteen minutes. Thank you for this. P.S. I am not certain if there is to be bloodsex in this fic or not. Only time will tell. I will also give some insight on what Gary thinks of his religion in this story…I personally, am non-theistic…but I do think I have a somewhat spiritual connection with world even if I don't think I believe in God.
Chapter Two: "I'm So Sick"
I think I slept on the bus ride to school, but the time just passes by like the rival cars on RALLY X Arrangement. The bus finally stopped, everyone jerked forward when Ms. Crabtree quit her maniacal speeding only to slam on the breaks really hard. My head hit the chair in front of me, neck snapping to the side, much to Craig's amusement who sat across from me. When I gave him a glare, he just flipped me off, face losing all expression. Grabbing the twitchy kid next to him by the arm, he left the bus without a word. Stan, Kenny, Kyle, and Cartman passed silently through the aisle. I stared at Stan longingly, long enough to catch a seething glare from Kyle.
I was the last to get off the bus, almost earning the pleasure of having the two doors slamming against me on my way out. I jumped off the second step and made my trek to the school entrance. Two girls, Wendy and Bebe, I recalled stood next to a red-haired girl and a boy I remembered vaguely as Thomas. He bit his lip, his face scrunched up as if in attempt to hold something in. At this time, I didn't know he had Tourette's syndrome. When I reached the entrance of the west building, I silently decided to go to the library for the thirty minutes before first period after going to my locker. My shoes clicked against the tile floors of the school, polished and fixed—much nicer than South Park Elementary school's flooring. None of the rooms had carpet, much to my disappointment because I hated the clicking or clanking of shoes against the floors of the classrooms. Since I was an 'obedient and quiet child', I never complained about such trivial things. We had the privilege of chewing gum in class, a good distraction from the scratching of pencils and pens…and the oh-so annoying footsteps and grinding of pencil sharpeners.
My locker was near the main entrance of the school. The night before, I glued my new schedule for freshman year inside my planner, my combination written in neat, careful print on the same page.
"Shit!" I mutter when my attempt to open locker failed. I kicked it, creating a noticeable dent on the door. I looked around frantically to see if any teachers noticed. Giving out a sigh of relief, I tried again, my locker swinging open, hitting my face. I heard a low chuckle behind me. When I turned around, I saw Craig standing above me, eyes glinting mischievously at me. My eyes trailed behind me to my things spilling out of my open backpack. Great…the zipper broke—again.
"What's this?" he asked mildly, snickering when he picked up a small metal razor from the ground. He brought it up directly under the fluorescent lights above us, causing the shiny metal to give off a wonderful gleam. "Beautiful…isn't it? Can I take a guess?"
"Take a guess at what?" I snapped, earning another humoured smirk.
"You cut. You dream of cutting others. You are a masochist and a sadist. There isn't any need to worry because…" He pushes me up against my locker, his knee pressed against my crotch, rubbing it gently. "—I am as well. If you need someone to play games with, I'm always here." I held in a gasp when he licked my cheek. Until then, I didn't notice that he'd stealthily scratched my cheek with the razor. When he handed it back to me, I noticed little traces of blood. As he walked away, he called back, "Oh…by the way, Stan's straight." His shoes made a clicking noise as he continued on, his steps echoing in my ears. I threw the razor in my locker and slammed it shut, taking my planner and two pencils with me. My body shook with shock, but I was snapped out of it when I heard Bebe and Wendy pointing and laughing at me. Suddenly, I noticed the throbbing in my crotch area as well as a prominent erection pressing against the zipper of my jeans. Great…this day is starting off wonderfully. Could it continue like this?
/
After taking five minutes to jerk off in the bathroom, I raced to the library, noticing I now had half the amount of time I intended to spend there. Entering the library, I saw seven people besides me, occupying themselves with reading or in Clyde and some other kid's case, throwing spitballs at the back of Butters' head. He shrieked in exasperation, throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at the back at the hysterical pair. Stan and Kyle were also in here, thumbing through the new selection of literature the faculty had so generously put together over the summer. Being a newly acclaimed 'small fry', I thought this a welcoming treat to high school, although I was aware that high school wasn't such an inviting place. After searching through various titles, I found the book I was looking for—Nathaniel Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter, when I bumped into Stan.
"….Hey, Gary," Stan greeted mildly, turning his attention back to the shelf before him. Kyle scowled, his head turned slightly sideways away from Stan and me.
"Hey," I responded, coolly, thoughts racing through my head at the speed of light, flying past me before I could process them. I tied a jacket around my waist, lest I should get another boner…last thing we need.
"We need to go see the English teacher, remember?" Kyle said to Stan, nudging him in the shoulder. Stan nodded his head and took Kyle by the hand, waving as he walked out of the library. Kyle did something very illogical—groped my ass and then flipped me off with a grimace. A blush crept to my cheeks, but I suppressed my urges as much as I could.
"What the hell…?" I cursed under my breath, taking my book up to the checkout counter. She asked for my student I.D, which the teachers issued to us on the day we received our schedules. There was a mass crowding for picture-taking, so the schedules, briefing, and second-time school tour took about seven hours. My parents were pissed, like, really pissed. My mother impatiently tapped her foot with each click of the camera. When my sister and I finally made it up to the next four, Mom began to relax and Dad went off to the restroom. The youngest ones in our family cried and stamped their feet as if they were Indians chanting at some strange ritual or just a little kid who wasn't allowed to have any ice cream, thus throwing a temper tantrum. My older sister and I, bored to death, went along with procession without complaint, silently rejoicing when we arrived home at seven o'clock in the evening. It may have been an hour earlier if Dad hadn't just said "CONFOUND IT" and made us eat in the cafeteria with most of the other families.
I thanked the lady and made my way to my first class—Orchestra. I wish I had picked up the clarinet or something so I could at least be in band. I did not want to fall asleep playing second violin in the middle of a concert with a bazillion people there. Band was at least lively and it kept me awake for ALL of the class.
/
After orchestra, German, and P.E, I made my way to the commons to eat lunch. I was sulking to myself that I had no one to sit with until Clyde and Token suddenly linked arms with me and asked, "Wanna sit with us?" I tensed up for a moment before answering, "Sure…uh…Token and Clyde, right?" Silently and desperately, I hoped to God that they wouldn't realize how foolish I sounded. You could say that although I was good at expressing how I felt, I wasn't good with this introduction, name-thing, picking out friends shit. I felt it better for people to come along and pick me, and sometimes this wasn't the greatest idea. God…I hope everything will turn out all right.
I know I kind of left this chapter hanging, and it's sort of boring, but I hope you read it for the funny tid-bits. I found this chapter enjoyable. And please remember—Reviews are FOOD. People who at least read the beginning of the first volume of Parasyte by Hitoshi Iwaaki should know where this reference comes from…:D