At home, Alfred sat in front of his computer, pounding furiously on the keys of his keyboard. The horrible feeling from a few hours ago had slowly sunk in and was eating him from the inside out. He wasn't "angry"; really, he wasn't.
He was way beyond that.
"…Life gives me lemons, I make lemonade, and then life comes along and splashes me in the eyes, pointing and laughing as I cry out in pain."
Period.
Alfred paused for a moment, and read over the words he had just typed out.
"…Grgh!…" He grabbed the closest object – a plastic pencil holder; he aimed it directly at his closet's mirror and, with a heavy amount of force, and a successful hit, the mirror cracked only slightly, a spider web shape gracing the upper left corner of the two way glass.
He felt bad for a moment, but the feeling only dispersed; he was angry; that, he could admit.
Alfred hated feeling envious, jealous, "green-eyed".
However, it was simply who he was. As a child he would be upset at even the smallest things. On top of that, he had low self esteem, although he would never show it – everyone else seemed to be able to adapt to the situation before them, while it took him what seemed to be the longest time to do the same.
"plan…plan…I need a plan…" He pulled some white paper out, "…I hate this feeling…I hate it…so much…"
Pulling out a pencil, he started scribbling random doodles – not very good ones – pressing down on the lead each time he made a stroke; so much that it would leave marks on his desk through the sheet.
Everything had gone by so fast, he barely recalled the happy – if there were any – memories he had before his parents had split.
These thoughts further angered him.
Tossing the pencil to the side, he crumpled the sheet into a small ball, and threw it into the trashcan.
"Who am I kidding?" Alfred allowed gravity to let his head drop painfully on his desk, "…I'll never get him to notice me."
Matthew was barely noticed at school himself; he added in his mind, "…this sucks."
This complicated train of thought was interrupted by his mother's voice coming from the kitchen downstairs, "Dinner's ready! Get down here, now!"
Alfred felt no obligation to reply.
Dinner commenced thickly coated in silence, as per usual. His mother never was one for initiating a conversation with him, or with anyone. This made it difficult for him to uncover any real emotion – if any – that his mother had for him.
Surprisingly however, this evening's dinner was served with a side of unusual questioning.
"Alfred…" His mother started, a twinge of concern only slightly evident in her voice, "…Dear, your forehead is bruised; did you hurt yourself, today?"
"…'bruised'? What makes you say that?" Alfred spat out bitterly; his mother, not at all fazed by his answer.
"…Well, it seems as if you've been angry for quite a long time now an-"
"'Seems'? You're wrong. It's been well over three years that I've been upset by everything! You're always going on, and on and on about how I'm not dressing as 'proper' as I had been at my old school, and how I'm now 'suddenly acting rebellious' when all I ever do is obey your rules! If this 'bruise' today was the only thing that made you realize all this, then yes; yes, mother, I did 'seem' angry, and I did 'seem' upset. So, tell me why you didn't confront me about my 'anger' the moment you noticed it, 'Quite. Along. Time. Ago.'?"
His mother gave no answer, no reply, no comment, not even as much as a nod of the head. The table was quiet for a solid five minutes; nothing could be heard except for the light clanking of cutlery and plates. Instead, in an attempt to fan away the dark atmosphere, his mother changed the subject.
"…What to do…" Alfred lay on his bed, tossing a baseball up, only to have it fall back down into his hand; he repeated the process. Having survived dinner once again – just as he had done every night, he had some spare time to think. Any "normal" person would have gotten sick of it, and left. He often wondered at times, why he hadn't abandoned the situation completely, deserted his mother and claim autonomy for himself.
He was thirteen; A sixth grader who had been robbed of his childhood, and forced into early work as an "adult".
Furthermore, he was in love; or rather – infatuated with a boy at school! A boy who he couldn't even hold a conversation with.
Alfred sighed, tossed the ball up once more, and caught it; leaving it on his bed, as he got up and grabbed his coat by the door, "…I need some air."
The night was cold, the air was freezing; yet, he didn't care.
He always thought it made someone look cool in movies when they took a shot like that; the protagonist walking alone at night, hands in his pockets, puffing air out into the quiet space, watching as his breath slowly fall in gentle grey clouds before dissolving into the night.
Alfred also knew that in these types of movies; the main character would usually run into some ridiculous kind of bump in the plot at this point; an event that would spark the rising action, and – hopefully; slowly – get to the climax.
He made it to a nearby convenience store, and, upon arriving at the tattered up welcome mat, lazily reached into his pocket for some change, only able to pull out about a dollar and thirty two cents.
He shrugged, and dragged himself inside; it'd be enough to buy a can of pop, and maybe a pack of gum if he was lucky.
The depressed teen was hoping to find some peace at the small shop; however, the moment the automatic doors slid apart, he could've sworn his heart dropped to his stomach.
It was almost like a video game he once played; the player defeats the boss monster, and is rewarded with whatever is left in the castle.
Of course, the tables would turn if the boss level consisted of him, and the one he had a crush on; standing in front of the soda machine so that he couldn't even see the price sign. Furthermore, Matthew was just leaning up against the side of the machine, orange pop in one hand, cell phone in the other.
Instead of casually walking past Matthew to grab a can for himself, Alfred circled around the store discreetly for a few minutes, much like a shark surrounding its prey. When he noticed that there was no chance of Matthew ever moving from the spot any time soon, he gave up and forced himself to walk over for a drink.
He was incredibly mindful of each step he took; thinking that if he made one false move, Matthew would notice, and he'd have less than the chance he thought he had in their possible future.
His hands almost trembled; fidgeting as he counted up his coins. He put in the money, hit a random button, and flinched at the sound of the can dropping to the bottom of the machine's tray.
Strawberry juice.
"Ugh." It wasn't that Alfred hated the drink; he was usually in the mood for something more carbonated, and strawberries really weren't his thing.
"…I'll trade with you, if you want." He heard a voice call out from beside him; Alfred found himself unable to speak even more so. Matthew continued, "…I hit the wrong button by mistake. Drinks like these bother me; I prefer something much mellower."
"Ah..uh..mm…t-that-!" Alfred mentally slapped himself; the very first time Matthew actually acknowledged him, and he was spewing up random words and forming incoherent sentences!
Matthew laughed, and forcibly switched the cans, "You're funny; we go to the same school, don't we?"
When Alfred stuttered some more and refused to speak normally, Matthew added, "You're always alone in the cafeteria; I wondered if you were just a social outcast or something."
"W-well…that...is…" Alfred tried to calm down; although he was sure he couldn't hear his own thoughts over the loud thumping of his heart beat.
"…I've background checked you, as well." Matthew seemed almost terrifying; yet upon closer examination, he showed almost no spitefulness towards Alfred.
"…You like me. I know. I advise that you keep your distance from me, for your own safety."
And that was it. Alfred had, lost.
Or at least, that's what he thought, until Matthew continued speaking; he laughed lightly, "…But I'm amused. If you choose to pursue this any further, I have a proposition for you."
"Huh?" Alfred coughed, "...w-what is it?"
It was humiliating enough that his crush figured him out; and now, all he wanted to do was toy with him? Alfred inwardly admitted to himself, though, the mysterious offer was very tempting…
"If you can get me to at least tolerate you by the end of this term, I'll go out with you."
Alfred agreed.