Right, firstly, I need to thank these amazing people who are so amazing and brilliant, that this thank you isn't enough. So, virtual love for RaptorIV, nigel small, SIR RCCS,Katerina The Von, Mr. President, carlosgarcia, Nancy, brittney, KakashiWave, Daisuke James, vampirelover29, taeXen, ILoveBTRSpies, Cookie Monster Giggles and obvious, my stalker, MoonbabyAstroRock3r.
When Life Gives You Lemons Gleek Out, I can never finish your name, how it's done properly, without it disappearing when I hit save. So, I shall thank you doing writing it like that, just so you know that you are getting love as well!
Alerts and favourites are always loved, also!
I guess, I'm going to dedicate this chapter to Daisuke James because he gives me insight into my story, showing me parts that I overlooked and totally didn't consider. It's like he lives in my brain, picking up the pieces that I didn't even think about or stepped over. :)
Thirteen Reasons Why
Chapter Twelve; Sweetheart.
His feet pounded against the pavement like mad, each step being a release from the anger. The anger building up inside of him. It wasn't anyone's fault, really, not entirely, anyway. He couldn't put his finger on his emotions, not since this journey began. Since then, his emotions had been chewed up and spat up in a vicious cycle.
But this was something he had to do. James and Lucy, they want to leak the tapes for their own, selfish desire to relieve themselves from the guilt weighing them down. He needed to put things straight, he needed to do things his way, not what James or Lucy or any of the others wanted.
They could be selfish, why couldn't he?
He was definitely torn, there was no denying that. He could relate to wanting to clear a guilty mind. His was full to the brim, full of worries and nerves and sickening guilt, but at the same time, he wanted to do things right.. The way Logan wanted.
No-one listened to him. No-one took notice of his words, his pleas for mercy, his crying or his pain. They all turned their backs on it, including Carlos. Now, they just wanted to trample all over the real meaning of the tapes and the rules Logan created, simply for their own pleasure. Their own selfish needs.
Blinking back the tears stinging at his eyeballs, Carlos looked up at the school, seeing the looming building reaching the sky, the same omnious feeling to it like this morning. His hand dove into his pocket, bringing forth his phone. It was ironic, really. Carlos wasn't massively popular, but at the same time, he wasn't an outsider. Tapping away on the keys, the thoughts pounding at his skull.
He wasn't an outsider. It was almost amusing, really.
He never tried hard to fit in, it just came naturally to him. Having a popular best friend sort of helped, in a way. But now, thinking of it properly, there was no real reason to like Carlos. He was a nice guy, there's no doubting that.. But he didn't strive for the popularity. Mercedes was a cheerleader, keeping the natural order. James and Dak done sports, meaning they kept themselves quite high on the food chain. Lucy was a badass, perfect for where she was. Jo and Kendall were the loved up, cute couple of the school with their musical talents, again, perfect for where they were.
But Carlos. Carlos never done anything. He didn't do any sports or music or drama. He didn't get great grades or completely horrible grades. Average, really. He done nothing to place himself, because in reality, Carlos belonged quite low down. It was simply his personality that kept him high. Ironically, for people like Mercedes, this was completely different.
Because in reality.. Carlos belonged where Logan was forced into. Carlos belonged lower down, where Logan was sheltering from the abuse.
They could have been friends. They could have created a relationship, something Carlos crazily craved so badly with the boy of his dreams.
But it never happened. I guess, that's where the anger came from. Carlos was angry, because deep down, he had many chances to befriend the boy from across the road. He just didn't take it.
A cough brought Carlos back to reality, his head jerking around to see James and Lucy, both looking awkward, both for different reasons. Carlos' eyes connected with James, a certain glistening guilt welling in the taller boy's orbs.
"'Litos, is it really necessary for you to make a meeting?" James asked, his voice clearly threatening to break.
He glared for a moment, trying to focus his eyes on James and Lucy, stood next to him. "Yes James, it's extremely necessary."
"But I-" James pleaded.
"Save it," Carlos closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and giving out a depressed sigh. "Get everyone to meet in the storeroom by the stairs up to Math at the end of the day. By everyone, I mean you two, Camille, Dak, Jo and Kendall, Heather and that bitch you call a girlfriend."
James nodded, allowing his bangs to fall slightly in front of his eyes.
"I have a question, asshole," Lucy seethed. "What if we don't want to? Camille tried to get us to meet up and look what happened, she got a black eye."
"Well, I suggest you get everyone to do as their told," Carlos replied with a smug look. "You aren't going to want to miss the important news."
Before Lucy was retort with a sinister comeback, James elbowed her, passing a glare that spoke a thousand words. Instantly, she grew quieter, as if James had spoken to her through their minds. Carlos looked on at them, his eyebrows furrowing, wondering when they became so close in the friendship department.
They bonded over the torture they dished out. Their help in a teenage boy's suicide.
The thought sickened him. It was hard, looking at people you thought you know. But like an onion, every layer peeled was a new side to a person. Right now, though, it wasn't something that could be positive. In fact, it had quite the opposite effect.
Carlos sighed, waving his hand to dismiss them as he walked back into the school, heading for a tree. He wasn't really ready to do what he was planning, so, time away from them meant time to plan. To plan on the important news he wanted to share.
Finding a lunchtable, Carlos sat down, fishing out the next tape, Number 9, and replacing it quickly. After this, that only left 4 spots. 4 spots, one belonging to Carlos and 3 unknown people. 4 spots, where the last person would get the joys of living through the hell on their own, forced to live with the tapes.
Just 4 spots.
Static filled the headphones as the casette came to life.
Wow, are you still listening to me? I would thought by now that you got bored. Decided to pack it all in and not bother listening to the nerd. The dead kid.
Hey, you didn't care about what I had to say when I had life in my body, why care now that I'm either burned away in dust or buried deep under ground? Oh, that's right, because your conscious is keeping you here. Keeping your ears connected to this casette and my ever, sinister and truthful word. You may have cried, got angry, hit something, complained and whined or told someone. You could have bonded over my misfortune, found new friends that you share hobbies with, people that are just as evil and heartless as you.
Oh, but don't let me take the attention away from the owner of this tape, Stephanie.
Sweetheart, yours will be short. I know, it's heartbreaking, but hey, did you honestly expect me to sit here wasting the last few minutes I have of my time on Earth, talking about such a Barbie Doll like you?
Get over yourself, sweetheart. It's real and unfortunately, that's everything you're not.
Because oh, that's right, if you haven't guessed or clearly skipped the part I just said.. I said last few minutes I have of my time on Earth. That's right, folks. After this tape and once I've recorded the last few, I shall go away and kill myself. How? I'm not sure, yet. I haven't decided.
But I'm sure it will be quick. Quick and hopefully, pretty painless, seeing as I don't think I deserve more pain, not after everything.
But enough about me, let's get back to Stephanie.
We all know Stephanie, right? I mean, who doesn't. She is friends with everybody. The little social whore.
Funny story, actually, because when I said she's friends with everybody, that includes me. Because you know, I am a person, not that many of you treated me like one. See, this happened about a day after the trouble with Kendall and the complete lack of heart from Heather. One day, there I am, keeping my head down low and avoiding all the sniggering and jeering and dirty looks I was getting.
But you stopped me.
You were stood there with the biggest grin on your face, so big, you looked like a clown if you applied the right make-up. You looked so confident and happy.. Everything I wasn't. But no worries, because you were going to fix that, weren't you sweetheart?
Sure, you must remember. If I do, and so far, we can tell I have an amazing memory, then surely you should remember.
You might not have meant it. It might have been a pathetic attempt at being nice. Either way, you couldn't hold up your facade for long.
Carlos' fingers tapped on the wooden table, making a hollow sound. His stomach was twisting and creating knots, sending a wave of pain up his body everytime he tried to focus on something else. It was almost as if his mind wouldn't allow him to zone out and try to think of something different, something that didn't involve the tapes. It was as if his mind was punishing him. Punishing him for being here, listening to these tapes, being another reason.
Sweetheart.
I heard that word so many times when you talked to me. Every other word, you injected it, like it was your catchphrase. You started with something about a party coming up in a week or so, then you mentioned something about the bullying and noticing. If you didn't notice, I zoned out of the conversation the minute it started.
I wasn't being rude, because unlike you guys, I have morals. No. Instead, I was so amazed that you talked to me. That Miss Stephanie King, the greatest and loveable person tograce the halls, was talking to me, despite the rumours and the insults and everything that I got delivered to me.
Then, all of a sudden, you snaked your arm through mine, dragging me down the hall as you carried on talking about the party, the party you were hosting, the party thateveryone was attending.
Remember that party, everyone? Sure you do. A lot happened that night, although, I doubt many of you can muster up enough brain cells to try and recall how it went down. But we'll come back to that in another tape.
But yes, every word you spoke was another thing that I didn't pay attention to. Me? I was too busy focused on the people, glaring at me, some even mumbling vile things to me under their breath. One kid, younger than me, even mouthed about me being a fag. I saw one girl mouthing something about me touching the great Stephanie.
The great Stephanie.
More like the fake Stephanie.
You should know where I'm going with this, right sweetheart? I mean, sure, you even invited me along to this massive party, which yeah, I thought was real sweet of you. Everyone was going to be there, obviously.
You kissed the air near my cheeks, as if you were a celebrity, before skipping down the hall to meet up with your gaggle of girls. Now, the words replayed in my head all day. Every minute, every hour, every lesson, every breath I took.. It was all fall of questions. Questions tap-dancing on my brain. Questions that nagged at me, pinched at my heart and forced my breath to constantly get hitched.
See, sweetheart, I was trying to understand your ulterior motive.
I mean, why invite me, the gay kid with tons of problems and no friends? Hmm?
Then, my heart sunk. I should have seen it coming, well, heard it coming. My gut instinct was telling me that you weren't so real, that the words you said weren't so real, that inviting me to your party wasn't real. But I wanted to believe it. I wanted, so desperately, to believe that I could go to a party, my first party, and have fun. Be normal. Beaccepted.
But no. I was forced to listen in on some stupid, meathead jocks in class. They were whispering, although, not so quietly. I focused in on them, trying to understand. And then.. It made sense.
My gut instinct was right. The questions in my head were right.
"She's only invited him because she feels sorry for him."
"Nah, she's invited him because that way, we can humiliate him in front of everyone."
"Dude, he gets humiliated everyday."
"But at a party, he can't run or hide. He's out in the open."
In all fairness, I can't entirely blame you, seeing as you didn't say these things. But then, something else happened.. Something else you knew about. Something you were involved in and something that got you placed on here. I walked out of class and down the hall, turning my head around the corner to see your gaggle of girls without their leader. They were whispering, gossiping.. About me.
"Ew, why invite the queer?"
"Simple. Stephanie thought it would be brilliant that if he came along, she could get him drunk and get things."
"Get things?"
"Secrets. There's all these rumours, and whilst clearly they are true, it would be nice to get the juicy gossip."
Carlos rose from his seat, checking the watch that clung to his tanned wrist. End of the day would be soon. Time sure does fly by when you're having fun. Blinking at his eyes furiously, trying to hide the fact that he had been on the verge of tears constantly, Carlos made his way towards the school, heading for the meeting spot. His feet seemed a lot heavier, as if he had gained a few pounds just by walking the small distance.
A sickening feeling rose in his stomach as he pushed the door open, noticing quite a few people already in the room, squished together. Kendall and Jo were sat together on a table, holding hands. Jo looked very white, as if she had seen a ghost. Kendall, on the hand, was emotionless. Face as plain as paper.
James, Lucy and Camille sat on the row of chairs, each with different looks. Camille glanced up at Carlos with teary eyes, the vibrant purple mark underneath her eye swelling to a huge size. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Carlos moved in properly, taking centre stage and letting the eyes fall on him.
They were being stupid. Stupid, brainless girls. That's what I thought. What I made myself believe, but then, you strolled into your group and confirmed it. I listened to your words, letting them break away at my fragile self-esteem. You confirmed the truth that you invited me out of a mixture of pity and selfish reasons.
All you wanted from me was the juicy details. Not a friendship, not to be nice. To be selfish.
Stephanie King, you make Number 9. Sweetheart, you were just too fake for my liking. You could have left me alone. You didn't need to bother me. But instead, for your selfish desires and needs, you invited me to a party, all the while knowing that you were just going to get me drunk somehow, so that I would tell you all the juicy, sordid details of my life. Didn't work out though, huh? How about next time, sweetheart, when you want information, you be yourself and not a Barbie doll.
Would make things a lot easier.
Carlos' shaky finger pressed on the pause button. He closed his eyes, clearing all thoughts out of head as he let out a deep sigh, the air blowing though the small parting between his lips. Opening his eyes, he saw everyones' eyes still on him, Dak now having appeared at the doorway, head hung low as he slumped in, falling into a chair near Kendall and Jo.
The Latino's lips parted for a split second, but before uttering a word, Mercedes walked in, her face still as white as this morning. In fairness, by looking at the bunch, you would think they were all seriously ill or in fact, just commited murder.
"Where's Heather?" Carlos croaked slightly.
"She told me to fuck off, so.." James replied quietly, his fingers harshly rubbing together.
"Bitch," Carlos mumbled under his breath. "So, I gues-"
"Why the fuck are we here?" Kendall hissed.
"For fucking obvious reasons, dickhead!" Carlos argued back.
Kendall jumped to his feet, yanking his hand away from Jo. "This is stupid. I shouldn't have to sit here, listening to a fucking lecture from you, like you think you're some sort of god and are better than us just because of Logan."
The words blurred in Carlos' mind. Just because of Logan? What was that supposed to mean?
"I didn't say I was god or in control," Carlos seethed. "I called this meeting for a reason, if you actually took the chance to give me time to explain. Or are you going to pull your knife out on me too? Cause I tell you, you better watch yourself eyebrows."
The dirty blonde glared at him, screwing up his face as he returned to his seat, instantly linking fingers with Jo.
"As I was saying.." Carlos said through another deep sigh. "The reason I wanted to gather everyone together.. Was to.. Say something."
"No shit." Kendall mumbled under his breath.
"Shut the fuck up," James argued from his seat. "Let Carlos talk."
"Why should we? Who does he think he is, bringing us all here?" Jo snapped.
"You know why," James spat. "He is better than us and you all fucking know it!"
Carlos' eyes bulged slightly at James words. He is better than us all?
"What do you mean James?" Carlos asked, his voice on the verge of breaking, due to the nerves.
"What tape are you on?" Camille quietly interjected.
"I'm close to finishing Stephanie's, Number 9.. Why?" Carlos replied.
"Finish it, Carlos." Camille spoke softly, sinking back into her seat.
His heart hammered against his chest as his finger found the play button, hovering over it for a moment before finally sealing the deal. With a tap, the tape hissed, coming back to life like an animal from the dead.
So, we've reached Number 10. Frankly, this one will be a shock to you all.
Please get ready for Number 10, the guy I wish I could see, again.
Carlos Garcia, it's your turn.
His whole body stopped. Every pulse just went quiet. Each pounding of his heart was drowned out by the pounding in his head. The blood that flowed through his body went cold. It was as if the whole world stopped, like it froze on that specific moment, Carlos finding himself finally on the tapes.
Pressure pounding against the back of his eyes, tickling at the eyeballs, until finally, a rush of tears escaped his eyes. His knees gave way as his body tumbled to the floor, hands being brought up to his head. He could feel soft, careful hands rubbing and shaking at his body. Muffled speaking talking to him, shouting at him, soothening him.
But it didn't matter.
He couldn't hear it. Everything was quiet.. So.. Quiet.
He wasn't ready.
Yep, hate to disappoint, but Carlos isn't 13! He's 10!
What's his tape gonna be like? Will it be nice? Sad? Angry? What did Carlos do? How come everyone keeps telling him not to worry? Why does Logan have him on the tapes, despite the possibilities? So many questions, so little time. Oh, don't worry about the meeting.. Carlos did want to say something, but now, obviously, he's going to forget about that. But no worries. You guys will find out what Carlos was going to say, sooner than later.
Can I be evil now and tell you that I won't be updating this story for about a month? No? Okay, well, I'll keep that part to myself then..