I'm Not a Model

Chapter 16

Stupid English class. Stupid posters about achieving, knowledge and other useless stuff. Stupid shelves with nothing but dictionaries and encyclopedias. Stupid singular desks with wobbly legs.

The assignment is to write a poem, but the damn teacher didn't say what subject, what main idea. I like poetry and all, but writing it is another story. I'm too aggressive to be writing poetry, seems too fucking girlish. Sora's just writing his damn ass off. How does this little twerp write poetry? Okay, he's emo, so it should come naturally to him, I guess. But his poetry isn't about how sad the world is or about cutting his damn wrists.

It's about nature of all things.

… He's gay, so I guess it doesn't really matter.

"You still haven't written anything yet, Riku," Sora leaned over an asked. He sat behind me in English class, and he can just look over my shoulder whenever he wants. "Writing stuff isn't hard, you know. This assignment is an easy A."

I looked back at him, having to turn my body at an awkward angle to glare at him. "Isn't hard? I could've been done five minutes ago if I knew what to write about."

"Write about an aspect of your life that you really like or enjoy," the brat said. I know it seems easy to him, but I'm still stuck at square one. I don't enjoy anything in my life. Well, I enjoy Sora, but I can't write about a guy. I think I'll just write about how much I possibly hate my life. That seems more fitting for someone with as many issues as me. "Doesn't matter, I have something to write now." I turned back around properly in my seat, and proceeded to write my really cliché, angst-ridden, teenage poem.

I had to write about something I hate so…

I'm Not a Model

Don't stare

It's not attractive

Nor is it polite

My personal affairs are no longer personal

There's always a camera

Or a reporter to capture everything about me

Don't make judgments

I'm not nice

I'm not a jerk, either

I'm far from perfect

Don't make it seem as though I am

There's so many cracks in me

I'm surprised I'm not completely broken yet

Get a closer look

Look at these holes

Someone needs to repair them

I can't do it myself

I'm not a model

I'm not pretty

I'm not fragile

I can't wear whatever label you want me to wear

I'm famous when I have no desire to be

-Riku Alexander

Well, I was done with assignment (even though it doesn't seem to be about anything I hate), but before I could even put the pencil down, the teacher was looking over my shoulder and reading my work. At least it's a teacher I like. She doesn't dress professionally, or act stuck up either. I looked up at her, and she smiled.

Why the hell was she smiling!

"Riku, what a spectacular poem," she announced. The brown haired woman picked it up and asked, "Riku, would you like to read it out loud?"

I could've died right there. No, scratch that, I should've died right there. "No, I don't want it read out loud, and I really don't want to read it at all!" This is the first time she has ever done this to me, she has never been this cruel to me. Why now? Why God, now?

"But Riku, this is such a deep poem. Maybe if you want people to know you a little better, you'd let them hear what you have to say." She was smiling as she walked towards the front of the classroom. This is what I get for liking this hippie of a damn teacher. She wears blue jeans with holes in the knees, and dingy shirts. Yeah, she pretty much has the same taste in fashion as Leon, but that's not the point. She's going to read my poem out loud.

A teacher is going to read my work aloud.

"Wait Ms. Iris, I'll read it, I'm sure Riku won't mind," Sora raised his hand and volunteered. Okay, I suppose this is a little better, but it's far from my liking.

The teacher looked a little surprised, but she gladly let the brunette walk up towards the front on the class. "Wow, so Sora wants to be brave and read this poem. You're being outspoken for once," she said sweetly. Sora just laughed nervously as he took the paper from her.

Secretly, I was strangling Sora in my mind, and I was throwing bricks at Ms. Iris's car. And why the hell was the entire class quiet? Did they really want to hear it? I bet they really wanna hear how stupid I am, see how emo I am.

Good God, I'm like Linkin Park; I don't look remotely emo, but everything I write is as emo as it can get.

"I'm not a model," Sora read loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Don't stare. It's not attractive. Nor is it polite."

… I wish I could roll over and die right now.

"My personal affairs are no longer personal. There's always a camera. Or a reporter to capture everything about me."

I wish I had a butcher knife to gouge out my heart.

"Don't make judgments. I'm not nice. I'm not a jerk, either."

I wished I stayed home and played sick today.

"I'm far from perfect. Don't make it seem as though I am. There's so many cracks in me. I'm surprised I'm not completely broken yet."

I wish Yuffie was here to annihilate my very existence.

"Very good, Sora. That's all you have to read," Ms. Iris said as she patted him on the back. "I think if you read anymore, Riku might throw bricks at my car after school."… How can she say that and smile so idiotically? Hell, I was actually contemplating doing that. My favorite fucking teacher makes absolutely no sense.

The girl who was sitting in her desk next to mine leaned over and said, "Wow, Riku, I had no idea you were so talented at writing." And then she topped off her comment with one of those flirtatious smiles. Another girl who sat a few seats away from me did the same thing, and pretty soon all the girls in the room were throwing compliments at me, each one getting louder as to make sure they were being heard. Times like this make me wish I was born ugly.

"Oh my, look at the time," the teacher said suddenly. "Looks like its already passing time. Students, head to you seventh period class."

Everyone picked up their books to leave, but just as I was about to head out the door, the teacher said, "Riku, you really surprised me today. I really hope to see more of this quality work from you." She smiled again, it almost makes me feel bad since I know I'm not going to be doing quality work for a while.

Sora was out the door before me, so he naturally waited outside the doorway. He asked what did the teacher say, and I said it was nothing. We made our way through the crowds of students to our seventh hour class. And somehow, Yuffie was there before us. Once again, she must've sweet talked the teacher into letting her stay with the Sophomore students even though she was a Junior.

We took to our usual desk, which was just a table made to accommodate two people. Yuffie had already fixated herself on top of it, sitting Indian style.

"Took you guys long enough to get her," she smirked as we put our books down.

"Yuffie, what is your seventh hour class?" I asked as I took a chair and sat down.

"Hmm… Computers, if I remember correctly, or maybe it was that stupid shop class," she said, attempting to sound innocent.

"Then why the hell aren't you there?" I asked sarcastically.

"Teacher doesn't care, and I don't care. I'm fine as long as I get my credits."

"But you don't get credits if you fail the class," Sora pointed out, leaning on the desk.

"I won't fail. If I show up on test days and pass, I'm fine." She sounded so sure about that, I think I'll laugh if she failed the course. "And you two shouldn't be worrying about that. Where's my payment, Riku?" She leaned forward towards my face, which was scowling.

"… Not today, "Sora said, and he was smiling. "I have to stay after school today, so I don't think the three of us will be going anywhere after school today." Sora just saved us for the day, apparently.

Yuffie pouted. "What! No, not fair, I've been waiting all week for this!"

"What the hell are you staying after school for?" I asked. I was curious, he never said a word about it to me.

"Oh, I never told you, Riku? I signed up for orchestra," the brunette smiled apologetically.

"What instrument do you play?" Yuffie asked.

"Flute," he answered. "It's pretty much the easiest to play."

The rest of the hour was kinda boring, and I actually sat there and did most of my homework. Yuffie made herself useful by doing my math homework, but I have no idea if it's all right. She probably put all the wrong answers down just to spite me or something. Sora finished his homework long before us, and just kept himself busy by reading Japanese comic books. Useless twerp, he could at least do some of my homework, too.

Even though Yuffie was still sitting on top of the desk, I put my head down. I was tired and ready to go home. I felt fingers in my hair, not pulling it or anything, but stroking it. I looked up, but Yuffie let her hand remain in my hair.

"Yuffie, what are you doing?" I asked tiredly.

She just smiled. "I'm being a good girlfriend." She had a look in her eye, I've seen it before. Not a bad look, it was like a look of sympathy.

"You look as if you feel sorry for me," I commented quietly.

"I guess I kinda do, but don't let it go to your head, Riku," she said and she tugged lightly on a lock of silver hair. I guess once things quiet done, Yuffie's a pretty decent person when you get right down to it. I looked over in Sora's general direction, and he quickly turns his attention back to his comic book.

I smiled slightly and sighed, "There's no need for you to feel sorry for a bum like me, Yuffie."

"But you look like a wounded puppy. You've been looking a little out of it since this morning," she said.

"It's just one of those days," I replied.

The bell rang, saying it was the end of the school day finally. Yuffie left, going to her own locker while Sora said he had to go the orchestra room. It left me by myself pretty much. Before I left the classroom along with the other students, I looked out the window. The sky was cloudy, most likely preparing the city for rain. It just made the day feel even more depressing.

I went to my locker, and shoved my literature text book and math book into my book bag. I slung my book bag over one shoulder and I slammed my locker shut. I felt sick. I've been terrible since this morning, but it didn't bother me that much then. It was like the feel I get when something bad is going to happen. Something deadly will happen. I know it will, I've had this feeling before.

I headed out of the school building, and it had just started raining. I must've been going slower than I thought, hardly anyone was near the school anymore. I vaguely noticed it was humid. I guess there will be a thunder storm later.

I was at the top of the first stair outside of the main entrance. I stopped right there, someone was behind me.

"… Cloud, what do you want?" I could it was him, he always has this really quiet thing around him, and it oddly makes him stand out.

"You look sad today, Riku." He had the hood of his black hoodie over his head.

"I don't have time for this, Cloud," I said, not even bothering to turn and look at him. I know he was coming closer, I could hear his chucks hitting the pavement as he walked.

He sighed, and I could feel his arms wrap themselves around me. Before I could say anything he quietly said, "You feel terrible because… you've spent a lot of time explaining things, yet no one understands."

Why did it hurt?

"Everyone you've told your story to didn't understand. All they can show is pity and sadness." It was raining harder now. "Until someone tries to comprehend, all you'll get is a dull ache that you've been trying to ignore for the past year."

What ever Cloud has to say shouldn't make this much sense to me. Why was he trying to be nice? Why was he talking as if he understood?

"It was bound to happen," He whispered in my ear, and I didn't try to pull away. "One of these days, you were going to cry for yourself, not anyone else."

He was probably right, maybe that would explain why I was crying now

… Blah, I feel hot. Damn summer and my non-activeness. I really have nothing to say, except this story is going to get darker… and possibly a lot angstier. I hate angst though, I don't like depressing stuff, even I play the emo-ness every now and then.

And you can flame my lame poem. I wrote it for English class and got an A.

… My teacher was an idiot, you don't have to tell me.