This was the original beginning of the story. I found it in my notebook from months ago, and decided to type it up. Im thinking it could be an extra thing, like before the story begins, but technicalities.
Spencer looked at himself in the mirror: brown hair, stupid glasses, freckles on his nose; he looked completely ordinary, except for is eyes. Yep his eyes were the only thing that stood out on him, his stupid hazel-green eyes. Yes, according to the internet green eyes were the rarest eye colour in the world, and he should feel special, but he hated them.
"Spencer, hurry up, you're not the only one that uses a bathroom y'know," a voice said from behind the door, interrupting his thoughts. He sighed, splashing water on his face.
Morning were always like this, they were always annoying. Spencer was always the first one up, but his stupid brain kept him in the bathroom for hours, thinking about unimportant things. By now it was routine, he'd wake up and go for a wizz, and he'd stay there until Jessica came banging on the door. He'd look at his stupid face and think of how stupid he was. Maybe that's why he always went to school in a bad mood.
He'd open the bathroom door only to be met with angry green eyes, almost identical to his own- if eyes weren't already identical- the two of them would glare at each other until Jessica decided to mutter something about him needing a girlfriend, and then push past him.
It happened everyday, he was beginning to tire of it. He opened the bathroom door, but this time he walked right past Jessica, back into his own room; he didn't want to deal with this, not today at least.
He glanced around the room and noticed everything that was always there, but never really paid attention to; the red walls that were almost completely hidden behind movie posters, a shelf in the left corner filled with movies, and a shelf in the right filled with everything else- books, videos games, those dolls that Jessica swore were dolls, but were actually action figures, and countless pieces of paper. He glanced to his desk; very plain and wooden with an equally plain lamp sitting on top, and his laptop, which had a collection of stickers stuck on random places.
He wondered. He wondered if those jerks at school were right, he was going to be 18 soon, but his room still looked vaguely similar to the way it did when he was 10. A world full of cameras and films; video games and anime, special effects and movie props, would he really grow up to be some lonely geek? Still living in his parents basement, chasing this childish dream he had, to one day make movies and be on the big screen? What did his future hold for him, would he really be going to film school? Could he even get in?
Suddenly he heard a noise, it was a beep- no a horn, the sound of a car horn, and it sounded a lot like Shanilla's. It couldn't be- could it?
Spencer doubtfully looked at his watch, there's no way it's 7 yet, but sure enough the clock read 07:05.
Shit!
He quickly grabbed a pair of jeans from his floor - they probably hadn't been washed in weeks- and a big ass Adventure Time t- shirt his grandma had bought him 2 years ago, insisting he'd 'grow into it'. Apparently she also had a hard time remember how old he was.
He stuck his feet halfway into his worn out converse, grabbed his bag, and ran out the door.
"Just woke up?" Shanilla asked once the boy was in the car.
"No," he answered nervously.
"Oh, so that's just your new look then?" she questioned again, gesturing towards his hair.
"I like it," Rajeev chimed in from the seat beside her.
"Yea, yea." The boy responded.
"We're gonna be late again Spencer," Shanilla reminded.
"And it's all your fault, again," Rajeev joked.
Spencer knew he was just joking, but he still felt bad.
"Just shut up, and drive," Spencer groaned, crossing his arms.
Spencer always wondered if schools sent out some sort of depression wave that instantly made people feel terrible the closer they got a it, and then he'd wonder if he was the only one that felt it.
He made his way to the locker he'd shared with Shanilla and Rajeev, only a realise that he'd forgotten his book at home, so not only was he going to be late, but he'd also be unprepared.
Great.
He paced outside the classroom, he could just skip the class, right? Except he physically couldn't, his body wouldn't let him, so he did the logical thing : attempted to walk in unnoticed.
"Mr. Wright," the teacher, Mr. Bonds, called, "you're late again."
"Now I usually just ignore it," he continued, "but it's been happening so many times lately."
Spencer mentally stabbed himself.
"Is everything alright?"
And maybe it was luck, or something else, but before Spencer had the chance to answer, someone else walked through the door.
"Ahh, Mr. Cohen, I was just telling our friend Spencer here about the importance of being on time, and then you walk in," the teacher says.
Billy gave an awkward smile, and then the 3 of them stood there awkwardly, glancing at each other until Mr. Bonds sighed.
"I hope you two won't be late for detention this Saturday," he added, allowing the two of them to a down.
Reason number 5 why today was a shit day.
"Thanks for making us late again," Shanilla joked later at lunch.
"Yea.." Spencer started, "Sorry." She was probably mad, or at least that's what Spencer thought, but what he didn't know was that she couldn't be angry at him even if she wanted to.
Every since that day they'd met 3 years ago at freshman connection she'd been hopelessly infatuated with him.
"Oooo, what's for lunch?" Rajeev blurted, walking up to the table empty handed.
"How about where's your lunch?" Shanilla asked.
"Well y'see," Rajeev began, but by then Spencer had stopped listening, he took a bite out of his sandwich and his mind was consumed by pointless thoughts.
….
He awoke took a loud alarm.
"Shit!" he muttered, covering his face with a pillow.
He then glared at his clock, it read 7:10 . He had only 5 minutes to get a school, 5 to actually get ready, and 3 for a drive there- it wasn't going to work though.
It took him at least 15 minutes to get ready-gotta have that healthy glow- and school was about 8 minutes away, 5 on a good day, 15 on a bad day. That means he had approximately 0 minutes to get ready; he was going to be late.
He sat in his bed, going through all these things in his head, which was just wasting more time.
He hopped out of bed, and grabbed some jeans out of his drawer, and quickly made his way to the bathroom.
He turned on the shower, pissed, brushed his teeth, washed his face and hair, and managed to get something that should've taken 10 minutes done in 5 (progress)
He dried off quickly, pulled his jeans up, put on his favourite green hoodies, and then slipped his feet into black sneakers.
Walking on the backs of his shoes, he grabbed his bag and keys, and made his way to his van.
He'd named it Viper, a few years ago he'd got from some junkyard workers that he'd been on good terms with. He had them fix it up for him for a small amount of money, and now it was like his best friend, besides his guitar.
He felt something drip on his arms, and realised he hadn't dried his hair, which in terms of the wetness wasn't a big deal, he could just let down all the windows and air dry it. It was the hair itself. Billy had naturally curly hair, (it was more wavy than curly, but closer to curly) which didn't work with him.
Once he put the car in gear, he let down all the windows, and attempted to comb through his hair, but this got him stopped by the police, which resulted in him getting a ticket, he had a lot of those, which would later get his license suspended since he had so many.
Many minutes later he'd finally arrived at the school. It amazed him how many people made it to school late on a daily basis. He'd done it multiple times a week, but on this particular day, things were different.
Mr. Bonds decided to give him detention, it would be his first, like really? Detention for being late? That was like going to jail for sleeping in the park: pointless. He wanted to do something big, but alas there was no way around it.
He stopped outside the door, he could just skip the period and then he wouldn't technically be considered late, he'd just have an absence.
He smirked to himself, shoved his hands in his pocket and turned around.
"Ahh, Mr. Cohen?" the voice said. It was Ponzi.
"And why are we walking away from class?"
"Uhh, you see, I was just looking for my," he paused momentarily, "my earring."
He grabbed his ear, and began searching the ground for something that wasn't there.
Ponzi eyed the boy suspiciously, and after a while of Watching him search aimlessly on the ground yelled. "Just get to class."
Busted.
So this was it, this is how he was gonna go down, he'd gotten away with a countless number pranks, but being late for class is what would get him, it was only an hour, but still.
He laughed ironically, and opened the classroom door.
He walked in to see everyone already staring, but it wasn't at him, it was at that nerdy kid that never said anything.
Now was his chance, the gods were being godly, and sending him help. He slowly got close to the wall, and
"Ahh, Mr. Cohen, I was just telling our friend Spencer here about the importance of being on time, and then you walk in."
Busted once more.
He gave an awkward smile, and started awkwardly between the boy now known as Spencer, and Mr. Bonds.
Mr. Bonds then sighed, and gestured for the two of them to sit down.
"I hope you two won't be late for detention this Saturday," he added, and then they sat.
He watched the boy go all the way to the back of the class and sit, he looked nervous.
He then focused his attention to the front of the class.
"So on page 113," the teacher started, but Billy'd had an idea.
Maybe that's why…
He glanced back at the boy, and sure enough he didn't have his book out.
Once the teacher's back was turned, he got up quietly, and walked over to where Spencer sat, handing him his book.
The boy looked confused, but mumbled a thanks, and with that he made his way back to his seat before Mr. Bonds was able to see.
He raised his hand quietly, and waited for the teacher to turn around.
"Yes, Mr. Cohen?"
"I uh, left my book at home, so can I borrow one."
Disrupting the class, and being late, Billy was just getting into all types of trouble today, maybe the gods were out to get him instead..
….
He had to keep quiet about it, the detention. He couldn't let anyone know it was because he'd gotten to school late too many times, it'd be hilariously embarrassing.
He'd never hear the end of it from Jessica, every morning she'd make a joke, or some sort of reference to it. And he couldn't let that happen or he'd probably end up stabbing himself.
He stood in his room, looking at himself in the mirror. His stupid beat up shoes, those faded jeans, and that stupid shirt that he loved even though it was too buh and he was 17, and was probably far too old for cartoons (I feel ya, child). He wanted to laugh at himself.
But then he noticed something; he still had that guy's book.
What was that even about? He tried not to make a big deal out of it, but they'd never even ran in the same crew, they lived in completely different worlds, his full of animation and horror and film effects, and his probably a world of rock concerts and smoking and hot girls.
Forcing himself to think about something else he replaced his book with the guys book, he'd return it when he got to detention.
"I'm going.. out," Spencer yelled, holding the book tight in his arms.
"Where ya going sweetie?" his mother called, sticking her head from behind the wall that lead to their kitchen.
"Library, with Shanilla and Rajeev," he lied.
He hopped on the bus, taking a seat in the front, the back was where the rowdy teenagers sat, and even though he too was a teenager, not that kind.
He sat the book down on his lap, much to his dismay, but it was 'proper bus etiquette' and he didn't really feel like being silently judged by strangers because of something he had control over.
Still though, no one ever sat next to him, which both offended and pleased him at the same time.
Nevertheless, Spencer liked bus rides. There was something amazing about being a place where no one knew your name or your story, it made him feel both content, and terrified- but I liked it.
Once he arrived at the school he was surprised to not feel that pang of sadness, and even better; the halls were empty.
He felt nothing for only a moment because then he was met with the door, he was afraid to open it, who knew what lied beyond it.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, temporarily, and opened the door.
When he opened them he mentally sighed, the room wasn't filled with angry faces, or gangbangers, or thugs, or stoners like in the movies; everyone just looked bored.
He decided to sit at the front of the room, away from everyone else to prevent any unwanted company, on others part, not his.
Spencer hated these unorganized room seat arrangements. He preferred being assigned a seat, that way if the person you sat by didn't like you it wasn't your fault, it was just how it was, but in situations like these, you could only blame yourself.
Another surprise was how unrowdy everyone was. There were no paper balls being thrown or yelling, or crying teachers, the teacher sat quietly in front of the room, and the students sat quietly in their seats.
They were free to do anything they pleased as long as it didn't cause any noise, it was actually kind of relaxing.
A few minutes later the guy from class the other day walked in.
Spencer found it a bit funny, he'd gotten detention for being late, and he was late for detention, though only a few minutes.
Their eyes met momentarily, and Billy took a seat in the next row, one desk behind Spencers.
He thought for a moment to give the book back now, but quickly trashed the idea since it would probably get him into trouble, so he sat there.
It soon occurred to him just how short an hour really was. What could be done in an hour? Not much.
1) You could watch 2 television shows, or 4 depending on the duration, but compared to a whole season that wasn't much.
2) You could watch a movie, but you wouldn't be able to even finish it in that amount of time.
3) you could listen to quite a bit of songs in an hour, but that's kind of a waste of time.
4) you could go to a concert for an hour, but if the concert was only an hour it wasn't really worth going to.
5) You could write maybe 10? pages of script in an hour, not counting the revising.
6) You could read a book in an hour if you were an fast reader, or a 4th, if you read slow.
7) You could have a nap.
8) you could build a bookshelf.
9) You could have sex (which he didn't really like to think about, but it's true)
10) You could do maybe a load or two of laundry.
11) You could start editing a video (you wouldn't finish though)
12) You could cook a meal
He continued naming things in his head, and before he knew it detention was over
You could compile a list of things you can do in an hour in an hour.
"Uh, hey," a voice said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"Detentions over."
It was the guy.
"Oh," Spencer said, he fumbled with picking up the book, and then handed it to the boy.
"Thanks again," he said.
"Oh, yea. I forgot about that, but it's no biggie," the boy said, grabbing the book.
"See ya around," he said, and then left.
The bus ride back home made Spencer realise something; detention was a gift from a higher being. Sitting in silence for a hour was a real refresher, it was almost as if nothing existed for a while, and sometimes, maybe, people needed that.