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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Teens
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Drama
- Published: 01/17/2014
Andy
Born 1993, F, from IL, United StatesIt’s a new school year, good ole high school, second week of classes. I get to my third class and see this kid sitting by himself. His hair is teased in the back with bangs covering his right eye. He’s also wearing black eye shadow and eyeliner. By far the first time I’ve seen a guy wear make up as good as he does. He’s in all black, super tight jeans and a Black Veil Brides tee.
Some kids at an adjacent table are whispering about him and calling him names. He looks up at me and expects me to pass him by and sit somewhere else. "Fag!” a classmate shouts at him. He turns around and appears to be hurt, but he just turns back and hangs his head a little lower.
“Hey, why don’t you shut your face asshole!” I shout back and sit next to the kid they just made fun of. They all talked among themselves surprised that someone actually spoke up for another person. “Are you sure you want to sit with me? They might start calling you names and pushing you around too..” He said to me.
“No, I’m comfortable right here. With you.” I smiled at him and he peered through his hair to look at me. His eyes studied my face to make sure I wasn’t lying just to be mean to him. "I like your shirt,” I told him, “I wish so bad I could see them live.”
“I saw them like last month when they were in town,” He said smiling back at me.
“And I missed it! How come you didn’t tell me? I wanted to come.”
“I’m sorry. If I had known.. I..”
“Don’t worry about it. My name is Jasmine.”
“I’m Andy.” He smiled slightly. Just slightly, because as soon it seemed genuine he’d look past me and see some jock walking in and stop smiling.
“Are you new Andy? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Yeh, I just started like 3 days ago.” He was looking down afraid someone would see me talking to him.
“Dude, hey. Do people make fun of you everyday? You know you don’t have to take that shit.”
“Yeh... If I say anything back they start saying more hurtful things. So It’s just best I don’t say anything at all...”
“No. Andrew. Look, you’re friends with me now and we fight back ok.” He raised his head and studied my face again. I stretched my arm over to his notebook and drew a smiley face on it and smiled at him. Then, he truly smiled and looked happy. Like he finally had one friend. As he was about to say thanks the teacher started talking so we had to “be quiet and listen”.
After class, Andy and I were headed to lunch. Apparently we had 4 of the same classes and a lunch period. How did I miss this kid for 3 days. He must have really been suffering here all alone.
“Hey, so where’s your locker?” I asked him.
“Just over there by the science classroom.”
“What!”
“Ugh.. 'what!'. what?” He asked confused.
“My locker is opposite yours. Dude, how the heck did I miss you??”
“Haha! I don’t know. My faggyness must have made me blend in.”
“No. You’re not a fag. I’m sure you like girls.”
Before he got to answer there were a ton of papers by his locker. People had written mean things and taped them on his locker. One kid even went to the extent of writing in sharpie marker on his locker. A rage lit in Andy and he went ballistic tearing off the paper and ran into the restroom near his locker. Everyone laughed at him and pointed as he ran past them.
I was thrown aback. It amazed me how much effort people put into making someone’s life miserable. I’d never known my school to be this rude. I mean, I was kind of emo-ly dressed but not to his extent you know. I down played mine a bit. Yeah I got some stares but nothing like this.
“Andy!” I chased after him. I heard a bathroom stall slam and assumed it was him. Of course this is the boys restroom, I couldn’t just barge in there, I'm a girl. I listened for all of 5 seconds at the door and decided to go inside.
“Andy..? Hey Andy.. Are you in here?”
“Go away!”
“Hey. Are you ok?”
“Go away! You’re just like the rest of them. Just pretending to be nice to me to just make fun of me. Leave me alone!”
I didn’t say anything at first. Why are people so mean to him. He’s just different, he’s not hurting anyone as far as I’m concerned.
“Andy, would I be in here if I wanted to make fun of you. I’m here because I’m worried about you. Let me in please.” I heard some sniffling and he murmured something. I couldn’t hear over the radiator.
“Dude, let me in!” I pounded on the door. “Dude I’m coming in.”
I slid under the stall door and found him sitting on the wet floor in the corner by the toilet crying his eyes out. His eye shadow was running down his face. He looked so broken. I scooted over to him and grabbed some tissue.
“Andy. You know babe.. This is not a good look for you. You have eye shadow running down your face, gotta get some primer for that and it won’t come running down your face next time.” I tried to smile and laugh.
He looked at me. His eyes full of water and red, he broke a laugh and wiped some of his tears.
“Haha! I guess you’re right.” He laughed. This was good.
The lunch bell rang and the halls were now empty. We were late and would be written up for sure. You know how anal schools are and your where abouts within them. They for some reason need to know where you are at all times of the day.
“I just can’t do it anymore you know..”
“Do what?” I asked. Afraid of what he might say, I waited for his reply. He lifted his left arm sleeve to reveal some pretty deep wounds. One of them looked like he had to get stitches for it to close. Then he lifted his pant leg a little to show more cuts and marks. I was at a loss for words. There was nothing I could say. I couldn’t tell him to stop because that was something he was feeling, something that he knew the only way to make go away was to cause a different pain. I looked at him and started tearing up myself. Trying to blink away my tears I looked at him and was asking why.
“It’s the only way I know how cope. It’s this feeling of knowing that everyone hates you and wants you dead. Then knowing that if you were... to... you know, die, no one would miss you, or even notice you're gone. This is how I cope with the pain.”
“But..” I still couldn’t say anything. I started crying. Funny thing is, he had stopped crying shortly after I started. Grabbing some tissue I wipped my tears and tried to speak.
“But what?” He asked sliding closer to me. With him only a few inches from me I threw myself onto him and just started crying my eyes out. He sat there confused. I’m sure he was thinking what the hell is wrong with this girl. Placing a hand on my back he attempted to console me. Looking up at him I finally managed to form a sentence.
“...I’d miss you.” I buried my face back into his shoulder and hugged him. He had never had someone care about him so much. Someone he knew for just a few hours in class and in between them actually cared about whether he was here or not. As we sat there on the floor, I felt his head slowly tip down and rest on mine. When I had finally stopped crying, I lifted his left sleeve again to look at his scars. One was fairly fresh and I traced my finger over it. He winced a little. “Sorry.”
Studying his arm there must have been numerous marks generally in the same place, as if he was trying to open an old wound or to make it deeper. My fingers glided over his bruises. Looking at them one last time I kissed his wrist lacing his fingers in mine. We sat there all of lunch in silence with only the constant noise of the radiator in the background. My books sprawled all over the floor, class notes becoming ineligible. I didn’t care about any of it. I only knew that he needed me.
Andy(Jasmine R)
It’s a new school year, good ole high school, second week of classes. I get to my third class and see this kid sitting by himself. His hair is teased in the back with bangs covering his right eye. He’s also wearing black eye shadow and eyeliner. By far the first time I’ve seen a guy wear make up as good as he does. He’s in all black, super tight jeans and a Black Veil Brides tee.
Some kids at an adjacent table are whispering about him and calling him names. He looks up at me and expects me to pass him by and sit somewhere else. "Fag!” a classmate shouts at him. He turns around and appears to be hurt, but he just turns back and hangs his head a little lower.
“Hey, why don’t you shut your face asshole!” I shout back and sit next to the kid they just made fun of. They all talked among themselves surprised that someone actually spoke up for another person. “Are you sure you want to sit with me? They might start calling you names and pushing you around too..” He said to me.
“No, I’m comfortable right here. With you.” I smiled at him and he peered through his hair to look at me. His eyes studied my face to make sure I wasn’t lying just to be mean to him. "I like your shirt,” I told him, “I wish so bad I could see them live.”
“I saw them like last month when they were in town,” He said smiling back at me.
“And I missed it! How come you didn’t tell me? I wanted to come.”
“I’m sorry. If I had known.. I..”
“Don’t worry about it. My name is Jasmine.”
“I’m Andy.” He smiled slightly. Just slightly, because as soon it seemed genuine he’d look past me and see some jock walking in and stop smiling.
“Are you new Andy? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Yeh, I just started like 3 days ago.” He was looking down afraid someone would see me talking to him.
“Dude, hey. Do people make fun of you everyday? You know you don’t have to take that shit.”
“Yeh... If I say anything back they start saying more hurtful things. So It’s just best I don’t say anything at all...”
“No. Andrew. Look, you’re friends with me now and we fight back ok.” He raised his head and studied my face again. I stretched my arm over to his notebook and drew a smiley face on it and smiled at him. Then, he truly smiled and looked happy. Like he finally had one friend. As he was about to say thanks the teacher started talking so we had to “be quiet and listen”.
After class, Andy and I were headed to lunch. Apparently we had 4 of the same classes and a lunch period. How did I miss this kid for 3 days. He must have really been suffering here all alone.
“Hey, so where’s your locker?” I asked him.
“Just over there by the science classroom.”
“What!”
“Ugh.. 'what!'. what?” He asked confused.
“My locker is opposite yours. Dude, how the heck did I miss you??”
“Haha! I don’t know. My faggyness must have made me blend in.”
“No. You’re not a fag. I’m sure you like girls.”
Before he got to answer there were a ton of papers by his locker. People had written mean things and taped them on his locker. One kid even went to the extent of writing in sharpie marker on his locker. A rage lit in Andy and he went ballistic tearing off the paper and ran into the restroom near his locker. Everyone laughed at him and pointed as he ran past them.
I was thrown aback. It amazed me how much effort people put into making someone’s life miserable. I’d never known my school to be this rude. I mean, I was kind of emo-ly dressed but not to his extent you know. I down played mine a bit. Yeah I got some stares but nothing like this.
“Andy!” I chased after him. I heard a bathroom stall slam and assumed it was him. Of course this is the boys restroom, I couldn’t just barge in there, I'm a girl. I listened for all of 5 seconds at the door and decided to go inside.
“Andy..? Hey Andy.. Are you in here?”
“Go away!”
“Hey. Are you ok?”
“Go away! You’re just like the rest of them. Just pretending to be nice to me to just make fun of me. Leave me alone!”
I didn’t say anything at first. Why are people so mean to him. He’s just different, he’s not hurting anyone as far as I’m concerned.
“Andy, would I be in here if I wanted to make fun of you. I’m here because I’m worried about you. Let me in please.” I heard some sniffling and he murmured something. I couldn’t hear over the radiator.
“Dude, let me in!” I pounded on the door. “Dude I’m coming in.”
I slid under the stall door and found him sitting on the wet floor in the corner by the toilet crying his eyes out. His eye shadow was running down his face. He looked so broken. I scooted over to him and grabbed some tissue.
“Andy. You know babe.. This is not a good look for you. You have eye shadow running down your face, gotta get some primer for that and it won’t come running down your face next time.” I tried to smile and laugh.
He looked at me. His eyes full of water and red, he broke a laugh and wiped some of his tears.
“Haha! I guess you’re right.” He laughed. This was good.
The lunch bell rang and the halls were now empty. We were late and would be written up for sure. You know how anal schools are and your where abouts within them. They for some reason need to know where you are at all times of the day.
“I just can’t do it anymore you know..”
“Do what?” I asked. Afraid of what he might say, I waited for his reply. He lifted his left arm sleeve to reveal some pretty deep wounds. One of them looked like he had to get stitches for it to close. Then he lifted his pant leg a little to show more cuts and marks. I was at a loss for words. There was nothing I could say. I couldn’t tell him to stop because that was something he was feeling, something that he knew the only way to make go away was to cause a different pain. I looked at him and started tearing up myself. Trying to blink away my tears I looked at him and was asking why.
“It’s the only way I know how cope. It’s this feeling of knowing that everyone hates you and wants you dead. Then knowing that if you were... to... you know, die, no one would miss you, or even notice you're gone. This is how I cope with the pain.”
“But..” I still couldn’t say anything. I started crying. Funny thing is, he had stopped crying shortly after I started. Grabbing some tissue I wipped my tears and tried to speak.
“But what?” He asked sliding closer to me. With him only a few inches from me I threw myself onto him and just started crying my eyes out. He sat there confused. I’m sure he was thinking what the hell is wrong with this girl. Placing a hand on my back he attempted to console me. Looking up at him I finally managed to form a sentence.
“...I’d miss you.” I buried my face back into his shoulder and hugged him. He had never had someone care about him so much. Someone he knew for just a few hours in class and in between them actually cared about whether he was here or not. As we sat there on the floor, I felt his head slowly tip down and rest on mine. When I had finally stopped crying, I lifted his left sleeve again to look at his scars. One was fairly fresh and I traced my finger over it. He winced a little. “Sorry.”
Studying his arm there must have been numerous marks generally in the same place, as if he was trying to open an old wound or to make it deeper. My fingers glided over his bruises. Looking at them one last time I kissed his wrist lacing his fingers in mine. We sat there all of lunch in silence with only the constant noise of the radiator in the background. My books sprawled all over the floor, class notes becoming ineligible. I didn’t care about any of it. I only knew that he needed me.
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