FicWad

High school. It’s probably the worst place you’ll ever be in your teens. You get bullied and picked on and shoved around and its shit.

But it can also be the greatest time of your life. You get random moments when you forget about the math home work due and the fact that nearly all the boys in the foot ball team want to beat you up, and something happens that triggers the chemicals in your brain to make you smile. I don’t know something like that. Don’t ask me about science; I suck at science. I suck at a lot of things.

My random burst of happiness, today, was a piece of paper. An invite, to be exact. An invite to a party on the upcoming weekend. A party I could most definitely go to as my parents were planning on going out of town to visits relatives that day, and wouldn’t know about the party.
And okay, fine. I didn’t exactly get the invite handed to me on a silver platter; I found it on the bathroom floor. It was slightly damn from the strange liquid seeping out from under a stall, but it was legible.

It was the first invite I’ve ever gotten in my life, picked up off of the boys dirty bathroom floor or not, and it felt wonderful.

I made my way to maths, head high, smiling. People were looking at me weird. They were whispering things like; “The emo kids smiling.” “Maybe he cut his wrists again in the bathroom. I saw him go in there.” “Check! Lift up his sleeve.”

I just winked at them, and they scurried.

Maths is shit, just to let you know. As is science and English and French. I suck at that all. Maths the most though. I can’t do shit, and I have no friends in that class to copy off.
Correction, I have no friends in any class.

I guess I never have. I’m sort of an outcast. When I was a kid I would sit in the playground by myself and watch the other kids. They would call me weird, a loner, a loser.
The mocking carried on through high school too, but the insults changed. I was called emo, suicidal, ugly, fat, a waste of space.

You can’t let these bring you down though. You have to stay strong. If you seem like you’re slipping then the bullies have won. You have to stay above them, ignore them, and laugh in their face. That works.

I rest my head on my maths book. Right now I just want to wallow in my happiness of getting a party invite without any more ‘emo’ comments.

“Frank.” Someone’s talking to me. Maybe I should lift my head up off of this table and see who it is. It’s probably just some girl wanting to mock me for never having a girl friend or some other guy mocking me for the same thing. “If you are sleeping, Iero, I will rip your tiny cock off.” I look up now. It’s my math teacher. Yep, pretty much the same as the kids here. Mr. Bass hates me. He hates my guts. He probably hates my family too. Hell, he probably hates a stranger that’s as much as made eye contact with me.

“Yes, sir?” I ask, trying to put on my best I’m-going-to-pretend-to-love-you-in-class-then-laugh-at-you-after voice.

He glares at me. More kids laugh. One of them says another comment about slitting wrists and Mr. Bass cracks a smile. I want to hurl a brick at his face. There’s no bricks around here. I could use my text book instead. It’s pretty heavy.

I lift the text book up in my left hand, judging the weight.

“And what do you expect to do with that?” Mr. Bass asks me. I’d kind of forgotten he was still mad at me.

“Throw it at your face.” I mutter. He hears it. He blinks, trying to find a way to respond to that.

“You... you what?” He takes a step closer. Everyone else is looking at me. I scan the class room, trying to figure out which one of the girls are gonna spread this new piece of juicy gossip the fastest.

There’s a girl sitting in the corner. She has blonde hair, sweeping past her shoulders. She’s got her eyes down, twiddling her fingers around her hair and not paying any attention. She looks up, sees me looking and goes bright red. I look away, wondering why she was red. Maybe she was about to start laughing at the sight of me. I shouldn’t get innocent kids in trouble because of my face. It’s not their fault I’m so damn ugly.

I start giggling to myself, because you know, I’m all mad and that. This infuriates my demonic math teacher further. He’s practically standing on top of my desk now, screaming about disrespect and how lazy I am and such.

Then he stops. He takes a breath, ignoring the snickers of the other students and walks over to his desk. I return to testing the weight of my book. It could possible knock him out, I mean if I hit him from a close enough distance. At least hurt him enough to shock him so I can run out –
“Take this to the headmaster’s office.” Mr. Bass is standing in front of me again. He’s calm now, and holding out a folded piece of paper. “And don’t come back.” I look at him, trying to see if he’s joking or not. I get to… leave math class… early? It hasn’t even been 20 minutes. Is this a joke?

“OUT, NOW, IERO.” It’s not a joke.

I pack up my stuff, sadly dropping my text book into my bag, thinking about the time when I’ll actually hit him with it. I take the note from him, and head towards the exit, a small smile forming. I’m out of here. I actually get to miss maths, I’m free!

The door is closes behind me, and as soon as it clicks shut, I hear something. I hear my maths teacher laughing, actually laughing as he sees me leave.

I walk slowly away from the class room. As I am about the walk down the stairs, I turn back and shout “F YOU MR. BASS. F YOU AND YOUR OVER SIZED NOSE”