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Romance Story

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Romance Story

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Don&#039;t notice me... Don&#039;t notice me.<br /> Had he seen me watching Heather? Was he waiting for my reaction?<br /> I felt some sweat began to dampen my hands. Hayden surveyed people like I did; the wolf always kept on eye on the herd. And I might have just mistakenly caught his interest. Panic began to engulf my internal system.<br /> *********<br /> I draw the people I hate at school. I see the masks everywhere, just walking down the halls with their falsified personalities; their projected smiles and charms... even though secretly, behind each other&#039;s backs, they&#039;re cheating and spreading rumors and destroying the other&#039;s social status. And then I see them in the bathrooms, crying and puking up the last of what is already nauseating cafeteria food; because word got around that they gained weight or that they didn&#039;t have a perfect body.<br /> And there I sit, watching point blank, as this disturbing and chaotic institute houses all these hormonal schizophrenics, still convincing us all it&#039;s a high school and not Asylum. Those fabricated and altered personas around me seem to be never ending. Perhaps directors and movie producers should come here for their casting roles. Our drama club sucks ass, but the fake smiling masks and happy giddy girls that walk arm in arm are the masters of the deceiving world.<br /> Of course I see through all of this, not that it&#039;s that hard, because I&#039;ve been here from start to finish. I&#039;ve grown up with these persons around; have watched their ever changing evolution of lies. Some harmless, but most nauseating none the less. They all seem so scared to show who they truly are- which is why I draw them exactly as that. I draw you because I can see you...<br /> The noise that surrounded me just increased louder as people tried talking over each other in order to be heard. A dozen voices mixed into the air and only slight random words distinguished themselves against the rumble.<br /> I heard it all, bits and pieces of it, but enough to know what was circulating the school. Most of it was fake; Glenda didn&#039;t get a breast augmentation. Her father might be rich and spoil her, but their relationship was becoming strained. Why wouldn&#039;t it? He was disturbed that his daughter was becoming replicas of his never ending young and lustrous girlfriends.<br /> And even worse, that his own very friends were looking at his daughter in a whole new light now that she evolved her persona lasciviously.<br /> In reality, her bra was padded with those gelatin balloon enhancers that were sold in the lingerie department. I heard her friends freaking out one day because one ruptured and was leaking thanks to a flying locker, and her left breast shrunk down to a B.<br /> A big difference when the other one&#039;s a D.<br /> I shifted my weight to my palm and continued darkening the eyes. Noah barely made the Football team which surprised me. Though he&#039;d been playing football since he was born... he wasn&#039;t the smartest. And yet somehow he managed an act of God and passed his history test, letting every coach and fellow player sigh in relief.<br /> My pencil glided over some shapes, darkening the color and making it stand out greater against the white of the paper. My blonde hair cascaded down and lay on the edges of my paper, just out of reach as my pencil glided by. I made a mental note that Marcus had cheated on Kelly again. For the eighth time.<br /> But that was all the little trivial stuff; the mundane stuff that even I felt reluctant to draw. I wanted more; I patiently waited for word again of the fundraising events that always seemed to come up short. Of the faculty sneaking around to the copy-rooms in their attempt to re-code the cheat sheets; always wanting to have the best grades in their class in hopes a promotion was on the horizon.<br /> But what I truly craved- above all else- was the true self of those around me. Not the cheating, not the fake rumors... not the pathetic babble that could be heard in the air.<br /> No, what I wanted was hidden in their actions, subliminal movements and messages that meant so much more. What I wanted was the thing that was never meant to be known. And where rumors and gossip helped fuel the basis of each drawing... it was that dark secret my own eyes deciphered that would cast a replica below in a jumbled mess of graphite lines.<br /> I drew what they never wanted to be seen. I drew the truth of who they were.<br /> A voice was trying to be heard over the noise and I glanced up to see our small little man of a teacher, trying to bring order to the room, despite the fact no one was really listening. My eyes slowly traced back down to my paper again and my hand resumed its work as it sketched new angles and lines.<br /> I heard more noise and my eyes glanced under their lashes to see that Glenda had indeed blessed us with her presence. Of course all word of her breast augmentation stopped, but I knew she didn&#039;t mind the attention. The teacher took advantage of the quick stop of chatter and stuttered his voice into existence. &quot;Stu...students... students please...&quot;<br /> Everyone mumbled and groaned as they knew the lesson was about to begin. Glenda made her way towards her friends whom my cynical mind named the catfish gang. I watched those abnormally plumped glossy lips and those soundly blank eyes; all too like my gold fish back home, Sir Brown.<br /> Glenda sat down next to those girls while leaning back a little more than necessary; her breasts seeming to press tighter into her shirt. The atmosphere of the room seemed to change subtlety. I could almost taste the heavy breaths of the males bedside me; I could almost hear the swallowing throats of those lost to her trance.<br /> &quot;Students if you will...&quot;<br /> I gently put down my pencil before closing my sketch book.<br /> My eyes blankly absorbed those departing images;She tried to hide her face which bore no makeup, washed away, as she floated just beneath the water&#039;s surface. Her father was calling to her while he cried within his boat, but as he tried to reach into the water to save her, he froze at her distorted image dancing under the liquid&#039;s movement. Glenda just looked too much like the lustrous sins he sought in others. He couldn&#039;t grasp what felt like an image of his mistress. What happened to his little girl? He couldn&#039;t save her from what she choices she had made, from the actions she had done.<br /> Glenda knew this; knew how others saw her, but she couldn&#039;t manage to save herself... to change herself. This was the only way to be seen. Overly sexualized was the only way to be noticed. Even if she drowned under the weight of it.<br /> It was her fake bra that was gushing water amongst the school beneath- drowning all the oblivious and idiotic students against its depths. Only the catfish gang seemed to swim and relish in liquid that kept them afloat. Only those girls could thrive within the misery of another.<br /> All the other people had bubbles escaping their lips as the last of the oxygen left their bodies and rose to the surface. The air filled spheres rose through the mess and soon coordinated themselves into thought bubbles; the ending breath becoming what was truly a waste of their last thought.<br /> &quot;Her breasts look so real, she&#039;s so lucky,&quot;<br /> There they sunk to the bottom of their own ignorance- shadowed by a disturbed and regretful father.<br /> My eyes curve over one other sole survivor who I draw randomly and regularly because of my relative interest for him. I&#039;ve come to understand that he never truly gives in to the rumors amiss because he never fits in with anything but his imaginary friends and old star wars figurines.<br /> The page finished folding over the loner kid- the boy who hides himself under the bleachers but yet no one knew who he was; we only saw him at assemblies. But on my paper, he gathers the bodies in a happy glee... new friends, I suppose, for his lonely world where no one ever seems to be alive.<br /> The book lay shut and all reality faded into this fiction before me, and I heard its verses ring aloud as whispers quietly rose; &quot;I wish I was Glenda, god she&#039;s got like everything going for her... it&#039;s not fair.&quot;<br /> I thought about the girl in my notebook who had no false eyelashes or tanned skin to hide behind.<br /> Did I ever mention I drew people for who they truly were? Yes? Then we don&#039;t have a problem.<br /> Welcome to my life.<br /> ******<br /> The class felt different- like a foreign energy had entered the room and the hairs on my arms and neck rose slightly in response to the movement; for I knew who it was. I swallowed dryly against the immediate disgust I felt whenever I had to share the same air as him. And here I thought he was skipping again.<br /> &quot;You&#039;re late Hayden.&quot; Mr. Garcias growled from his spot in the corner of the room. My jaw ground a little tighter as I tried to ignore the noises and resume my test.<br /> &quot;Oh, I&#039;m not, Mr. Garcias. Another staff member has issued an excuse for me.&quot; The class giggled as the deep voice prodded lightly on tense air. Everyone knew you never talked back to Mr. Garcias. Our teacher was not known for his tolerance or patience. Especially if you wanted your grade to survive.<br /> &quot;There&#039;s no excuse! You know the rules for this class, if you miss a test you FAIL the test. The tardy bell rang five minutes ago and I&#039;ve already passed them out. So guess what? You&#039;ve failed.&quot;<br /> &quot;Again,&quot; A dry, sardonic voice mocked, &quot;I have an issued excuse from another staff member.&quot;<br /> I could only imagine my teacher twitching at the words and his veins rising to his reddened forehead. I let go of my pencil and I rubbed my temples firmly. There were a couple of gasps and inhales from whatever the class saw before them. And then they all started laughing or chuckling again.<br /> There it was.<br /> That distinct sound of my peer&#039;s pathetic minds; the wretched chime of them worshiping the ground that man walked on. And his voice seemed to tumble over my thoughts and break the rhythm of my sanity.<br /> I wanted my escape... I grabbed my sketchbook and flipped it open. I knew Mr. Garcia&#039;s would fail me in an instant if he saw this- but he was distracted and my hands craved the paper. An image of an old drawing presented itself, half finished, yet still extensively drawn. My pencil rose against the paper as my pencil lead dragged its point through the white surface. An instant wave of release ran through my veins.<br /> &quot;There&#039;s no &quot;issued excuse&quot; unless it&#039;s from me! And I&#039;m not giving you anything. You&#039;re late. You&#039;ve failed this test by not showing up when it&#039;s your responsibility to be here on time. And you weren&#039;t! I don&#039;t give a damn what another staff member says!&quot; Our teacher&#039;s angry voice shook through the air.<br /> &quot;Aw, is that so. Then I&#039;ll turn around and talk with Mr. Graymer again.&quot; The class grew silent as he mentioned our vice principal&#039;s name, &quot;After all, it was he who excused me.&quot;<br /> There was confusion in the wake of Hayden&#039;s words. I finally heard Mr. Garcias&#039; voice mumble in the air, trying to understand what he had heard. The insect had been caught in the web. &quot;Mr. Graymer?&quot;<br /> &quot;Yes.&quot; The younger male answered, &quot;He saw me helping a teacher today and he personally issued me an excuse for being tardy. But I&#039;ll let him know you won&#039;t accept it.&quot;<br /> &quot;No, no. You&#039;re fine!&quot; Mr. Garcias said a little too urgent. Mr. Graymer had already been scrutinizing Mr. Garcias for the amount of complaints he&#039;s received for his harsh teaching ethics. I knew this because the front office let that babble slip during one of their gossip huddles. They seemed to have forgotten I was around the corner submitting my form for a graduation gown.<br /> Mr. Garcias began scribbling something onto the papers on his desk, all the while whispers and mirth hummed in the back air. I wondered if any of Hayden&#039;s story had even happened. I wondered, if in reality, that same front office gossip had reached his ears as well. He had guessed too easily the one name that could get him out of this test. But, of course, who would ever question the creature before me?<br /> I almost smiled. Hayden would never just randomly help a teacher.<br /> If only they knew... If only they had an inkling of the truth.<br /> Hayden laughed now, and though most people would assume he was living in the moment and having fun... I could hear it.<br /> I could hear his disgust for everyone before him... his hatred and repulsion. He was laughing at them, all of them. But so well masked, so gentle enough... that those smiling faces in his shadow did nothing but laugh along.<br /> If only they knew....<br /> The boy who was loved and admired by everybody.<br /> The monster who secretly hated them all.<br /> But they didn&#039;t know. None of them had any idea that their most beloved, popular, and heroic figure watched them all beneath malicious eyes. They didn&#039;t know of the other students who had left this school because of him, the coaches and councilors whose careers he had destroyed. They knew none. And so they worshiped him.<br /> That was the difference between Hayden and I; two people deeply aware of the mentality of those around us. I drew those around me, drew their secrets and true selves whenever I got a glimpse of it; though no one would ever see that art. Hayden, on the other hand, lived for chaos, hidden behind a cloak of popularity. He wanted those he despised to burn and he was more than willing to set fire to a stage he helped create.<br /> I tried to focus on the paper below me, but something inside of my hands seemed to tremor slightly. Finally, I glanced up and looked at that man who was the fakest of them all.<br /> Most girls would have swooned at the sight of him. Certainly, anyone meeting him for the first time would have been stunned and left speechless at the sight of him hovering above them; his eyes a steady gaze. Even the other guys of the school still longed to act like him.<br /> He was tall, elegant, had strong features and light brown hair. The sports he partook in left him with small scars and abrasions on his hands and knuckles, but also a predator&#039;s body; deceivingly strong and lean. I knew calling him that was far fetched in words, yet I couldn&#039;t unsee the hunger behind his eyes. Hunger for chaos, hunger for manipulation, hunger for... something.<br /> But I was the only one who could see that. Hayden wore a well-crafted lie; a sharp illusion set against grinning white teeth and emotionless eyes. We were nothing more than dumb sheep to him; his gaze always watching patiently on the people in front of him. But the hunger was always there. The hatred. If you annoyed this man... he would not hesitate to destroy you.<br /> Maybe if I wasn&#039;t so screwed up myself I might have even fallen for his deep laugh- though his eyes never seemed to catch the emotion. But I knew better than that. Steel voided eyes betrayed a wide smile underneath; words spoke something so false that it made me wonder if I really wanted to know what the truth was.

Romance Story

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