My Simplicities

A story about a girl with trust issues, and a complicated past. And a boy who is trying to become friends with her and make her new life in New York just a little easier. But will they become more than friends or will they become worst enemies in the process?


4. Maxwell

I walk into the class room, it has been a week since the panic attack. Yesterday I got the shit from my dealer, as he tried to flirt with me only to be shot down again. Zach never showed up to my house after we finished the project, thank god. So now I just sit in the back of the room of my first period class ignoring him until the last class of the day. Today the kid who gave me the pills sat next to me again, he doesn't say much, close to nothing at all. Just glances at me now and again then goes back to trying to follow the lesson. Except today he walked in turned to me and said hi, fuck...
"Hey my name is Maxwell, what's yours?" He asks puffing out his chest lightly. He is making himself seem stronger and more valuable as a boyfriend. Annoying...
"Alex." I mutter tapping my pencil between my two fore and middle finger hitting my thumb.
"Aw no need to be shy. I am just trying to be friendly, you know like a classmate." He leans in just a little bit to close the space between us, I can feel his breath almost hot and heavy almost thick. I cringe a little trying to get back to the cooler air that once brushed against my body.
I look him up and down, trying to analyze anything I can off of him that would some how help me in this situation. Nothing is readable really mainly just gibberish about girlfriends, family, sports, social status, and grades. 
"Still quiet I see. I hope you like what you see though, I mean you are looking awfully fondly at me." He flexes a little, just enough for me to notice. I narrow my gaze down to a stern glare almost. throw a strand of hair off my shoulder then look him dead in the eye. I am not going to deal with his dumb ass egotistical attitude, if he think I will he has another thing coming.
"Sorry but is there a crime against being quiet. And I am just trying to see if the dogs bark matches the bite, so far it really doesn't." I say my personality shifting to my darker side. I am not in the mood for some egotistical jock, if he tries to think I am in the mood for his bullshit, he has it coming to him.
"Damn, the little girl got a tongue. And I think my bark matches my bite just fine otherwise why bark, if I can't match it?" 
"Because you got an ego that thinks it rules the world, little man." Difference between his and my own ego is my bark matches my bite. My eyes are shifting to meet his own bright gold ones, a smirk flickering across his eyes and enters his mouth with a slow introduction. 
"Aw, come on, you can't tell me that you don't have a similar ego while you say these harsh things." His smile is toying across his face, egging me on. 
"Well at least my ego matches with what I pack behind it, so please just shut up." I spit these words as if they were venom to my own soul. 
Turning in my chair I face the teacher, who has taken stand at the front of the class room. Her bitch posture, perfect figure, golden blonde hair, paired with piercing green gold eyes. Today her pastel blue blouse and creme color pencil skirt are looking astonishingly good on her. Some how the part of me that loves girls flares up, I can't help but goggle at her, she has this sweet but bitchy demeanor. I fucking hate her but I also love her, not as a teacher or even a person but as eye candy. It's weird to admit to even my self but I love girls and guys, always have always will hands down and to be honest if anyone gives me shit for it. Fuck them. So as the class drags on and I can feel the eyes of boys and a few select girls tearing the class off the teacher or should I say Mrs. Jackerlane. As usual assigning no homework and we all leave as the bell sounds learning no new information. Her class, Ancient Civilizations we learn nothing from, I question how I will even pass the midterms. Though I have a 100% so I am not complaining. 
Walking to my next class Maxwell following close behind until he has to enter his own class room. I enter my next class, New Age Arts this school has the oddest classes but the graduation rate is sky high because of the unique classes they teach. Students are given a test in the beginning of the year to tell them what classes they would go with best then they pick from the list. I got New Age Arts which all we do is pick our favorite form of art, or craft we adore and we do it all year long for a grade. I do practically everything except sculpting, I don't like it though I am good at it. I take no pleasure in clay and the mess it creates, if I want a messy medium I will take painting over it any day. Today I walk to the tattooing section and grab a silicon arm I have been working on. It's a Van Gogh style inspired painting with a surrealism twist. It was like Picasso and Van Gogh came together in a painting, the twists and turns of the gears coming out of a sunflower and bursts of night. The gears met in the bottom of the sleeve and created a mechanic version of a human arm. It was amazing in my opinion and apparently my teachers, since when I wanted to trash the idea about 30 min through the project he forced me to finish for a 80 point assignment. I swear that teacher thinks I will be the next tattooing Picasso, Divinchi, Duchamp, or Van Gogh. 
After working on the star bursts outline, coloring, and highlights the bell rings. Sighing I place the arm back into a cubby with my name on it. The rough cheaply made door sliding along my fingers, the splintering wood threatening to pierce my soft skin. Setting the soft almost skin like textured arm into the cubby and close the door. Locking it and setting my key onto the teachers desk, his hopeful smile and dim blue eyes giving me a look of optimism. I give a faint ghost of a smile back and leave the room putting my head down I walk to my next class. My thoughts wandering to the tattoo, Maxwell, Zach, Evangeline, and then float to myself. Questioning what I am doing, what I plan to do, why I am not whoring around already? In all truthfulness I feel like I have no control over what is going on. Sure things are a lot calmer they are a steadier flow of options and events, but they are random and like bottle rockets. Firing off into the warm summer air, you expect it to explode, but no matter how much expecting you hold for it to explode in the air it still shocks you when it explodes. I don't like it. I liked knowing who I was going to or already banging, what parties I was going to attend, what drugs I was going to buy and how much I was going to buy. I liked knowing but now it is so random and unplanned for it is throwing me off. I crave the control, sure I know ways I could get it, like starvation and bulimia, cutting, drugs, binge drinking, smoking, trust me I know. But I have no need to cut, no need to purge, starve, buy the mass amounts of hard drugs, or try to find someone to buy the cigarettes or mary jane. So instead I wander, moving through the motions and everyday activities. Slowly letting my limbs move, music pounding into my ear drums drowning out my thoughts. I am a robot. A shell of a human, something people describe they are when they have severe depression, I mean look on Tumblr it is all over. 
Maybe I am depressed and just don't know it... no I don't feel sad or numb really. I still feel joy, and dopamine but I just don't experience it like i used to. Of course when I did I was on drugs normally but, now I know it's there but my body just doesn't want to recognize its existence. I am in an odd limbo really. 
I take my seat in my next class and let my thoughts completely envelop me ignoring my teacher and class mates completely. I don't feel myself doze off, if I even did. I just remember waking up passed out of the class room floor surrounded by students with looks of shock and worry on their faces. The teacher runs up he is worried, petrified even. He tells me not to move until I feel ready, his words feeling like they are having to travel across a football field. I grasp my hair letting the ebony strands fall into my eyes messily, My head is spinning, I feel like I am standing though I can feel the ground on my shoulder and side. I slowly get into a sitting position my head pounding heart beating frantically, I feel like a mouse it is pounding so quickly. The teacher asks me something and then I feel my head go hot, like a hot water bottle was placed on it. Then everything goes black, I wake up in my teachers arms and he is carrying me down to the nurse I think. I am breaking out in a cold sweat and shaking, I used to get this a lot in rehab the sweats someone called it. I close my eyes my head spinning again, letting it fall on the teachers chest. I know I am at the nurses when I feel my bods set down on a soft surface and a blanket drawn over me. I hear the nurse calling someone, probably my sister. Shit.... 
Once my body calms down my sister is bursting through the nurses door, she was getting back today anyways so, this is wonderful. The nurse explains what happened to the teacher, my sister runs into the room I don't open my eyes. I fell asleep again and now I am drowsy I am nauseous, but I am alive right. Evangeline helps me up and offers me water hugging me tightly. I numbly hug back lightly as she grabs my things then asks Jeff her boyfriend to carry me. Jeff sweeps me up, inhaling the peppermint and sage sent that now permeates where I live. Since he moved in after they got engaged he has literately permeated the sent of our home. Not that I mind but I am not terribly fond of the mixture of sage and peppermint. They carry me to the complex and lay me on the bed, only to see the tequila bottles on the floor. Evangeline is infuriated naturally, but it is not a fight she wants to pick with me in this state. Jeff and her exchange a few words then walk downstairs. A few hours later I wake up again, fully awake it looks around seven at night. I rub the back of my neck and sit up in my bed. Yawning I stretch my limbs and then slowly get up, a glass of water sitting on the bedside table, I clutch it and gulp it down. My legs feel like lead, and I mean lead 1000000 pounds of it. I don't leave my room just sitting up there for the rest of the night sounds amazing, and besides if I left i would walk straight into a fight and no use doing that.


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