Double Hemmings

Adam Lancaster is your typical nerd but without the whole nerd look. He's good in school; always gets straight A's; and he is even what you would define as slightly attractive. Nothing is great about Adams current life.
Six months ago, it was completely fine. It was exactly the way Adam wanted it to be, but events made it impossible for Adam to fully be himself and by himself. At some point on his journey through life, Adam figure out something about himself, that he never even thought was there.

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This is the new version of one of my old movellas. In the start it is much like the other, but it will chance as I continue writing it. I hope you like it.

 

I sigh and look down the hall at my fellow classmates. In the past couple of months, I have been getting this weird feeling whenever I gaze around at them. They are all laughing, gossiping, fighting; just doing regular stuff you would expect from a very large group of teenagers. The feeling just seems to grow deeper as the day’s pas by, and I don’t like it. I really, really don’t like it. People are looking my way for the first time, ever, and to say I’m uncomfortable would be an understatement. I like not being noticed.  

I run a hand through my blond hair and close my locker after me as quiet as possible, not wanting to attract any attention towards myself. Keeping my books close to my chest I walk towards my second period of the day, math. I'm good at math, but I don't necessarily enjoy the subject. Let’s just say it’s a love-hate relationship. I can almost see the door to the classroom when I’m suddenly getting pushed into some of the lockers, violently. I wince as a lock pierce into my back, surely leaving another bruise.

"Watch it, nerd!" Some jock yell at me as he continues down the hall with his “gang”. I sigh and continue towards the classroom door. They didn’t do this half a year ago, it is all a part of the “new thing” and I absolutely hate it. I liked it when I was invisible. There was no stress or anxiety, it was just me, myself and I.

For the rest of the day I walk around alone, occasionally being shoved into the lockers. Some random girl even came up to me and slapped me for no reason whatsoever.

Lunch was the usual. I was sitting alone at the table no one else wants; the one by the trashcans. You easily lose your appetite, but as I normally don’t have one, it doesn’t bother me like it probably should.

The rest of the periods went by like a drag, and by the time of my last period, I was basically already at home, sleeping. 

"Adam! Are you even listening?" My Spanish teacher shouts at me, awakening me from my daydreams. Half a year ago the teachers wouldn’t even pick me. I would be left alone in the corner of the classrooms with no one expecting anything from me. Now it seems like all they ever do.

There are chuckles and giggles and I look around quickly at my laughing classmates and then at the annoyed teacher.

"What?" I ask dumbfound, having absolutely no idea of what is going on, which only make the students around me laugh harder. I sink further into my seat with flaming cheeks. The teacher sighs.

"Adam, get out," she says and point to the door. I just nod my head, and I’m more than happy to get out of this place. I close the door behind me and let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I hate this. I really hate this.

I take in a deep breath, breath out slowly and go to my locker. That was my last period of the day so I grab my stuff and starts my journey home. It’s not that long, only around twenty minutes, but as I have long legs I walk faster, and I’m home fifteen minutes later.

"I'm home!" I yell out when I enter the house. When I don’t get an answer, I sigh and walk up the grand staircase and into my room. My family is what you would define as filthy rich. My parents both have a high income and a busy job so they're never really home, not that I mind that much. However, as an only child, I do miss some company sometimes.

I was that 'oops' child that parents really don’t expect. But here I am at seventeen, rarely ever speaking a word to my own parents. I might as well not have any. You see, that is the problem. I never see them, I just get money thrust into my bank account every month, far more that I could ever spent so over time it makes itself a saving. It is my parents’ money; they are rich not me.  

I sigh as I throw myself on my king-sized bed and cover my eyes with my arms. I hum a familiar tune and softly starts singing the words quietly to myself.

"I'm gonna pick up the pieces,

and build a Lego house.

If things go wrong we can knock it down." 

It is the only few line a sing, the rest I hum softly to myself until the point where I lull myself to sleep.

 

I wake up in the same position I was in, when I fell asleep last night. I turn off my alarm and slowly walk to the bathroom. I glance in the mirror and cringe. I have huge bags under my blue eyes, contrasting the bright color in a disgusting manner. My blond hair is all over the place, just screaming for a bad hair-day. I turn on the shower and strip out off last night’s outfit as I wait for the water to get warm. Finally, I go under the water and do my thing.

I step out of the shower and dry off. I wrap the towel around my hips and look at my semi-dry hair. I don’t really bother to do anything about my hair in the morning, I’m simply just too lazy. So, I run a hand through it and nod to myself. That will have to do.

I walk out of my bathroom and into my walk-in-closet. It's huge, but I barely even use up half the space. I will never have enough clothing or shoes to fill up all the ranks and shelves.

I decide on a pair of skinny black jeans and a plain black t-shirt. On my feet, I choose my worn out black converse with black laces. I take a once over in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the wall and nod in satisfaction. All black, just the way I like it.

I grab my phone and headphones and walk downstairs. No one is home so I walk directly out the door right into the hot Californian air. It is always warm, even at almost eight o'clock on the morning. I start my journey back to school. I put on my headphones and play the billboard top 100. What seems like a band starts to play in my headphones and I hum along to the catchy melody.

As I walked down the hall I notice a group of girls walk up behind me. I step more to the right to let them get past me, but surprisingly they stop right in front of me. I immediately stop walking and I look down the them with a raised eyebrow. The brunette giggle to her red headed friends. Seems like twins to me.

"Can I help you?" I ask, curious as to why they have stopped me from continuing on my way.

"Oh, yes! You can definitely help us," the red head without visible freckles answer and they all hold out papers and pens as if they had rehearsed it beforehand.

"Can we get your autograph?" They ask in unison with loud cheerful giggles. I just stare at them in disbelief.

What the 'effing hell? Are they making fun of me? They can't possibly be serious.

Their choice of words and their loud personalities have gathered the attention of a lot of the students as they’re getting their things for first period.

"No, I don't think so..." I trail off and try to continue my way around them.

"Wait, but why?" They stop me again by walk in front of me. I sigh and shake my head in disbelief.

"Because you're just making fun of me!" I answer and finally get through them. I start to walk to the classroom. Normally, being made fun of doesn't bother me that much, but doing something like this just makes me sick in my stomach.

"Wait! We're serious!" One of them yell after me. I smile humorlessly and turn around to face them one last time.

"Do you think this is funny? Does it make you happy to make fun of me, and embarrass me in from of the student body?" I ask. I can't explain why I'm reacting like this. Normally I would just walk away without saying anything, and then cry in my room late at night: That's just my way of coping with things. So, this feeling is quite foreign to me. The brunette that yelled after me looks at me in shock and feverishly shake her little head.

"No! Of course not! I'm so sorry, Luke, I-I didn't mean it like that!" She stutters, tripping over her own words. I freeze immediately.

"What did you just call me?" I ask in disbelief. Did she seriously just call me Luke? I don't even know anyone named Luke. Her eyes widen as she takes in her mistake.

"So, you're really not him? So-so… I-I…" She trails off, obviously searching for help from her friends.

"What's your name anyway then?" One of the red heads ask me with a frown. I shake my head and sighs a little.

"Adam. Adam Lancaster," I answer and turn around to finally walk to class. Not that they would care anyway.

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