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.


2. 2

-Adam Lancaster-


Later that same afternoon, my phone beeps. I frown and finally look up from my homework. I pick up the phone and raises an eyebrow at the multiply notifications from Twitter. I never use Twitter, it's really not my think, but I have it anyway. A lot from my school has it too, including those three girls.

"@/kimmygurl mentioned you in a tweet."

It was the first notification. I got it two hours ago, however, at that point I didn't really bother to check it. Suddenly, I wish I had.

"@/AdamLancaster tots look like @/luke5sos! They could be twins!"

I quickly click on the other account she has tagged. I immediately get up from my bed, my books flying everywhere.

"What. The. Hell?" I ask out loud as I stare at the account’s picture. A boy, my age, with a guitar, and on a stage. It was really the stage thing, or the guitar that stick out, it was the fact that he really does look like me. Well, a lot more attractive than me, but the face was the same; the hair color; the lean, broad figure; and when I look through the other pictures; the eyes, too. I look more closely on his account and discover that he is in that band 5 Seconds of Summer. I think I heard one of their songs the other day. It's catchy. I think it had something to do with underwear. I go through the tweets I was getting and the number of followers I have suddenly received. I went from around three-hundred to thirteen-hundred in those two hours.

Most of the tweets were for this Luke guy to notice me, but as I look more closely, they’re really all just about 5 Seconds of Summer. I don't even know who they are, I've never heard of them before. However, most of the girls in my school have for some reason.

I'm really dreading going to school tomorrow.


I've never like going to school, but today just seems like it's even worst. After what happened yesterday and the stuff going on, on Twitter, I'm really dreading going.

I walk into the bathroom and runs a hand through my hair just like I do every morning. I look at myself in the mirror and just stares at the person looking back at me. We look both very alike and very different. Luke’s hair is styled; mine is not, Luke’s lip is pierced; mine isn’t, he can sing; I can’t, he is a professional on guitar; I wish I was, he seems genuinely happy; I don’t. I sigh and splashes some cold water in my face. The only thing we seems to have in common is our choice of clothing. I dress in black skinny jeans and a black Green day shirt. On my feet, I have my signature black converse with black laces. I look at myself in the mirror and stuffs my hands into the pockets of my jeans. Black, just the way I like it.

Come on Adam! You can do this, just ignore them, this will blow off eventually, I try to reassure myself. I wish it was that easy. I sigh, grab my phone and slides it in the back pocket of my jeans. I walk down the stairs, walk out of the empty house and locks the front door behind me. I pluck in my headphone and pick shuffle on my phone. I turn the volume up loud so I’m blocking out the world around me. A horrible familiar guitar riff starts and I immediately switch song.


The minute I walks into school I hear the whispers.

"Look, it's him." I keep my head low and my headphones hanging around my neck. My hands are still tugged deeply into my pockets. I walk to my locker, click in the combination and take an unwanted step back. An uncountable number of notes fall out of my locker and onto the floor, a lot of them still laying in my locker. I am overwhelmed with the many different smells of perfume as I go to grab one of them and opened it. I immediately regret it.

"Hey, Adam, right? I hear you're like rich and like have this really great family. You wanna hang out some time?"

P.S love your outfit.

-Cindy from Math."

I sigh and let it fall to the floor. I grab my books and lett the notes in the way fall aimlessly to the floor. I slam my locker shut and walk to first period.

I already hate this. I like staying the background, I'm not an outgoing person, and I'm definitely not what or who they want me to be. I bit my lip as I walk into the classroom, feeling all eyes on me. I find an empty seat in the back and almost sink under the table in embarrassment. I'm not very fond of this attention.


I’m walking out of Math when I’m roughly pushed against a group of lockers, again. I wince at the uncomfortable and familiar feeling of a lock piercing its way into my back. I look up at the guys in front of me, one of them right up in my face holding me again the lockers by my shirt.

The football team. I know something like this was going to happen.

"Who do you think you are?" He asks, glaring at me, obviously furious about something.

"What are you talking about?” I ask confused. From the look on his face, I shouldn’t even have answered the question. Before I can form another word, he slams me harshly against the lockers once again, and his fist collides with my face. The unexpected blow catches me off guard and I’m sent to the hard, dirty floors. I groan in pain, my jaw throbbing. Kicks and punches are being thrown at me from different angles, from different people. They kick and punch me in my stomach, in my face and rips.

"That's what you get for stealing our girlfriends!" The same person that talked to me first, yell, kicking me one last time in the rips before walking away. The crowd that was gathered around vanishes and continues on with their day.

Girlfriends? What did he mean by 'stealing their girlfriends'? He couldn’t possibly be referring to all the notes in my locker, could her? Of course, he is.

The last bell rings and the halls are officially empty. All the students have gone to their finally period of the day. I’m still laying on the ground, on my back this time. I winch when I try to sit up. Eventually, I get up and support the most of my weight on the lockers beside me. I lean against some of them and sigh heavily, wincing slightly. This is going to hurt even more tomorrow.

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