| 5 | Brice Solace Purton Is Actually A Huge Fucking Dickhead

***

I sat by my opened window and listened to the rain pour down from the skies. It was 11:38PM, a Sunday evening that was gloomy. I had left Jason's house 2 hours prior, and was met with an angry mother upon arrival towards my new home. It wasn't an "idealistic" way to end off the weekend, but it didn't really matter. I was home now, I was alone, and it was pouring.

The droplets of water sounded like marchers on the roof, calm and collected, synced and wonderful. It was music to my ears, it aided me with thinking about the endless possibilities of life. I had a cigarette in my slender, pale fingers. I twirled it around, nearly burning myself in the process because of the open flame. I didn't care, though, nothing really mattered to me anymore. Life was just some toy—a peasant toy.

My birthday was in about a month or so, December 26th would be when I'd run out of time. I was planning to run away—make a great escape like the legendary Houdini. I didn't have to worry about a wife; I didn't have to worry about my family; I didn't have to worry about anything. I would only worry about myself, that's all that would matter. I finished the cigarette and threw it out the window. I felt the frigid sensation of the water droplets on my exposed skin.

School would be tomorrow; it would be the day when I would put on a new facade that would be polished and shining. I'd make new friends, I'd make something new—and then I would just throw it all away when my birthday would, inconveniently, arrive. I rested my chin against the windowsill. The droplets of rain danced down my face, soaking my fringe and making my vision hazy. It was cold.

My great escape would be something that would be meaningful. It would be well planned, my parents would never catch me. I'll finally be free; I'll finally be free out of a fucking cage that has always bound my arms, my wrist, and my neck. I'll be free from the stress and I'll be free from the ones who were holding me down; who would be holding me back.

I'd miss Isaac and Jason, though, but that's okay. They'd understand—hopefully.

I was twisted; most people would think that I have the perfect life. Most of the time it was t the case—being rich on the exterior doesn't mean you're rich in the mind. I heard thunder clash over the hills, I put my head back indoors and managed to wipe off the water with my purple comforter. It was a bit soggy, but it didn't really matter, it would dry up anyway. I kept the window open and felt the cool breeze against my skin. It tingled.

Ideas were always pumping in my mind. They were like a freshwater river flowing into the ocean during a heavy rainstorm. I couldn't sleep now, I had to do something. As I said earlier, I was sick in the head—twisted perhaps. I was stupid, so stupid. I was ruining my body, I was ruining my lungs with the over-excessive addictions. I was ruining my body by not eating healthy, by not sleeping properly—by not doing anything right. Another clash of lightning roared over the hills. It lit up my darkened room.

I laid down in my bed and put the comforter over my head. The noise didn't drown out. The sound of the heavy raindrops against the rooftop clashed together in harmony, it was like a lullaby. I shut my eyes, attempting to relax. I was going to wake up at 6 tomorrow, then walk to school. I turned to my side and pressed my body against the cool wall, then managed to lull myself to sleep.

***

Maybe I underestimated how normal this school would be, or maybe I was just the crazy one. Sorry to sound cliché—but fucking everything about this school was cliché. From the stereotypes of popular students, to the nerds in the back—everything was just one stupid game that intertwined with each other like a food web.

I was a new student, so everything had to be new to me. Yet, everyone seemed to bland; so stereotypical to say the least. Students with the highest grades were shoved into lockers, girls flaunted in their heels while the lanky boys attempted to catch up with them. Jocks talked about the recent football games while the nonentities next to them tried to budge their way into the conversation. What was this, High School Musical?

Everyone noticed the new kid; the one that smelled like cigarettes, didn't really fit in anywhere, and was adorned in a gray, red faced creeper sweater and some black, ripped skinny jeans. Don't forget those "girly" shoes too—galaxy vans that stood out like a sore thumb with a matching flower crown that galaxy themed as well. Did I mentioned the galaxy backpack? There was a galaxy backpack to match.

That "new kid" was in a multitude of honors classes; Algebra II was an exception. The new kid took Latin classes as well, because who doesn't like Latin?

The new kid; the new kid despises Latin.

So, as I mentioned earlier, I didn't really fit in anywhere. There weren't any outcasts; any kids without any friends to cling onto. They were all in their own respective groups, whether popular or unpopular. I managed to get a firm grasp on who was who in the school, practically based on their appearances. I learned a couple names as well by eavesdropping into some gossip as well.

Mitchell Hughes, and his best friend (more like side hoe) Jerome Aceti, basically run the school. Being those stereotypical jocks and bullies, women practically followed them like moths attracted to a godly light. Apparently, rumors say that Mitchell is a beast in bed, and he has a new "toy" every night. Others say that Jerome is the toy, and that they're dating each other. But then again, how am I suppose to know, I'm just the new kid.

Then there's a guy named Adam Sky Dahlberg, the person that everyone practically likes and knows of. He's a social butterfly, a loudmouth, and a mysterious person as well. He's usually seen around the halls with an emo (everyone I've eavesdropped on said he was an emo) named Tyler Deadlox Ellis. Rumors have it that Adam's father is a rich man from a rich company, and he practically has the money to buy the whole school and turn it into a golf course if he wanted.

A girl named Aphmau was someone of importance as well. Like Adam, she was a social butterfly and friendly to anyone that came her way. She was dating another jock in the school—a guy named Aaron Falconclaw. Many, or most, of the guys in this school claimed to be with her however. Apparently her personality and appearance is "god-like" and no one can get their eyes off her once they meet her. I highly doubt all of this, what stupid stereotypes of a popular girl.

I didn't hear anything about Jason, maybe he was a decently normal human being within the school. Of course, knowing my luck I probably jinxed the whole thing.

It was just about the end of the day when the lunch break finally arrived. I brought my own food today, I managed to make it myself without awkwardly asking my mother to do it. I tried not to be so fancy; it was a peasantry sandwich with melted cheese in the middle. Isaac taught me how to make it a while back, and surprisingly it tastes amazing. Who knew peasantry food could taste so good?

So, I stepped into the cafeteria. I saw Jason sitting at a table that was towards the middle of the room. It was vacant. I sighed with relief as he beckoned for me to sit with him. I happily obliged as I went to go claim my seat at the roundtable.

"Hey Set," Jason greeted as I sat down.

"Set?" I replied.

"I wanted to shorten up your name," he chuckled, taking out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"My name is only four letters," I murmured as I took out my own food.

Jason stiffened up awkwardly as he looked over his shoulder. He turned back to me, his blue eyes shining in the light, "My friends are coming over, they're really excited to meet you."

"Excited? I'm a boring person," I shrugged.

"Everyone thinks you're cute," Jason replied, nudging my arm. I almost choked on my sandwich.

"Cute?" I laughed while rolling my eyes and shaking my head. "Why?"

"I can make a whole list if you want."

"Oh, be my guest and knock yourself out."

"You're short."

"You're no taller than me."

"You're wearing a flower crown—"

"It's a good sense of fashion; it matches my outfit."

"—not to mention the whole aesthetic galaxy theme you got going on."

"I don't normally dress like this, it's only the first day. Well, my first day."

"Your voice is a bit high pitched and cutesy."

"I can lower my voice to sound like batman."

"You look like a child."

"Jason, have you seen yourself? You're practically my twin."

"Your laugh sounds like you're crying and it's hilarious and adorable at the same time."

"I hate my laugh—I can't help it."

"Your hoodie is a bit too oversized."

"There's nothing wrong with a hoodie that goes past your crotch."

"You sit up with perfect posture and you cross your legs while you sit." I looked down at my legs and uncrossed them, then slouched a bit. It caused Jason to laugh; a bright smile that could light up the whole room.

"Your face is round and chubby. It must be soft too, can I pinch your cheeks?" Jason edged closer to me, talking as if I was a child. I crossed my arms, turned away, and frowned.

"Shut the fuck up," I hissed.

"You can curse? My, my—you're too young for that Seto!" Jason gasped.

"Indeed he is," a male with sunglasses interrupted as he went to take a seat to Jason's right.

"Oh, hey Adam," Jason greeted, sneering. I felt my throat go dry—this was Adam Dahlberg?

He wasn't skinny and he wasn't fat, he was the perfect balance of healthy. His hair was nice and curly, and his eyes were the shade of a mossy green or hazel; I couldn't really tell. He was growing a bit of a stubble, I assumed he hadn't shaved in a while. He wore a black and gray striped shirt, what looked like to be baggy black jeans, and red converse shoes. He also had a bright golden and purple amulet and sunglasses rested on his head. He held a styrofoam tray of pizza and potato wedges in his hands, along with a mango flavored Snapple.

"The others are still in line, they got stopped by a teacher in the hall and we were late to lunch because of it," sunglasses dude, or Adam, said as he took his pizza, just plain cheese, and began to eat it.

"This is the new kid," Jason pointed towards me. I gave a shaky wave, an awkward grin spreading across my face.

"He looks like the type of guy you'd be with," Adam winked, nudging Jason. He gave a nervous, stiff laugh as he adjusted his collar.

"Dawn's still pretty hot—" Jason managed to choke out as he took some of Adam's potato wedges. He glared, Jason stiffened up even more. "I—I mean Alesa's pretty hot—! That's what I—"

Jason shut his mouth and his face was fuming a shade of tomato red. He banged his head against the table repeatedly, groaning and whimpering like a puppy that just witnessed its mother dying. Adam rubbed his back, mouthing, "he fucked up," to people who dared to look their way.

"Did you tease Jason again?" A boy with headphones around his neck questioned.

"In bed, yes," Adam nodded, smirking.

Headphone Boy rolled his eyes as he to went to take a seat. His red eye(s?) peered over towards me, a brief smile flashing across his face before picking up his pepperoni pizza. I shifted to the side, fiddling with my sleeves and deciding not to finish my own lunch.

"Tyler Deadlox Ellis—call me Ty though," the male said, staring straight towards me. I gulped, awkwardly shifting as I felt a lump in my throat.

Alright—maybe Jason did know some people and was important in this school. So I sit with the "emo/scenester" and the "social butterfly" of the school—so what?

"So, Seto—" Adam said with caution, "—that is your name right."

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Tell us a bit about yourself," he stated, adjusting the sunglasses that rested on his curly hair. I gulped again, took a deep breath in, and nodded.

"I'm from Wisconsin," was all that managed to come out of my mouth. God—I sound like a fucking idiot.

"And?" Ty stated.

"—he's cool I found him in the woods!" Jason exclaimed, interrupting the conversation.

"What was he doing in the woods?" Adam pondered.

"P-Punching trees," I stuttered, remembering my conversation with Jason a few days prior. I lifted up my hand that was still a bit bloodied and bruised.

"So he's one of those weird kids from Wisconsin?" Ty asked, perfectly arching up one of his eyebrows with interest.

"Way to talk like he isn't here, Ty," Jason giggled. For a guy that sounds like he smokes weed in his free time, his giggle was kinda cute.

Yeah—Jason was cute.

***

I was in my last period—art. I wasn't one to like art class, but having it for my last period everyday was such a kicker. All you pretty much do was, well, draw. It was quite a way to end off the day instead of sitting in a boring period learning about shit you'll probably never use. I was excited for this period, but didn't know the dread ahead of me. Maybe it was the teacher, or maybe it was the students, but the class itself drowned me out.

The teacher was old; she had red, circular frames resting on the bridge of her nose, wrinkly skin, and curly red hair that reminded me of a cherry tree—for some reason. Her appearance overall reminded me of my days in Wisconsin with my math teacher, but I'm glad it's all behind me. Well, half decently glad but that wasn't the point of all of this.

Back to what I was saying, the teacher was pretty nice. I didn't catch her name, but I remember her saying that I should call her "Z." I mean, Z is a pretty cool nickname considering she was an old teacher with a lousy, yet intriguing, job at a public high school in New York State. Since I was a new student she excused me from any upcoming projects and told me that there was no need for me to pay attention until Winter Break. She said I could draw for the whole period or work on my own homework assignments whenever I was in her class, which was pretty amazing of her to say.

So, she was a nice teacher in general, so I doubt she actually was the one to drown me out, actually.

What sucked about this class, however, was that we had assigned seats that didn't change for the whole school year. I wasn't complaining, it was an excuse not to sit alone. Yet, I did complain once I found out who I sat next to—an artsy kid that goes by the name of Brice Solace Purton.

The artsy kid was taller than me, probably as tall as Isaac actually. He had spiked golden hair, fair skin, blue eyes, and a shitty Australian accent that could send any girl running for the hills with a tomato red face. He didn't speak much, but when he did it was to either insult me—or insult me. He has an annoying system as well; he had these specific pencils that were aligned perfectly, and when I accidentally moved my paper he'd get super pissed because they would almost knock down his "supreme order."

What the fuck?

So, it's natural that me and this dude didn't get along.

And the period isn't even over yet—there's still a good eight minutes left until I can escape this hellhole!

"I'm sorry for interrupting your little—" the blond's voice rang in my ears, "—panic attack."

"Yes," I replied with gritted teeth, "continue."

"But your pencil is touching my pencils," he exaggerated the word "my."

"Your pencils are touching my pencils," I mimicked under my breath.

"I'm sorry, but who's the artist out of both of us?" He sneered, twirling his pencil in his hand.

"Don't know—don't honestly care at this point," I huffed, crossing my arms as I sat a bit back on my wooden stool. I was sketching out a rose, it looked fairly good but the thorns were a bit out of place.

"Listen shortie, I'd love to argue with you more but I'm afraid you'll have to worry about erasing your paper more," Brice stated as he stopped twirling his pencil.

"Excuse me?" I perked up.

He picked up the piece of paper I was drawing on and smudged his graphite pencil all over it, causing some holes to be poked as well. I gritted my teeth, clenching my fist angrily. The blond snickered, looking up with a teasing expression, "Whoops~"

"Mr. Purton!" Z hollered across from the room. All eyes darted towards the Australian, who was calmly placing down my sheet of paper. He snickered, shrugging once more with a goofy grin on his face.

"As I said earlier," he began, his piercing blue eyes gazing at the clock. He seemed to have a small countdown starting from five, as he replied with the simple word, "Whoops," as the bell rang.

He was the first to rush out, leaving me with a shitty, scribble instead of a beautiful drawing. I looked up, Z staring at me with saddened eyes.

"I'll make sure he gets detention tomorrow," she reassured me, patting my back. "Now run along, you don't want to miss the bus, do you?"

Even though I didn't take the bus, I nodded. I adjusted my flower crown, I left the drawing on the desk and walking out of the room, grumbling and fuming with anger.

Brice Solace Purton is actually a huge fucking dickhead—a killjoy too.