The loud blaring sound of my alarm clock made me want to rip the piece of technology to shreds.

You know those people that liked school?

That said it was fun?

Yeah, those people's pants are on fire. You want to know why? They obviously lie for a living! No one in their right mind would be excited to wake up at the crack of dawn to learn about pointless things.

Granite, I was able to pick most of my classes, but still. No one wanted to know about how electrons had a charge and protons and all that jazz. People don't want to know how a seed grows. We get it, you pour water on it and let it have sun. You don't need to go into detail about the sheaths, blades, and collars of grass! Somethings are left better unsaid!

I begrudgingly got out of bed. Maybe after hitting the snooze button five times, but who's really counting? The point was I tried to get out of bed. I feel like I should get a gold sticker for that! Unless you're a previously said liar, you'll understand how much of a struggle it is to get out of bed when you could be sleeping.

You don't realize how precious sleep is until you have to wake up at five in the morning for early classes. Nonetheless, I hurried out the door of the flat, purposefully slamming the door hard. Maybe it would wake Mike's lazy ass out of bed and he'd actually do something helpful today.

Wishful thinking for a pessimistic Monday morning, I know. But sometimes, you just needed to let yourself have an ounce of hope. No matter how naive that hope was, you needed it, kind of like coffee.

Again, I lumbered over towards the bus stop, dragging my feet like I was walking to my own hanging. It seemed that the 'heavens' were done mocking me, because today it wasn't pouring down rain. This meant I wouldn't resemble the looks of a soaked dog in first period, and maybe today people wouldn't look at me like I was a soaked, kicked puppy.

I realized that I was having scarily wishful thoughts and it was Monday. The fact practically screamed that I would probably suffer more here than in hell. And speaking of the Devil, immediately I saw Anth in the hallway.

You know that awkward moment when you're not exactly 'buddy buddy' with someone, but you know them enough through acquaintances? And then there's that moment when you see them and you don't know whether you should say hi, fist bump, hi-five, or do the even more awkward 'bro' nod?

When I saw Anth, I didn't know if I should just advert my eyes and pretend I was an oblivious goldfish or make some sort of gesture. His eyes widened in recognition, and I cursed myself for not looking away faster. This meant I had to say something, or else he'd definitely want to carve out my innards like an angry Mother on Thanksgiving who forgot to stuff her frozen turkey.

I may have given him some very awkward finger gun, waving, I'm 'slick' dude hand gesture shrug. It was early in the morning, give a guy a break? Would ya? Ya, I'm talking to you Betty! Okay--you and your judgemental looks can go somewhere else!

Ant, of course, walked over.

"Are you okay?" He asked, voice and face contorted in concern.

I immediately panicked, of course I did the wrong gesture! I was never good with social cues and I blame my dad for it! Him and his cultured reading nerdiness has impacted me too much!

"Um.....yeah? Why wouldn't I be?" I said, of course I left it off as a really awkward uncertain question. It was the kind of question people directed to their ex's after one decided to venture back into the dating pool.

Anth's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "You just had a giant muscle spasm or something. Are you sure you're okay?"

I mentally face palmed, okay maybe I was really bad at hand gestures.

"Yep. You know me, I get those a lot," I said weakly, laughing it off awkwardly.

"Are you sure--"

"Yep! Anyway, great to catch up and all, just gotta run!" I said, mentally cringing.

Of course I couldn't be normal and cool.

No, I had to make everything uncomfortably awkward because of how we...left things. Obviously Anth knew something weird was going on because anyone who had been around me for about five seconds knew I wasn't 'nice' or 'formal' like that. Who in the world says: I get muscle spasms a lot? Or great to catch up? Or better yet, gotta run?

You tell me what American WANTS to run? None! That's who!

Geez, even that stereotypical comment made me cringe. Now I was seriously wondering if I was okay. 

"Wyatt!" Anth called after me, because of course the guy couldn't take a hint.

"Yes Anth," I said through gritted teeth as I spun on my heel. Even I knew that I was overly angry today. What did they put in the water here?

"What's going on?" He demanded, purely business.

I rolled my eyes, and I could tell Anth was not prepared for the major attitude coming his way.

"What's wrong? Seriously!? Do you not even comprehend the fact that it's Monday? Monday?! Who in the world likes Mondays?! Scratch that, you're probably that insane guy that enjoys the 'start to the new week' or whatever crap your parents fed you when you were younger! Maybe you should switch your major from Film to a Delusional Liar! I think that'd be more fitting!" I snapped.

Anth's eyes widened, "Did you have coffee this morning?"

I was going to say something else, but was shocked.

"What? Coffee? What are you now, my Mother? Coffee doesn't--"

"I'm going to take that as a no," Anth trailed off, waiting for me to correct him.

"No! I didn't have time!" I said sourly.

He smiled slightly, chuckling, as he shook his head.

"What? I'll have you know--"

"That the Harvard Journal recommends coffee?" Anth finished.

"Wait--how'd you know that?" I demanded, still annoyed.

"Because I know you Wyatt. Especially the fact that you can't function without coffee on early mornings. When you don't have any, you're extremely grumpy, pessimistic, and pouty--"

"I am NOT pouty," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

"And defensive," Anth added.

I just scowled, giving him my you're-dead-to-me glare.

"When's your break?" Anth asked nicely.

I raised a skeptic eyebrow, "Why do you--"

"Wyatt! Break--what time?"

"After my first session," I said, still suspicious.

"Perfect! Mine is too!"

"What are you planning?" I asked, voice dangerously low in annoyance.

Anth rolled his eyes, "I know a great coffee place, and I want to save your professors from your moodiness. They didn't sign up for that!"

I scoffed, "And you did?"

"Finally he admits it!"

"I did not! It was--Hypothetical!" I said defensively, huffing.

"Um hmm," Anth said, not believing me.

"It was!"

"Whatever, see you for coffee?"

"It better be one good cup of Jo," I muttered, still annoyed.

"It'll be the best cup of 'Jo' you've ever had!" Anth promised.

"I'd like to see you try!"

"It's a bet!" Anth smiled as he walked away.

I realized I was still scowling when Professor Janet gave me a confused look when I entered English. She was a middle aged woman, probably in her late thirties. She had jet black hair cut in jagged edges down her forehead. It was cropped short, and she had dark motherly brown eyes. Her strict thin mouth seemed too small for her big doe eyes.

"Everything alright...." she trailed off.

"Wyatt Walker, and yes," I said, placing a fake smile on my face.

She raised a dark brown eyebrow at me, but didn't say a word as she placed her delicate fire engine red glasses on her bulbous nose. It was then she dove into the lesson about great poets and short story writers.

"You'll have an essay due by the end of the week on a poem of your choice," she spoke, her voice containing a hint of a Persian accent.

I twiddled with my thumbs, bored out of my mind.

Her curious eyes landed on me, "And you will be giving a speech the following week on your analysis of said poem. Choose wisely, for this will give me an insight into your mind and it'll be my first impression on what you're work will be like. Surprise me, would you?"

I shifted slightly in my seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable. It seemed like she was sternly scolding me, but also was somehow warning me to put time and effort into it?

I couldn't really understand what she was trying to get out of me, but I knew that I was immediately nervous. Public speaking wasn't something I was good at. In fact, it always made me feel like I'd vomit my insides out and onto the crowd like the splash zone from a horror show.

I honestly didn't know what poem I was going to pick. In all honesty, I hated poems. They were always in old wordy tongue that no one in their right mind could understand. Oh! Maybe poets are all mad old geezers who didn't give a dam anymore.

That made a lot more sense then what Professor Janet wanted us to do. Understand the meaning written by a bunch of crazies? No thank you!

Finally, she ended the session. But unfortunately, things just got worse for me.

"Mr. Walker, please wait for a second," she said formally.

Oh. My. God.

I'm doomed.

Already I somehow managed to get a teacher to hate me even though I didn't say anything! Is she somehow a telepath that overheard my innermost thoughts?

Anth was right, without coffee I really was edgy. Especially on Monday mornings, calm down! Geez, she only wants to talk to you!

I gathered my pencil and notebook, which I may or may not have used to scribble a bunch of random doodles in so it looked like I was paying attention. I stopped at the desk that seemed to take up half the space of the room where Professor Janet sat behind typing away at something on her computer.

I cleared my throat, not really sure what to say, "Um--Professor?"

She smiled slightly as she turned her gaze away from the screen onto my face, "Yes, Mr. Walker. I want you to know two things: one, I'm sure you hear all the time is thank you for your service. That's something brave you did, whether you think so or not. Then, thing number two, I'm directing this at you, but I've seen a few students use certain things to get out of assignments. I'll have you know I respect you, but I'm not going to be some teacher you can roll over. My job is to challenge you and to bring out the best writing out of you. So, I expect no excuses about any assignment. You are like any other student here, you work hard and you get the grade. Don't show up, you fail. It's up to you, but I'm not giving you special treatment. Now, remember, the essay is Friday and you best get started on it. Have a good rest of your day Mr. Walker, and welcome to Milton." 

I nodded, slightly awkward about how she thought I was one of those, "Thanks, and I wasn't counting on it. The special treatment, I mean."

She gave me an understanding smile, "Good, because I know you're going to surprise me."

I nodded, not really sure what to do or say, and walked out of the room. I felt this pressure on my shoulders that I absolutely hated. She wanted me to surprise her? How? Isn't that what the good students are for?

Honestly, if she even checked my highschool grades she would've immediately known why I joined the army. There was absolutely no way I'd be going to college....except I am. All because my parents wanted me to. They needed my to in a way.

They wanted to see me be normal, but I'm not normal. I've seen things.......but I'm okay. I'm getting better. I'm already better, and I don't need some school setting to prove that.

I almost screamed when Anth clapped me on my shoulder.

"What is wrong with you? Are you trying to give me a heart-attack?" I snapped, sending him an icy glare.

Anth rolled his eyes, the same easy-going smile on his face.

"Coffee, come on," he said, grabbing my elbow and leading me to an exit I didn't know existed.

But, I wasn't going to act like some damsel, so I shrugged my arm out of his grip and walked with a purpose. Like I knew exactly where I was going. And of course, Anth had to find this absolutely amusing.

"What?" I barked, already annoyed.

He shook his head, chuckling softly, "It's funny how you think you know where we're going."

I rolled my eyes, feeling that annoyance turn to irritation.

"Come on," Anth said, ushering me outside. We walked a few blocks in a heated silence, which was my doing. I still was irritated with him. What can I say? Without coffee you're doomed for me to hold a grudge against you.

We ended up standing in front of a little shop called 'Not Your Average Jo'. 

I raised a skeptical eyebrow at Anth, "Is this it?"

"Yep! There's this guy named Joe who owns it, so it's a play o--"

I cut him off by opening up the door, which lead to a little jingle of a door bell. It was a quaint little shop, and I found myself liking it. The ceiling was covered in little outdoor lights, kind of like what you'd imagine at a barn party.

A young guy stood behind the barista counter, and his face brightened at the sight of Anth.

"Anth!" He smiled in an accent that was some mixture of five European countries. He had a small, slender frame. His light brown hair looked like honey when the light hit it, and he had friendly periwinkle eyes. He'd be kind of cute if he didn't hide half of his face with the newsie cap he had on his head. 

Anth walked over and gave the guy a hug, which made me feel even more awkward. I didn't want to creepily stare at them hugging, but I couldn't find anything else to look at.

"Ze friend? Eh?" The guy asked, waggling a mischievous eyebrow. Anth smacked him in the shoulder, laughing.

"He's a friend," Anth said. "Wyatt, meet Joe."

Joe smiled at me, and I gave him a slight thin lipped smile.

"Hey," I said.

I don't know where Joe came from, but wherever it was, he came from a very huggy family. Joe walked over and I thought we were going to shake hands. Instead, he pulled me in for a quick hug.

"Dis vone is shy, no?" He asked, laughing.

"No," I said, gruffly.

"Dis vone temper, ja?" He proceeded to joke.

I gave Anth a look that screamed don't indulge him.

"Only when he doesn't have coffee," Anth said.

Great. Just great. I guess we should start running around with a megaphone screaming about all the weird things I do in life. Including the fact that I'm angry without coffee. Well, sucks to be them cause I'm angry all the time.

Yes, I know I'm extremely mature.

"Vat do ju vant?" Joe asked, pointing to the menu behind him.

Anth smiled, "Your Vanilla-Bean Caramel Macchiato Latte."

My jaw dropped open, "That's like--diabetes in a cup!"

"No it's not! Just because I like a little something something in my coffee doesn't mean I'll get a diabetes!"

I just shook my head.

"Und ju?" Joe asked.

"Hmm..." I eyed the coffees, wondering what I wanted. "I'll just have a black coffee."

To that, Anth's jaw fell open.

"Umm no. Get him the Sugar and Spice latte," Anth ordered for me.

"Excuse me--"

"Okay coming vight up!" Joe smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he beamed. He was one of those people that had smile lines, and I found myself trusting him. He probably couldn't mess up coffee that much.

"Why'd you order for me?" I demanded, irritated at Anth.

"Because you need to try new things. You always do the same boring things! You need to widen your horizon!" He said, arms wide gesturing everything.

I rolled my eyes, "Some things don't need to be widened thank you very much!"

A few minutes later Joe returned with our coffees, and I had a blueberry lemon scone. It was absolutely delicious!

"You'll really eat anything with blueberries in it," Anth mused.

I gave him a glare, "Just because I like fruit--"

"I'm not going to get diabetes!" Anth finished while taking a bite out of his chocolate sugary doughnut. Did I mention it had rainbow sprinkles?

"You are such a six year old," I said, chuckling, and shaking my head as I sipped my latte. It was good, but I wouldn't give Anth the satisfaction that he was right.

Anth smiled, but didn't say anything.

"What?" I snapped, feeling the edge coming back into my voice.

"Nothing."

"Tell me Anth."

"It's nothing."

"If it is nothing, you can tell me," I pointed out, annoyed.

"Just--you have a nice laugh. It's good to hear it--you know? And to see you smile. You don't do it often, and--"

I stood up, "I'm late for my next class."

"Your next class doesn't start for--"

"I'm late Anth," I snapped, feeling myself drift away. I hated it. I hated how everyone looked at me like I was some sort of community service project. 'It's good to hear you laugh and smile Wyatt', 'you're improving Wyatt'.

Those people can go to hell for all I care. They don't know me, not one bit! Those 'encouraging' words are just annoying. I don't want to listen to someone tell me that I'm doing fine. I already know that. Nothing's wrong with me, so just shut up.

I don't need your  help and I don't need your words. I just want to go one day without having someone congratulate me for doing the most simple things a baby could do. I don't want people to make it a big deal that I got up and got ready on my own. I don't want people to be proud of me for smiling or laughing.

And I certainly don't want people to get all sentimental on the fact I'm doing easy tasks on my own! It's not like I'm mentally impaired or something!

I stormed out of the coffee shop, and I was sure Joe was completely confused. Well let him be confused for all I care! He's probably just like the rest of them!

I heard Anth call after me, and of course this guy loved to exercise, because he ran after me.

"Wyatt? What's wrong? Did I say something?" He asked worriedly, desperately. Like I was some piece of China that would fall apart if he didn't do something.

I chose to ignore him, not wanting to get into another screaming match. But of course Anth always had to have things his way. He always had to fix things right away.

He grabbed my arm, yanking me around to face him. His blue brown eyes searching mine, "What's wrong?"

My jaw was locked and I knew a vein was probably popping out at the nape of my neck.

"Wyatt?" He said again softly like if he said it any louder I'd throw a temper tantrum.

"You just don't get it," I said calmly, darkly, and tore my arm out of his grip.

This time, Anth didn't follow after me, and I didn't have to turn around to know that he had that confused look on his face. I didn't have to turn around to know that he was staring at me, mouth parted slightly, and eyebrows drawn.

And I knew he wanted me to turn around and go back to the coffee shop. I knew he wanted me to sit down with him and pour my heart out, telling him about all the things that were on my mind. I knew he wanted me to tell him what he did wrong and to explain it more than 'you just don't get it'.

Because he wouldn't understand. None of them ever would because they all were 'just trying to help'. But they weren't helping. They were destroying the little bit of happiness I had in those moments by feeling proud of themselves and me for showing some sort of normalcy.

I was done and tired of all of it. So I did return back to the campus and was in the library, not really knowing what I was going to do.

And I shocked myself when I was in the poem section getting a head start on my essay. It seemed that there was nothing better for me to do than to find someone who'd understand, even though I knew no one would ever understand how I felt.

No one ever would, and that was my sad reality.