I looked up from my notebook as I heard his voice. He was just another teacher that I had decided that I wasn't going to pay attention to. It wasn't like I was going to fail. I always worked best on my own, that included learning everything. There was nothing I did well with others. Hell, I stayed in my room 90% of the time.
The demand was enough for me to roll my eyes. No one told me to do anything. The only reason I was at school was because I needed to break free of the monotony of life. School just gave me that little spice that made my life whole...
"Max," I sent a sharp look to the student next to me. I couldn't remember her name and I didn't care to know. I never cared to know anyone. I was a lone wolf and there was no way I was going to change that, ever, "That's Maxine Marx."
"Max," the teacher cooed and I leveled my gaze on him. I didn't like to speak. I didn't like people to know me. I didn't like to know people. I just plain didn't like people. Nothing good ever came out of getting close to another. That lesson was learned the hard way, "would you mind telling me the formula you need to use to get the area of a circle."
My eyebrows rose as I gave him an indignant stare. Really? Was he asking me that elementary question? I should have known that anyone would think I was slow because I didn't like to speak. I wasn't slow. I was one of the smartest people in school. I knew how horrible people could be, "You find the area of a circle by using the formula pi times the radius squared," I cast a bored scowl over the rest of the classroom, "Or as you all like to say and laugh, pi r squared."
The teacher nodded, "Very good," he gave me a simple grin that worked in creeping me out, "What is pi?"
I leaned back in my chair as I sat my pen in the binding of my composition book, "Three point one four one five nine two six five," I stopped as I crossed my arms over my chest, "Do you wish me to continue or are you actually going to leave me alone?"
His dark eyes grew wide as he stared down at me, "Miss Marx-"
"No, don't start. I'm going to say this once and only once. I will not participate. I will do all my homework. I will pass all my tests. I will pass this class. I will not talk to you or anyone else. I do best when alone and I always will. Now," I gave him an evil grin as I felt the malice in my gaze, "leave me alone. I know more than enough so stop quizzing me."
He glared at me, "I'm not going to put up with this, young lady."
I shrugged as I reached out for my pen again. I didn't care. There were plenty of teachers that couldn't stand me. There were also plenty of teachers in the school that tolerated me enough because they knew that there was nothing they could do. I knew there was at least one teacher in every subject that tolerated me. I would pass this stupid rite of passage for teenagers and move on with my life.
"Max," I ignored my classmate as I started to scribble my notes about the teacher down. It wasn't anything special. Just that I wasn't going to like him. Then I moved from the teacher to the class. Again, it was just about the fact that I wasn't going to like it. Then I noted each and every student. None of them were people I would talk to and I just wanted to note each little inadequacy that I saw and each and every thing they wanted to hide. Ah, how vain and pathetic people are!
It was right then that the door opened. The teacher had already went about droning on about asymptotes and whatever else he thought was important. I looked up from my notes to see the new arrival. I didn't care about who entered the room. I just wanted to know. Curiosity was my main vice.
At first glance my curiosity was sparked. The boy that entered the room was different than anyone I had ever seen. He wasn't exceptionally attractive and he wasn't ugly. He wasn't tall or short. He was average in almost every way, except the way he dressed. The style at the time was either skinny jeans or jeans so baggy that teachers actually had to start carrying zip ties around to hold the pants up. This boy was wearing a pair of worn looking light blue jeans that didn't fall off his hips or squeeze his thighs so tight that it looked like the seams were going to rip. The shirt that was in style was again, either so tight that it looked like it was going to rip or so big that half the time it reached to the person's knees. His shirt just barely hung past his belt, showing off his pockets and the zipper of his jeans and hung limply against his slender form. My curiosity was spiked and I was going to pay attention to this new comer.
The teacher turned away from the whiteboard and sighed, "Late."
The boy smiled as he pushed his dark auburn hair out of his eyes, "I'm sorry. I got lost," he looked around the room and his eyes caught on me. It didn't surprise me, but the smile he sent my direction did surprise me. It was at that point that my eyes grew wide as I stared right at him. Why did he smile at me? I was a freak in every way and no one, no one, liked me. Not even other people that looked like me. Who was this new boy?
The teacher sighed, "Right, you must be Drake Hammond," he looked the boy over, "Find a seat and pay attention."
Drake nodded as he made his way through the class and took the seat next to me. I shook my head as I returned to my composition book. I didn't really care about him. He was just different. I was just different. At times there was the aching of loneliness, but most the time I remembered what the aching of companionship was like. I much preferred the loneliness.
After a few moments a slip of paper fell onto my composition book. I turned and glared at Drake to see that he was smiling. I knew he dropped the note there. I knew he wanted to talk to me, but I didn't want to talk to him. I was a loner. People didn't like me. People didn't want to be my friend. People just wanted to use me and I wasn't going to be used ever again.
I tucked the note away in my composition book before I returned to ignoring the teacher. I wasn't going to let him reach out to me. I was going to keep my wall up. I didn't want him near and he wasn't going to get the chance to slip through those walls. Drake might have been different and that might have called to me, but I wasn't going to let it happen. No.