What do I do when I have writer's block? I write lots of one shots and short stories, and start lots of new stories to try and get past it. I'm sorry. Be prepared for them. They're swimming in my head like no tomorrow.

I expect this story to be about five chapters. Please enjoy it.

I'd never considered myself somebody who would fall in love with a teacher. But then, I hadn't known Mr. Lewis. And after I did meet him, I didn't plan on getting to know him, because teachers had their world, and I had mine. I was a junior in high school when we met. The first time, I'd just been leaving the library, with a bunch of books that my younger brother had forced me to go pick up with him. He's a real bookworm, but he had to hurry and get to his environmental club, so he'd sent me to get them. He'd pushed the door open right when I was about to reach for it, and it had knocked into me before I had the time to get out of the way. The books I'd just checked out fell out of my hands, and scattered across the ground.

After staring at the ground for a few seconds, despairing over how I would have to reach down and get all all those books, I looked up. He had black hair, and brown eyes, and he looked to be somewhere in his late twenties. He was staring at the books too, but instead of offering to bend down and pick them up for me, he just looked back at me, and said, "You should watch where you're going."

Then he pushed past me and kept going, not even looking back, leaving me steaming with anger and disbelief.

And the next time I saw him, he was standing at the front of our science classroom, first day of February, saying, "Hello. I'm Mr. Lewis, and I'll be your teacher from this point on." His eyes went over the class, and when they reached me, I couldn't tell if he recognized me or not. I mean, I recognized him, but teachers are different. You can forever remember them, but they'll forget you.

"We're going to get straight to work." he said, and the class groaned. They had expected a nice and easy day, clearly, where the teacher would let us all talk, and maybe tell him a bit about himself. This in no way affected me, because I never do anything in this class again. I waited until he passed out our papers, passed it to the kid behind me, than put my head in my arms and tried to go to sleep.

I was almost there too, when I felt a balled up piece of paper bounce of my head. I didn't even look up, but I heard the snickers from the kids in the room. Whatever. Didn't bother me. Who needs them.

Who needs anybody.

The new teacher started taking roll, and so I forced myself to sit up and wait for my name to be called.

"Aiden Jones." he said, and I started to answer, but than from the back of the room, another voice piped up.


More snickers. Mr. Lewis glared at the boy in the back who had made the joke, a boy named Markus. Markus looked away, pretending to be innocent, and I quietly raised my hand.

"Here." I said, and Mr. Lewis' eyes went to me. He looked at me for a second, and I wondered if recognized me yet. He didn't say anything though, just checked something off and went back to calling names. I turned and glared at Markus, but not for very long, because he whispered, "Do something about it, faggot." And then I looked away.

I don't know. I didn't want them to mess with me. But more than that, I didn't want to fight him. I would get my ass kicked.

My name is Aiden Jones, and I'm a junior in highschool. I have red hair that hangs over my hazel eyes. Yep, I'm a day walker. A gay day walker. A gay, emo, day walker. By emo, I don't mean I cut myself and write poetry about how much the world hates me. I don't even dress in black. I guess I'm not really very emo. They just call me emo.

Oh well. They've called me worse.

When the teacher is done taking role, he goes up to teach, and I put my head down to sleep.

I came out to the school last year. It hadn't been my idea. It had been my boyfriend's idea. He said that we shouldn't be afraid of who we were, and that we shouldn't hide. So, I came out. I walked hand in hand with my boyfriend down the halls of that school, and even though I was scared, I was also overjoyed. But than my boyfriend moved away. We stayed in a long distance relationship for about a month, then that ended too. Now I'm on my own at this hell hole.

Another ball of paper hit my head, and I sat up and turned around to glare at Markus, but to my surprise, he wasn't even looking my way, busy talking to the guys around him. I rubbed my head, confused, than turned and looked at Mr. Lewis, who was standing in front of my desk, looking down at me.

"Don't think just because I'm new, you'll get away with that kind of behavior." he said to me, and then he went back to teaching. More laughing around me, but I ignored it, grumbling to myself, "Stupid teacher. Knock me down and then throw shit at my head."

"I'm sorry, did you have something to say?" Mr. Lewis asked me, turning back around to look at me. I glared at him for a second, than looked at my desk, shaking my head.


He nodded and turned around.

Stupid teacher. My last teacher had pretty much let me get away with doing whatever I wanted, since she was one of the kinds who just focused on the kids that were actually trying. Since I was stupid when it came to science, she let me fall through the cracks.

And now I knew jack shit about what was going on. The last time I'd turned in an assignment in this class was the first day, when she'd had us all take those stupid surveys about ourselves. I'd barely managed to pass the first semester, with a D. Now, I was pretty sure I was back down to an F.

When the bell rang for class to end, I was one of the first ones out. It was lunch time now, and I had to get to my usual eating spot, unless I wanted it to be taken, and than forced to mingle with the other kids in the courtyard.

I went to the back stairs, and slid under, pulling out the food I had grabbed this morning. It was a meager meal, because we didn't have much to eat at my house, not with my father just losing his job and my mother long out of the picture. I looked at what I had, and decided not to eat it after all. I'd give it to my brother. He needed it more than I did.

I wondered where he was. My brother, Andrew, was a freshman, so I knew he had to be around somewhere. But I figured he was in the biology room with all his nerd friends, and I didn't want to be stuck with a bunch of nerds, listening to them talk about whatever the hell they jabbered about.

I put my food back into my backpack, but a minute later, my stomach growled. I looked in, and decided I'd eat one pop tart, than save the rest. We needed to ration our food until dad found work again.

I ate the pop tart, trying not to shove it down my throat, and than I sighed in contentment. But my bliss was short lived.

"Hey, lookie here." a voice said, and my eyes, which I had closed only a second before, opened again, than narrowed into slits. It was Markus, followed by a group of his friends. They were carrying a basketball, so I guess they had been about to go shoot hoops.

I was a sitting duck down here, and they knew it, spreading out so that I was blocked from all sides. All I could do was push myself as far back as I could get. Which wasn't far.

"What are you doing down here, Aiden?" Markus asked, starting to come under with me. I didn't answer him. When he got close enough, I kicked him in the gut, knocking him back a few steps back, and than tried to run like hell. But one of his friends grabbed me, and held me back until Markus had recovered enough to come back over to me.

"You shouldn't have done that." he said darkly, and then he punched me in the face. I would have fallen on to my back if I wasn't being restrained. He followed up with a punch to my gut, and I bent over, gasping for air. I thought he'd probably go on punching the hell out of me, if we all didn't hear a voice shouting.

"Hey! Break it up!"

My assailants instantly dropped me, and ran off, and I slumped onto the ground, holding my stomach and trying to breath at a normal rate again. The person who had found us was standing over me now, waiting for me to stand up, and I did so, on shaky legs. Who had found us? The back of the school is usually deserted at lunch.

It was Mr. Lewis.

"Are you alright?" he asked me, and I silently nodded.

"Yeah. Thanks for the help." I started to walk away, but he caught my arm.

"Wait! What are those boys names?" he asked, looking past me toward the way they had run. I didn't blame him for not recognizing them, since he'd only been here a day.

"Doesn't matter." I said, pulling away from his hand, and backing up. "I'm fine."

He frowned. "If you don't report this, they will do it again."

I laughed. "If I do report them, they'll do it again." It was true. Reporting them was no use, not in this school. They wouldn't even get suspended. Not when Markus' father was the principal.

My stomach growled right then, and it was really loud and long. I put a hand over it softly, trying to make it stop. Stop it. I told it. We already ate today. In response, it growled louder. Mr. Lewis heard it, and he asked, "Have you eaten yet?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm just fat." I joked, and he smiled lightly.

"What did you eat?" he asked.

Crap. He didn't believe me. Did I look poor or something? Probably. Well, of course he didn't believe me, not when my stomach itself was growling. Changing the subject quickly, I suddenly said, "You haven't apologized!"

He blinked, confused.

"Apologize? I think in this situation, you should be thanking me, not I apologizing to you."

So he didn't recognize me.

"You knocked me down at the library!" I said, and he thought about it for a second, than said, "Oh, that was you."

I nodded. "Yeah, and you didn't apologize."

He shrugged. "It's not my fault. How could I have known you were on the other side of the door?"

His insensitivity was pissing me off. "You should still apologize!" I said, folding my arms over my chest and glaring at him. He stared at me for a few seconds, than sighed and said, "Alright, if it was heal your fragile ego, I'm sorry!"

My mouth dropped open. "That's not an apology!" I shouted.

"Because I'm not really sorry." he explained, and than he started walking off. Hey, if anyone was going to walk off like he didn't give a shit, it was me! But he was already gone a moment later, and I just stood there, listening to my stomach growl.

That night, me and Andrew were doing our homework, home alone.

"Where's dad?" Andrew had asked when we'd first walked in. We'd looked around, but couldn't find him. I shrugged and said calmly, "I'm sure he's just trying to find a job."

But I wouldn't bet on it.

We were an hour into our homework when the door opened, and dad came in. I looked at him, and was glad to see that he wasn't drunk, or even high. Usually, after he's had a tough time, he goes off and gets messed up. But he looked okay. Maybe he really had been off searching for a job.

"How was your day?" I asked, and he looked over at us, and I knew it hadn't gone well.

"I'm sorry." he said right off the bat, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry for what?" I asked. When he was apologizing right away, it wasn't a good sign. He sighed and shook off his coat, letting it fall to the floor. Andrew got up and picked it up, setting it on a chair. We looked at him, waiting for him to tell us what was wrong, and what new hell we were in.

"I uh...lost...some money." he said, and my eyes widened. He hadn't been drinking or getting high, but he also hadn't been searching for a job.

"You gambled our money away!?" I gasped, standing up, and going over to him. He nodded, and I groaned in frustration. We'd only had two hundred dollars this morning. That was it. Not even enough to cover our basic expenses.

"How much?" Andrew asked, and his voice was trembling. He knew we were in deep shit now.

Dad sighed again, and I could see the regret in his eyes. "I was just trying to get us more money." he explained. And that was his solution? Risk losing what we had left?

"All of it?" I asked, because I knew. My father wasn't somebody who could quit halfway. He nodded.

I didn't even respond to him when he started to reach over and grab my shoulder. I just ran to my room, and slammed the door. We had no money. None. We had zero dollars and zero cents. The only bright side to this was that he couldn't buy liquor or pills. I fell against my door. This sucked. We were so beyond screwed.

I looked around my room, and got an idea. With a tiny shred of hope, I went back out to my dad and brother, who were sitting in the living room. Andrew was whispering to dad softly, and dad was shaking his head remorsefully.

"Look around the house." I said, and they looked up at me. "Find stuff to sell."

"Sell?" Andrew repeated, and I nodded.

"Garage sale. It's our only choice at this point."

Andrew nodded, and my dad looked up at me gratefully.

"You're so smart son." he said, and I scoffed.

"No, I just know how to handle money." I said. I could tell I hurt him, and I didn't want to do that, but he needed to be taught a lesson. "You're responsible for not only yourself, but us, and this house, and the stuff in this house." I told him. "Stop wasting our money, and figure out how to use it wisely."

Then I went off to find stuff of mine to sell. A lot of it would be hard to part with, but I didn't have a choice. Not if I wanted to have food a week from now. When we all met up, Andrew had three boxes full of books. He was looking down at them sadly, so I knew it must be just as hard for him to get rid of his stuff. My father's box made my heart drop.

It was mom's stuff.

Our eyes met, and for a second, I wanted to cry, and run to him and hug him. Our mother had hurt him. Hurt all of us. I nodded at him, then said, "Alright, let's put it over by the door. Tomorrow, we start selling."


So, the next day, I skipped school to help set up the sale. I told Andrew he could go, since I knew how important school was to him. He had friends and good grades. He wanted to be there.

I was alone, failing at almost everything, and being bullied. There was nothing for me there.

Lucky for my brother that he wasn't gay, or else his life would be hell too. Lucky for me he hadn't gone to my school the year I came out to the school. Or else he would have known, and my father would have figured out. I don't really know how they would handle this news. I feel like it would be fine for my brother, but I don't think my dad would be as okay with it. I felt like it would tear out his final shred of hope.

So I didn't tell.

By noon, we were selling, and by one o'clock, we had made twenty dollars. Not much, but it was a start.

A few minutes later, somebody was over looking at Andrew's books, and when I looked over, I was surprised to see that it was Mr. Lewis. He looked up at the same moment, and raised an eyebrow.

"Aiden. Shouldn't you be in school?" he asked, and I was surprised that he had remembered my name.

"Shouldn't you?" I asked, and he smiled lightly, just like he had when I had made the joke yesterday.

"I'm an adult. I'm allowed to ditch." he said, and I shook my head.

"It's your second day, lazy ass."

"Now, that's no way to talk to your teacher." he admonished, and I smiled.

"Shut up and buy something."

Hmm, I have a feeling this will be much longer than five chapters. Especially since I have so much I want to do with it.

Damn me!

Well, I hope you guys like it. Sorry if it reminds you guys of 1st Degree Love as much as it does me. I mean, younger kid falling in love with older person? Young sibling and an alcoholic parent? Snarky attitude?

Don't worry, it won't stay that way, promise. Differences will be there.