Andy Marsden meandered down the hallway with his hands in his pockets, whistling tunelessly. It was homecoming week, and he knew it would be fruitless if he worked up the guts to ask a girl.
(I hate high school, you know,) he said for anyone who would hear.
(Shu'up, I'm tryin' 'a sleep,) Keith slurred.
(No, seriously,) Andy insisted as he sat in the corner of his trig class. (Exactly seven other people know I exist, not including myself.)
(Aw, Tobias, we're your friends,) DJ teased in a baby voice.
He scowled slightly. (No, we're on the same team. The only reason Tops likes me is because I can kill. Asia likes me just 'cause I'm a computer geek. Keith likes my food, Christian-)
DJ exclaimed loudly, (Okay! I get the point!)
Andy pouted slightly. (No one likes me for me.)
(Swallow any more bitter pills and you'll become Gabriel,) DJ muttered.
(Thanks,) Andy responded sarcastically. And then he shut the rest of the web out of his mind.
When the bell rang, he scooped up his books and headed for his locker. He'd drop his stuff off at the foster home and head over to the gym to slug it out with a punching bag...
"Hey Andy, what're you doing this weekend?" Max, from his programming class in second hour, asked.
"I have a tournament this weekend," Andy replied softly, slipping easily into the shy school-boy role.
Max frowned slightly. "Well, okay, man. Later."
Andy sighed. He was bitter from his second life, the one in high school. Great. He needed to learn how to make friends.
Sondra, a girl in his woodshop class, approached tentatively.
"Hi...um..." She ducked her head and blushed.
He sighed again. "Andy. Hello, Sondra."
She brightened when he remembered her name. "Wow! So...are you going to homecoming on Saturday night?"
He shook his head, his sarcastic streak coming to life. "Nope. After the twenty-seventh girl turned me down, I decided not to go." Then he saw the shocked look on her face and bit his lip. "Sorry, I was just kidding. Um, no, I can't go, I have a tournament this weekend, for two days, so...yeah. I can't go."
Sondra eyed him curiously. "What kind of tournament?"
"Chess," he deadpanned.
She didn't catch it, arching one eyebrow. "Really?"
He shook his head. "No. Actually, I'm a student at this hole-in-the-wall place downtown. There's a team of us, and we all do Shang-style martial arts."
"Really?" She was intrigued now, eyes wide.
He nodded. "Yeah. Been doing it for...a while, now."
She smiled, nodding encouragingly at him to go on.
He sighed for a third time. "Well, I gotta go. Train. At the gym. Yeah." He have a half- hearted wave and turned, heading for the doors and across the parking lot. He winced when a voice exploded into his mind.
(Where have you BEEN? I've been trying to talk to you.)
Anger tightened his features. (Get lost, Gabriel,) he growled, and walls flew up around his mind. He hurried to his car, fumbling in his pockets for his keys. His hands closed around a square of glossy paper, and he bit his lip, pulling it out. It was a picture of Asia. He hissed out a curse and shoved the picture back into his pocket.
Yanking open the car door, he slid into the driver's seat and gunned the engine. The radio came on, and Staind's Fade was blaring. He slammed the door and peeled out of the parking lot, tears blurring his eyes.
"Now I'm older/ And I feel like I could let some of this anger fade/ But it seems the surface I am scratching/ Is the bed that I have made..."
"Thanks, Asia," he whispered softly, and very, very bitterly.