Anti Hero

It's a new story guys! and I wanna apologise in advance for the potential delays of some chapters :)

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The alarm clock blared noisily and annoyingly, causing me to turn and toss lazily on the bed as I irritatedly stretched my pulpy weak hand towards the small, archaic clock and thumped my palm on it; restoring serenity as the blares died. Is daily school really necessary? I wondered as my eyelids twitched torpidly.

It was a Monday morning and the notion of going to school today bothered me, I honestly don't want to go, I didn't really want to leave this room, I hate going to Maxwell High, I hate facing his taunts, I loathe seeing his face!

It was a minute past seven and I uncovered myself from the duvet, lethargically rubbing my eyes with the two soft, crimson palms attached to my wrists.

"Phew!" I sighed, gazing down at the marble floor my legs stood on, glancing around my room- how untidy it was; my clothes loafing on every small space the ground provided, my skateboard; turned upside down just by the door of my en-suite bathroom, more startlingly; how my underpants participated in cladding my mattress with the insipid cotton bedspread I had earlier worn it with.

"Am I gonna clean this room today?" I muttered to myself, laughing quietly at the negative response my brain hurled to those two soft, mediocre ears that stuck out from my head.

"Well," I whispered, jolting from the bed and walking towards the bathroom, carefully picking my skateboard and jettlingly darting it towards the bed, squelching my face tightly as I watched it hop from the bed and land to the floor. "There goes nothing." I heaved and disappeared into the bathroom.

I was christened Trevor by my mother before she passed away, painful how I never got to see her face or feel her motherly presence, leaving me alone with my psychotic father; wouldn't blame him though, he lost his job and wouldn't get a feedback from all interviewers after several job interviews, his wife died a week after her first and only child and now all he basically does is drink, yell, watch TV, sleep, repeat.

Anyway, I am Trevor Stewart, typical lone kid in the last year of Maxwell High, my skin tone is whitish and I'm seventeen years old, living in Clepton* with my widowed father, I inherited my mother's blonde curly hair which is presently lustrous black due to applications of several dyes, I have very few friends unlike the happening Chester that I so much envy. Aaron Chester is secretly idolized by me, unlike him I have blue oceanic eyes while Chester possess dark, glittering eyes, partially like him I have black curly hair that I emulated from him- just the color, unlike Chester I am super smart, at least I don't rely on desperate girls to do my homework in exchange for a fellatio, Chester on the other hand is greatly moneyed, he drives a coupe while I skate a board, his charismatic characteristics always obscure his awful intellectual incompetence, he surprisingly knows how to spell his name! But of course that's exaggeration, it's a loathsome critique, I hate Aaron but I so emulate him, I want to be like him, I want his fame, his wealth, his physique, his breath, his earlobes, I want to be Aaron Chester!

"'I found a love for me, darling just dive right in..." I sang while rubbing my face with a towel, I enjoy listening to my singing; the melodic, dulcet tone of my voice enthralls me, my mellisonant, high-pitched voice enthuses me a whole lot, yet Aaron would always insinuate I'm a jessie, not directly though, he would say 'All these jessies crooning like birthing birds.' He would scorn in such condescending tone, minifying my confidence to somewhat zero, making me to 'croon' mostly when I'm alone, even though people, girls specifically adore my voice but if it's not what Aaron likes then you probably shouldn't have it.

My school uniform; a white shirt and black pants, coupled with a black quilted jacket stared back at me as I looked at the cracked mirror that stood on my dressing table; a nearly vacant table.

If there was something to be proud of then it should be the student scholarship award I won last year from the science fair competition that cleared all my tuition debts and permitted me to study for an extra year; till after the twelfth grade, at least it gave me a very fleeting renaissance, a popularity that was scuttled after Aaron led the school to win the last year's ice hockey competition against Norman High- the high school with the most invincible hockey players. That was a very big one for him though; it made him 'Prom King', all the girls wanting to date him and all the boys yearning to be his friend. It was at that point Aaron noticed me; it was when he assumed me to be his rival.

My pale face twitchily smiled back at me as I dressed my hair, standing in front of the mirror; I didn't look bad, but unlike Aaron Chester I was not beguiling, I wasn't the centre of attraction to the girls, to the boys, to Maxwell High!

ONE...TWO...THREE... I lay exhaustedly on the floor after the third pushup. Masculinity is just not my thing, I thought, sighing heavily as I staggered out of my room.

"Morning." I greeted my father who sat on the long sofa in the living room- watching his usual television program, of course he didn't respond, he barely even looks at me, I guess he still hates me for sticking out in the lowest period of his life like a sore thumb, he hates that I am his responsibility, he hates how he singly fed me for sixteen exact years, however, that wouldn't stop me from greeting him.

I settled down on the wooden seat in the dining room, daubing butter all over the two slices of bread my father must have left over, the tea was almost done, not over five spoons left in the jar. I sighed at this. My face lifted from the bread to the sofa seat that he constantly sat on and to my father- how he glued his eyes to the television screen, he just sits there watching TV doing absolutely nothing about this situation. I thought. Why get married if you ain't ready to be responsible? I wondered.

I hastily ate my breakfast, dropping the cup in the kitchen sink; hopefully I would wash the dishes when I get back from school.

I raced back to my room, picking my skateboard from where it inanimately lay beside my bed stand, I could not resist taking a last glance at the mirror, just for Stacey, would she like the new hair arrangement? I questioned the reflection on the mirror; she disapprovingly looked at my hair the last time, and would she like the scent of my new perfume? Would I be able to speak with her today?

Two sapphire eyes hurled back a questioning look at me from where I stood in front of the mirror, a straight nose pointed back at me and two pudgy cheeks enhanced my confusion.

"Hey Stace, Stacey, no," I coughed. "I'd say; hi gorgeous," I shook my head, "no that's cringey, what about a wink? Maybe a brow shrug could do." I rehearsed, slyly shrugging my eyebrows as I smiled at the weirdo that reflected in the mirror.

"She can't resist that." I muttered to myself, hanging my backpack on my shoulders and slipping my phone in the side pocket of the quilted jacket that covered my white shirt.

I walked out of the door and locked it, hurrying out of the house.

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The alarms went off, they blared, but it wasn't for what I primarily wanted, I hated recess too, he was waiting, I thought. Aaron was with his intimidating hockey team, they were probably hovering around my locker waiting for me to appear so they can bruise my fragile feelings, Aaron evidently hates me so much for getting fame, he hates a competition, but am I still his rival? Haven't I lost all my fame?

I nonchalantly stuffed my backpack with all the papers on my desk, praying I would drop them in my locker before Aaron appeared. I tottered towards the hallway; Chester and his friends weren't there, a sigh of relief escaped my lips as I looked at my unaccompanied locker, but walking quickly towards my locker I saw Stacey; her whitish, unruffled, well-rounded face bowed down to her hand that held a phone in it; tapping and scrolling up and down, she looked very peachy as she let out mere laughs from where she rested behind her back on the walls of the hallway, her hair; a blonde lingering ponytail that hung freely behind her and her lips; a light pinkish, evidently tender, endued flesh...

"Shit." I mumbled, quickly redirecting my gaze from her to my locker as her head turned towards me, but it wasn't me she was looking at, why would she look at me?

The fragrance of a very exquisite perfume crossed my nostrils and made me seize my breath, why do I know that smell? The question was quickly followed with a submerging foreboding. I closed my locker to a quintessential beautiful boy in a hockey jersey, his thick arms evident from the hands of the white hockey jersey, his white slender hand held in it- a long hockey stick, his wavy jet black sheeny hair rested on two broad shoulders, his face; a grim countenance, smooth skin, familiar face- It was Aaron!

I gasped heavily in fright, dropping the phone in my hand to the marbled ground, he came with his usual friends, his intimidating friends- Jason, Mike, Diego and Stanley, just after Aaron, Jason is my second biggest foe, his scornful looks and disdainful expressions that nearly streak down tears from their ducts.

"Woah-oh!" Aaron exclaimed whilst walking up to me.

My eyelids shut instantaneously; sorely anticipating the insults and taunts, my pulse was palpitating nervously. But I didn't hear him say a word, none of them did in fact, but I still waited, I still anticipated it with shut eyelids.

Slowly my eyes flickered open when I heard the cheery masculine voices in the hallway; Aaron was playing ice hockey with his friends in the hallway. They let me go? Without a word? I wondered. Bending down to pick my phone that I fearfully dropped to the floor when they walked up to me, but I realized something uncanny when I cast my face to the ground- my phone! It wasn't there! I looked forward and realized Aaron and his friends had turned it to a puck, passing and dribbling it everywhere in the hallway.

"Let me have my phone." I demanded with a wavering voice, stomping towards them.

"Well come get it." Aaron smirked, driving my phone to Jason who foully laughed at me as I ran after my phone with helter-skelter moves.

"What's keeping you big boy?" Aaron snickered, hurling my phone away. They scornfully laughed and skated away, I couldn't do anything more than glare at them as they triumphantly giggled and left the hallway, I fought back tears at the intimidation with what seemed like all my might, I would not break down, I'm stronger than this. I thought.

"Hey," The voice was ecstatic and calm, it belonged to a girl, and the tap on my shoulder was from a very soft, tender hand. I turned around, dropping my cerulean eyeballs directly on Stacey.

I puffed nervously as I saw her smile at me.

"Here's your phone." She handed it towards me. "And sorry about those 'jerks'," She rolled her eyes as she enunciated the jerks. "I hope you're not hurt?" Stacey asked, looking caringly at me, her pleasant face personifying perfected elegance.

"Yes, yeah...I ...err..." I stuttered unusually which made me somewhat furious with myself because I normally possessed perfect self-composure, at least until Stacey walked up to me.

"No I'm fine thanks." I managed to say amid vertex nervousness.

"Well," She chuckled softly. "Your phone might need a repair." She smiled again, deepening the two hollow dimples on her cheeks. "It hit badly against the wall." She concluded with a smile as I withdrew the phone from her hand.

"It's fine, thank you Stace." I blurted out.

It was a careless utterance, a tactless one in fact, and with the way she furrowed her brows portrayed an expression of confusion and evidently she was wondering how I knew her name and why I shortened it to such a cordial sobriquet.

"Stacey, I hear it all the time." I tittered nervously amid sheepish smiles, trying to in my tiniest normalcy.

"Oh." She chuckled. "So what's your name?" She asked.

"I'm Trevor, Trevor Stewart." I responded, after summoning momentary adequate self-confidence.

"Oh! Of course, how could I forget the scientific genius?" Stacey softly laughed.

Of course she wasn't supposed to care, it was just a science fair, but why was I hurt? Why did I feel slightly infuriated that Stacey forgot me?

"I guess it just didn't matter." I uttered rakishly.

"Hmm," Stacey toned, slightly squidging her face. "I just forgot, Trevor. Anyways go get your phone fixed, some pieces are missing." She uttered soberly and turned away.

"Umm, Stacey." I maundered, taking in a large quantity of environmental air.

She stopped and turned towards me; raising her eyebrows.

"D'you mind if you and I," I paused, forcing saliva down my utterly dry throat. "Hang out, some other time?" I asked, casting my eyes to the floor.

Stacey sniffled a laugh, a blushing laugh.

"You and I, on a date?" Stacey giggled, walking closer to me and peering closely at my eyes.

The proximity was very close, her head was almost leveled with my ears as she stood very closely in front of me, raising her eyes a bit as she looked at my face.

"No, no, no." I quickly said. "It's really not a date, nothing of that such, for now. It's just two people tryna make acquaintance." I heaved a heavy sigh, exhaling crammed air.

"Hmm," Stacey deeply sighed. "I don't know what to say Trevor, I'm gonna have to think about it okay." She gently rubbed my shoulder, smiling sunnily.

The palpitations of my pulse ignited as her hand touched my shoulder, again I rebuked my faltering unflappability, this isn't me! I cried.

"Yes of course, take all the time you need." I nervously managed to say, avoiding her eyes.

"See ya." She turned and walked away.

"Yeah, see ya." I mumbled, sighing deeply.

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, wrapping my forehead in my palms, feeling dead triumphant. But she didn't say yes. I painfully remembered.

My phone! I realized. How bad is it? I wondered; raising it to my face and pressing the power button; its screen was awfully cracked with a few fragments missing so nothing displayed as I vehemently pressed the power button.

"Fuck Aaron." I whispered, putting the phone back in my locker.

I quickly walked to the school cafeteria as Mrs. Clara (lunch lady) smiled at me, the spick and span apron that hung over her neck gave her a cook's sense of nobility. She always smiles at me, ever since the science fair she had been unusually kind and nice to me; surreptitiously giving me more than the usual lunch.

"Hey Trevor."She grinned.

Her middle-aged, pale, withering visage was enhanced with two motherly, lovely smiley dimples, she's not young at all, her hands now agitated as they were propped against the counter, but her voice was still firm and unflustered, though they made a partial exposition of her age- sixty-four.

"Mrs. Clar'." I smiled, equally broadly.

"I've been waiting for you for so long, where've you been?"

Yes she's right, it was totally unusual of me to time lag my lunch, I never delay my lunch, the dissatisfying two slices of bread I have literally every morning is my objective motive of always being the first in line.

"Notes, updating my notes." I lied.

"Hmm, you weren't in class on the day of lectures?" She asked, dishing out two pieces of meat loaf and sundae in a carton.

"Yes I was, just didn't write." I smiled, mostly at the package she wrapped in the carton than at her.

"Well you ain't gon' win another scholarship that way Tre'." She smiled angelically as her lips slightly quivered.

I liked the moniker she addresses me with; it makes me feel a bit close to her, like we were actual family.

I tittered at her remark.

"Here," she pushed the carton to me, "an extra meat loaf." She whispered, winking.

"Thanks Clar'." I grabbed the carton and walked away.

***

"The assignment is on page one, four, one of your physics textbook, know you submit it first thing tomorrow." Mr. Clarke (Physics Teacher) shouted on top of his voice as students nonchalantly walked away; nobody actually likes his class, nobody even takes him serious, the generic assumption was that he would forget he walked into this class and gave us any homework, whatsoever.

Antithetically I quickly ticked the page and left the classroom, piling all the stacks of exercise papers from my desk between my arched arm; walking hurriedly towards the hallway. I had not reached the beginning of locker rows when I noticed someone smiling at me, she had two hollow, round dimples on her cheeks, why was Stacey standing in front of my locker? Why does she originate palpitations of my pulse? I wondered as I walked to her.

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I know it might be a bit boring but believe me it gets better...

Please vote and comment your thoughts :)