Sorry | Murphamy AU | vol.1

1. Project

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Song: Intro

Artist: The XX

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{This fanfiction is in the middle of being edited. Please understand that all mistakes will be fixed. Thank you, and happy reading!}

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Murphy P.O.V

No, dear God, no. Not a group project! My heavy-weighing head flops onto the surface of my faux-wooden desk. I wince at the self-inflicted pain. I think the sound even causes a few heads to turn, but I brush it off, ignoring the odd glances. With my luck, I'll probably end up being paired with somebody extremely annoying- whom am I kidding? They're all annoying bastards. A crap-school like this comes equipped with a load of shit-students who only have one concern, and that's whether or not they're going to get fucked, or be fucked by the time they graduate. It's the disgusting reality of this town.

Mrs. Abby continues to pair us up, and as she calls the names, I notice something about the pairings; Mbege with Atom, Jasper and Monty, Clarke and Finn, Raven and Wick, wow. Everyone is getting their preferred choice, and I haven't been paired yet, but I will be the unlucky one, because it's impossible to be lucky... if you're me. I don't have a preferred choice quite simply because I don't have friends. I don't like to socialize with these ignorant assholes. I just keep to myself, that way I can't get hurt and I can't hurt anyone. Lord knows I learned that lesson a bit too late.

"John Murphy and," she scans the room while I hold my breath, slowly feeling the pain of the carbon dioxide build-up inside my cigarette-burnt lungs. If I get cancer before I'm twenty, I'm going to blame it all on her- my mother. At this point, it's not even an "if". I'm fairly certain that the evenings of chain-smoking on the couch have already given me the disease.

The teacher's eyes finally land on a familiar head, sitting two rows in front. Oh fuck me. Fuck, me.

"And Bellamy Blake." My eyes flutter shut as I bite the inside of my cheek, breaking skin when I hear the sound of his name. I only stop when I taste iron. He is the absolutely the last person in this universe that I would ever want to do a project with. God dammit. I know I'm unlucky, but you have to draw the line somewhere right? Anyone- I'd settle for doing my project with anyone, but him, and that's coming from someone who hates everyone. We had gone to the same elementary school, and I guess you could have called him "my bully". He used to call me names and shove me in the halls, you know... the normal, typical bully, but that was until the fourth grade, when things got a bit out of hand. Harassment and a few broken bones were added into the mix, and I even have a scar on the back of my right arm due to being shoved into the side of a shelf. Ruthless torture. Bellamy Blake, John Mbege and Atom. I never cared to learn Atom's last name, his first is pretty unique as it is, but they were the ones who threw me into a personal little hell. Bellamy and Atom stopped when we got to middle school, but I still receive threats from Mbege, which I tend ignore. I already know that I'm a worthless piece of crap. My mom tells me that everyday before I leave for school. I never cared to leave hell. I like it here. It's warm, and it's where I know I'll end up soon, but soon can't come fast enough because now I have to deal with the fact that I have an astrology project with the fucker who made waking up in the morning, a regret.

Mrs. Abby continues to pair everyone and for some reason, I can't rip my eyes away from the back of his head. I have science, history and art with him. We never talk, we never exchange glances, we're practically strangers, but as he turns around and flashes me a surprisingly shy smile, I feel like I've know him for years, in a good way. I wonder why he's giving me such a sweet face. I don't recall a reconciliation, and I also don't like the fact that his smile is so pleasing to me.

My mother isn't good for much, but she did say this one thing after one of her break-ups that I've ingrained into my brain. "Everyone has an ulterior motive. If they say they don't, then they're lying. Good people don't exist, the only good thing about people is that they can give you sex." I tend to look at the beginning of the quote, however she isn't technically wrong-

My head snaps back down to my desk when the obnoxiously loud bell indicates the end of class. I take my time, stacking my books, grabbing my things, and casually walking out of class, but before I do, I stop for a second to wince, knowing that next is gym. I don't do gym. I usually get into fights and that's enough of a workout for me, plus I'm pretty scrawny as it is.

My mother seems to think that she can live off of Corona's, ecstasy, cheap cigarettes, apples and bread, so that's all we ever have at home. When I'm hungry, I sneak into her room, steal a few of her crumpled ones to go and buy something of substance.

I get to the door, but I feel a hand land on my shoulder. I'm a foreigner when it comes to contact with others. I can't remember the last time someone touched me in a non-violent way. It was probably Mom. She likes to drink, and smoke purple weed, and sometimes, she likes to giving me lazy hugs, which I resent her for. She tells me that she loves me, but then laughs at the joke. "Could you imagine?" she once said to me, and that was the day I came to the harsh reality that I'm better off dead.

"Hey, so, I'm really excited for this project, I have pretty cool ideas." Bellamy's unusually kind voice smiles. I tense, shrugging his hand off my shoulder. Oh yeah, Bellamy's into science. Great, he won't have a problem doing all of the work. I nod. "You should come over to my place after school so we can get started. My sister and my parents are out so it'll be just us." he speaks with enthusiasm, and I swallow hard, nodding slowly. Does he even remember me? I shove all the weird feelings that I'm experiencing and I throw on my usual mask.

"Sounds great, meet me by my locker." I instruct and he nods. I grab his hand, placing it flat on the nearest desk and taking one of Mrs. Abby's pens, writing my locker number on the back of his hand. 100.

"Great, see you later Murphy." he smiles, walking out and I find myself enjoying the sound of him speaking my name, for once in a kind tone.

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