Adam - A Novella

1

"Faggot."

My kiddy appearance, with my freshly painted nails sparkling in the sunlight pouring in through the dusty window frame, sparked interest from the burly man standing over me. Before I could stutter, I felt a burning sensation preceding a gust of wind on my flushed cheek. A stinging pain stabbed my waterline, and I felt a watery tear roll quickly down my cheek, causing an extra line of warmth on my left. I recovered from my unconscious recoil only moments before being blasted by another blow, and my small body felt only dizziness and fear as hurdles of words and phrases I didn't recognize came my way, paining my ears by the increase in volume. After what felt like hours, my father finally huffed, kicking the ground and turning, unintentionally sending a blast of dust over my mother's purply-black skirt which I had been trying on. I watched him walk away before staring at the mess of gloss that hadn't dried properly and had now glopped over my overgrown cuticles. I stared at the door he'd slammed before slowly re-standing, making my way to the bathroom, my mom's skirt sadly dragging behind me, no longer reflecting the childish creativity and curiosity I had exhibited an hour before.

The old metal doorknob that was so used to being forced into its closed state felt nothing like the smooth, silver rail handle my school's classrooms had. It took no effort to turn and slid open easily. I walked through the door with swagger, a walk style that required no play-up. I was confident, I was swag. I was Adam. My friends made my presence known quickly as soon as I was spotted as the new coolest thing in the colorless, bleak walls of the geometry room. Well, I call them my friends, but they're more like acquaintances. I don't talk to too many of them after school, except for a select few, who are of equal stature to me in the social hierarchy. It was easy to tell who was who, as I glanced over the forgettable faces cramping my desk space. A guy with streaks of blonde who looked fresh out of a movie nodded at me with a slight upturn to his lips. A girl with freakishly long, at least two-inch, long lashes who was smacking on some gum squinted her eyes at me with favor but didn't smile more than she did when she looked to her lookalike friends with varying types of snacks, piled on their desks, and noticeably a couple of vape pens as well. A girl with long braided ginger hair and braces and a person with shaved blue hair and no obvious gender didn't even look at me. And of course, there was Thomas, hopping into and out of the seat next to me in boundless energy.

"Adamm." Thomas has been my best friend since middle school, ever since he stole my juice box, and I proceeded to beat the shit out of him. "How'd things go last night? Y'know, with..." He smirked and jerked his head toward the door, as if someone was coming in, although I know exactly who he was referring to. "Nah, she was busy, y'know." I laughed sadly, as if I cared at all, and he clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Man." I thought about lying to him more, but last time I told him I got with Avalin, he asked her friends—who knew way better than any story I could have skewed. I began to get in my head about her when the scratchy-sounding bell rang. The girls to my right scurried to stuff their vapes deep in their bag, while slowly sliding out an ink pen. The others around me tapped their writing utensils, already bored, even though class hadn't even started. The teacher stood up, and after one more scan of his phone, he tossed it lightly on the desk, which flipped and plopped gently. He began talking, moving his hands an uncomfortable amount, and before he said the magic word which got me to not give a crap the rest of this half of the year, ("Assignment"), he gestured to the door, which got me to take out the Air Pod I had just put in my ear back out, my left still blasting XXXTentacion.

"We have a new student joining us this semester, so please treat him with respect..." The boy who was cued to walk in was tall, but not quite as tall as me, with silky brown hair that fell perfectly into place as his hoodie slid off, revealing a few cow licks that accented his almond-shaped face which was encrusted with what looks like weeks of lack of sleep, shown with his dark eye bags and slight tear trough wrinkles. He looked at me with his baby blue eyes, whose light pulsed with the pain of years of trauma that I couldn't begin to guess. I would have looked away, but something about the way he jostled his fluffy hair with anxiety and turned his stud in his nose piercing, the way he walked like he wasn't scared to be here, but anxious enough to not want to stand out, made me stare longer than I wanted to. I began to shake off the weird feeling and settle into my cold, hard chair when Mr. Rose's warm voice interjected.

"Caleb, would you like to introduce yourself, name, pronouns, and a fun fact about you?" Caleb. That name. I whipped around hard enough to give me whiplash, and suddenly, the doe-shaped, oval eyes that seemed so familiar yet so intriguing to me with such a strikingly beautiful cerulean color came back to me, from years of being lovingly stared at, played with, hung out with. Caleb Abott. I barely heard him cycle through the questions quietly, only registering his soft, light voice floating through the air. I heard Thomas snickering next to me as he shared his fun fact, that he wants to be a professional photographer. I sniggered autonomously, but I couldn't help but think how cool that was. I'd have to tell him later when I have the chance. I pulled out some loose papers of my bag, overwhelmingly inpatient to get to passing period so I could track him down, without talking to him now to seem weird.

I followed his gray-hooded figure down the hall, trying to seem casual, but my mind was running wild with a million thoughts and ideas. "Yo, Caleb." I yelled out when I thought I got close enough, but only then did I notice the thin white cord dangling from his hidden ears. I speedwalked, with the same walk style I'd pick up when I'd go to harass someone. I was fast, but his lean, long legs seemed to make him naturally faster without effort. I tried not to stare at the way his calf muscles rippled under his skin. He must be in sports. I caught up quickly, tapping his shoulder. He turned around, eyes wider than they already are. He looked confused for a second, and I leaned my weight onto my heels to make my figure more apparent. I speak body language. He took a moment to glance at me, and after a glance over my environment to make sure nobody was watching, I flashed him a smirk. In less than a second, his jaw went agape, and he wrapped his skinny arms around me, yelling my name. I tapped them in respect before pushing him off, though, just in case anyone came out of a classroom.

"Adam! I didn't recognize you! How have you been?" He rambled excitedly, not even noticing how rough I had been with him. I shrugged. "I'm so excited to see you," he continued, his teethy smile taking up the entire bottom half of his face. I shrugged again, looking away before I stared. I have a bit of a staring problem, I've noticed. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around, as if to calm his excitement, but when I did it moments following, it seemed to dull him more than anything. "I've missed you." Seemed to be his final reach for connection, and it almost worked. I shoved my hands in the crevices of my bent elbows, from their previous lint-fiddling position in my pocket. I shrugged but looked him in the eyes again to keep his attention. God, those eyes. Blue eyes are already so rare, but how rare was it to have it on a brunette? And no hint of green around the pupil, like hazel?

"Did you want to hang out after school, catch up a bit?" I threw out in a voice that didn't even sound like mine. He searched for my expression, and whatever emotion I was conveying he approved of because he gave me an astute nod and turned toward the direction he was facing. "Outside the office." He walked off, putting his earphones back in, leaving me stranded in the middle of the hall. I glanced around, genuinely excited to finally talk, really talk, with my old friend for the first time in a long time. I began to walk back to my class, failing to cover my hopping walk style.