Just Because. (Jalex)

Chapter 4

I walked down the hallway, hoodie off, beanie still remaining on my head in a slouched manner. I made my way to the cafeteria, gritting my teeth out of habit. I had a lot of habits, mainly habits that I wasn't willing to change. One of these habits, it just happened that I glared at almost everyone I met or came in contact with. 

As I reached the cafeteria doors I noticed the normal cliques forming near their usual lunch tables. I rolled my eyes and busted through the doors. A sly smirk played on my lips as I shoved people out of the way, no matter what gender they were. I heard gasps and saw people physically shutter and cower away from me. 

At first when I started this act, this attitude, this role I managed to play, it came to a surprise to me just how many people cowered away from me. At the time I was nothing but this skinny short kid with a hideous accent all the girls adored. Even with my accent reeling in all the ladies, I still remained by myself. No one was worth my time then, and even now no one is worth it to me. 

But now? It's no surprise to me that people are scared of me. I stand at almost 6'0 tall, I'm not jacked but I do have nice muscles, and I have the attitude everyone hates. My accent is mainly faded now, but I know that if I wanted, I could still be reeling in the chicks. Everyone digs a bad boy, I could have anyone I wanted. 

But here I was, shoving everyone out of my way. That is, until I had reached Jack's group. I shoved all of his new friends, everyone surrounding him, but I did not shove him. I couldn't muster up the courage to shove him. He was tall, with the face like a baby, so innocent. That's what I blame it on, his innocence. Something I don't have, something I will not take from him. 

It was all confusing, really. Why was I so fast to steal the innocence and kindness of others, but when it came to him, there was nothing there. There was no urge to shove or kick, there was no gritting of my teeth. It was all replaced with confusion and some other feeling that was undetermined in my mind.

I continued to walk to my normal empty table in teeth-gritting silence. My table was in the back of the cafeteria, giving me a nice view of everyone else in the room. It had chipped blue paint and sharpie markings all over it. The surface was littered with doodles of penises, swear words, and much more shit. It was perfect, reflecting myself on it's rusty metal bars and screws. 

I never really ate lunch unless I brought something from home. The smell and sight of the cafeteria food threw off my appetite and made me want to throw up some serious chunkage. Usually, I sat back at my table and watched everyone else, harassing them, ruining their lunch. 

Except today I had taken up studying the new kid, Jack. As I watched and stared at him from afar I took note of how cozy he and Lynn looked. They sat close together and laughed. Her laugh sent a migraine my way, made my teeth chatter in frustration, and ears roll steam from the anger that built up. Her face wasn't ugly, but it wasn't the best either in my opinion. I wondered what possessed Jack to take interest in that thing.  A question of mine that would surely never be answered. 

She always wore leggings and had her hair in a tight pony tail, she was intelligent and she made sure everyone knew it. She was conceited and a down right bitch. She was the type to be friendly to your face but talk shit behind your back, and it made me furious. It irked me to no end. But what irked me more, was the fact that she was so damn cozy with Jack. It was his first day here, and apparently she couldn't resist but leaning on another boy's shoulder. 

I so badly wanted to get up and smack her, yell at her, tell her how much of a pathetic little bitch  she was, but I couldn't. I had to fight my urges, because she was Jack's friend. I didn't want to anger Jack, I didn't want to rip him away from his new friend, someone he obviously liked. I would not be that type of asshole. I would not stoop to a level lower than where I am at now. 

So, I watched, I stared, I glared, and I ignored it. I focused on anything but that table smack dab in the center of the cafeteria. I watched the people dumping their trays, choking down the barely edible food, I watched the couples basically making out at their tables. I just watched. 

Lunch was just a period consisting of thirty-five minutes of nothingness. It was bland and boring, everyone laughing with their mouths full like the disgusting pigs they are. I rolled my eyes at the whole room and reached into my backpack. I pulled out my notebook and flipped to the first page. I stared at those two pathetic paragraphs I had written earlier. Honestly, I contemplated if I should throw them away or not. However, no matter how much I really wanted to, I didn't. 

I may be a careless asshole but I was not going to fail English over some stupid assignment I didn't do because I was too much of a pussy. No, I was going to do this. Now, presenting it in front of the class on the other hand, that was a totally different story. But first thing is first, what makes me happy? 

I am a controlling, cold, careless, self-doubting asshole who has no realistic goals. Now, of course, this doesn't bring me my main source of happiness. However, if you want to dig deep inside to figure out what makes me happy, you have to know who I truly am first. So, I guess I will just have to explain myself. However, it may be hard for you, or anyone else for that matter, to understand my words and who Alex Gaskarth really is. Because in all honesty, I'm not entirely sure who Alex Gaskarth is myself. His existence confuses me, his lack of purpose and direction, his lack of 'happiness,' and his lack of communication. 

All I am sure of is my name is Alexander William Gaskarth, I was born in Essex, United Kingdom on December 14. I was blessed with that annoying accent that makes American girls melt, and unfortunately I moved to America with those girls. But it's not like my family just up and moved one day out of the blue because we thought it was a good idea or something. Not me, at least. I was ripped from my home at a young age, and forced to move to the land of the oppressed and unhealthy. My parents claimed they wanted a change in scenery, they were tired of staring at those old bed sheets that symbolized the exact reason why my family was torn apart like a hurricane decided to visit our home. They were tired of driving back and forth to work every morning on the same bland road, seeing the same bland people. 

To me it was all bullshit. Why try to fix something that isn't broken? But maybe that is the root of the problem after all, maybe I am too ignorant to realize that maybe everything here is broken. I wouldn't say moving made it any easier or better. I surely got worse, as everyone here can tell. I ruin the happiness of others, for what purpose? It brings me no real joy. Yeah, of course, I get that feeling of power that makes me giddy for awhile, but happiness? I don't even know the definition of long-term happiness. 

But, as I sit here, watching this new kid from a far. I can see he has happiness, something I yearn for. I can see the small smile plastered on his long, skinny face. His laughter that echos through the room. For once, I don't feel like ripping someone's voice box out. Not his, anyway. Because I find myself observing what real happiness is. Jack Barakat has real happiness. 

The bell rang, another thirty five minutes gone and wasted. I threw my journal in my backpack and stood up, cracking my back as I did so. I then proceeded with a sly smirk on my face to push people around so I could get the hell out of this over crowded cafeteria. 

I didn't notice it at first, be he hung back behind the crowd with his new friends, watching my every move. He watched me push through the mass of people. He bit his lip, dissecting the actions that were taking place by me. This was the only time he had really paid attention to me today, and it was a bloody scene.