Pyromaniac.

1. unprotected sex and the recovery kid.

(Elliot; Send Nudes by Allday) This is just to get a feel for where you guys are with this story idea so I'm gonna need a lot of feedback and a lot of patience because the next chapter won't be out until probably 2017. Here we go:

|1.| unprotected sex and the recovery kid.

School sucked.

From every point of view, every way you could interpret it, every single nook and cranny, school was shit. School was shit when Oliver attended and school was shit after he graduated and left behind his stupid ass legacy. He was the recovery kid, big man on campus who'd survived depression with anger issues and a whole lot of court cases.

Oliver Remmer was it. He was the end all be all of my entire high school career and he was what everyone expected me to be: a carbon copy of my brother. A broken kid from a broken past with trauma and hate, they wanted me to be that. They wanted me to get bad grades just so they could make me learn. They wanted me to get into fights so I could realize the meanings of life. They wanted me to be this little clay ball all disfigured that they could mold and finally shape to be a helpful citizen in society.

Oliver wasn't the best role model but he was that sliver of humanity that they saw and ever since he'd graduated, I became a tragedy awaiting their beacon before I was considered an individual.

"Elliot."

I was sitting in another filler class, bored out of my mind when the teacher had called on me. With my feet propped on the table in front of me, I'd had my eyes turned down to the book nestled right below my ripped knees. The sides of the pages were slightly burnt by the lighter in my pocket, I'd had a fun night with some kid named Parker that I'd met downtown and we'd burnt up a few letters that his dead dad had left him. The kid had issues.

My book had barely escaped the flame.

Looking up, I'd caught framed eyes behind glasses as the teacher drowned on and on about the importance of safe-sex. I'd been in this class the year before, I knew what safe sex was, hell I probably had a better sex life then the teacher sitting in front of me his narrowed eyes pointed at me. He was also the track coach, I believe, fast enough to catch me if I ran out and smart enough to know who I was without asking.

"Hm? Mister..." Looking at the name tag on his chest as if I wasn't sure who he was, I raised a brow with a false model-student smile giving the people the show they asked for, "Anderson? What can I do for ya?"

Tapping the board, he raised a brow, "You can start paying attention in my class."

Anderson was a young teacher, new to actually teaching when the decrepit health teacher retired and they couldn't find a replacement fast enough. Anderson didn't really know me besides the fact that I always had medical notes to sit out of his class and I was absolutely sure he knew that almost all of them were forged.

My therapist wouldn't write me notes that I didn't need.

"I know everything you have to teach me already." I shrugged, laying back in my seat a bit more and closing Ender's Game on my lap. I'd read this book a million times and it was still one of my favorites maybe it was due to the fact that I was considered the runt of my brother and I. Could really relate ya know?

Crossing my arms in front of me, he walked closer and I felt Anderson knock my feet off the desk before leaning on it. Turning to face me with his hands tapping on my desk, he plastered a small smirk on his face as if my disobedience was somehow amusing, "Oh really?" That shocked me... Teachers never really gave me a chance to explain before tucking me into detention and sealing the deal with a tiny goodnight kiss on my record.