Good Boy, Bad Boy

4: BFFs or not

"Well, you look like shit." I groggily say when I see Trevor staring into the distance as he sits on his bed.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock. I haven't slept at all." He rubs his head.

"No one forced you to drink so much." I shrug.

"Someone did force me actually. Elliot." 

"And you listened to him?" No wonder those two are friends, they're both idiots.

"Of course I did. He's my best bud. He's not as bad as he looks." 

"Yeah..." I roll my eyes and stand up to stretch.

"My girlfriend from back home broke up with me." I stop mid stretch and look at him dumbfounded.

"You had a girlfriend?" 

"Not anymore. She was low-key a bitch anyway. I mean, who breaks up through a phonecall?! Come on!" 

"Why did you date a bitch?" I ask him curiously.

"I don't know. She was hot. But I kinda changed my taste in partners. I don't know what I saw in her."

"Then why did you drink if she doesn't mean anything?" 

"Because I was angry she broke up with me." Wow, I thought he couldn't be a bigger prick, but here we go.

"You sure are narcissistic." I say.

"Not as much as before. I kinda don't like myself lately." 

"I don't even wanna know how you were before." He probably walked with a mirror in his hand. Pfft. 

"I hate my past self." Is this conversation getting deep or am I still sleeping?

"I hate my present self." Why exactly am I telling him this...?

"Nothing good will come out of hating yourself." He looks like he's honestly giving me advice.

"Okay. I think this conversation should end here." I walk into the bathroom.

"Didn't expect you'd open up anyway..." He mumbles when I stand up but loud enough for me to hear it. And he's actually right. As much as I don't want to admit it, I'm not much of an open book. It's hard to make me talk so he should feel privileged that we got this far. The prick.

Classes today were just like yesterday, I spend my time doodling more than actually taking notes. The only interesting thing was that Trevor and Elliot sat unusually close in every class. I mean close to me. I find that very weird but also I kinda expected it. I don't know what their plan is but I don't want any part of it.

There's nothing better than taking a hot shower and laying in bed while enjoying what I do most, writing. Yeah, maybe it's a little weird a grown ass teenager writes shitty little poems in his free time, but what can I say. I enjoy it. It calms me and keeps my mind off of everything else. I focus on writing it, therefore, I don't think of anything else. I haven't shown these to anyone and I never ever plan to, these are close to my heart, I've opened up my emotions in them and if anyone ever finds them I'm done for. My whole intimidating, bad boy image is going down in the gutter.

"Hey Ash..." Trevor starts as he turns on the chair in our room. "I need some help." 

"What?" I put down my notebook on the bedside table.

"You write so maybe you could help me with this English homework?" He smiles innocently.

"I have better things to do." I pick up my notebook again.

"Oh, come on. It's not that hard, please. Pretty please." He pouts. Aw, cute. Wait, what am I thinking? No, ugly, ugly. He's a wiener.

"I gotta head out. Sorry." I put my notebook in my drawer, pick up my leather jacket and head out, leaving no space for him to plead anymore.

I would've definitely helped him if I didn't leave. I made that mistake of helping others too much in middle and high school. I learned my lesson now. I help those who help me. I won't always be the bigger person. That's the main reason I became so closed off too. People used my kindness and I was the one that ended up hurt. Not anymore. I've had enough of that.

"Finally some fucking peace and quiet." I find a little bench between two trees at the back of school and sit down. With my earphones on I can enjoy my free time. I take out the box of cigarettes from my pocket and light one. Yeah, I smoke. I started about a year ago, but I don't do it a lot. I brought a couple of packets, more like sneaked in a couple in the suitcase. My mom doesn't know, if she did she'd probably put me in rehab or something. She're way too against it.

"Who do I see here?" Oh, just fucking perfect. Just when I thought I'd found some peace this jerk appears.

"Piss off Elliot." He sits next to me.

"So you smoke huh?" 

"Obviously." He takes the cigarette from my hand.

"Hey, what the fuck?" He just smirks and takes a whiff. He gives it back to me, but I throw it. I'm not touching the same place his lips touched.

"You just wasted a perfectly good cigarette." That's it. I can't stand this.

I stand up and fast walk away from him, but he runs after.

"Why don't you like me?" He puts one arm around my shoulders.

"Because you're annoying, a jerk, self-centered, an idiot, stupid...what else, the list goes on." I pry his arm off.

"Wow, thanks Ash. You've only known me a day and you just made these assumptions." Does he actually sound hurt or is he faking it? 

"A day's enough for me." 

"Try getting to know someone before you judge them next time okay?" He pushes me to the side and rushes off.

So, he was hurt. I stand in my spot for a second before I go back to my room.
Why do I feel bad now...