Safety At His Command

He can’t remember the night before. Not really anyway. More specifically, he can’t remember details or faces which means he can’t answer his mother when she asks him about his night last night, or where they went, or what they did, and specifically who “they” were. It worked out, for the most part. What his parents didn’t know was that “they” didn’t exist. William Saunders was a nobody in school, which meant he was the epitome of a loner. He belonged everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He was the face that could fit within enough groups to be seen by someone but then again easily disappear if he wanted to, and with the way the last few years had gone, he wanted to more than anything. Disappearing was delightful and he made such an art out of it. The guy knew how to read the room, the crowd, wherever he was and make an exit. Entrances on the other hand still needed work, but who really had it all together at seventeen? William scoffed at the thought. No one had it together at seventeen. The whole school at Braves High seemed to think otherwise. They were of the privileged. Their parents breathed success and crapped material goods. Cars were the craved item of seventeen and it seemed like every able body within the building had one. Not just any car either. Not like his, the one he worked his ass off for that still needed to hit the shop every other weekend. The vehicles the privileged folk had were nothing lower than top of the line sports cars or SUVs or don’t even get him going on the way that the brand made you more or less popular either, because that was madness. What really got on his nerves was the fact that these kids could brag about what they had, like they paid for it. They didn’t pay for it. They bitched and moaned about how Suzie got one yesterday for acing study hall like it was an achievement and now they needed one too because they did far in the same class. Or, oh, if he had to hear one more story about some jock running his wheels into a tree and coming in the next day with the more expensive V8 on the line, he was going to be sick. William grimaced at the thought of parents being able to provide for their i***t spawn like that but then again, it was the area’s fault. Him and his parents lived in a tri-sectioned town, which basically meant that there were three, very different subdivisions within it that all happened to share the same resources and the schools were of the items they shared. It certainly made for a very… colorful life… William rolled his eyes at the concept as he pulled into the school parking lot that morning. Alongside his coupe sat two BMWs and the dolled up chicks that went with them scoffing at his cobalt blue two door piece of junk. It was fine, he told himself. They weren’t worth their hype, he thought as he looked up in his rear view mirror. The only person that mattered would be walking around the corner as she did every day at the same time with her group of punks. It always struck him as odd given she was never dressed like them. She had no piercings, that he knew of. She didn’t wear makeup, not even lip gloss. She didn’t dye her hair, not even the tips like some of the double standard schmucks did. William rolls his eyes at that one. A bunch of cheerleaders thought they were something special for dying an inch of their hair blue to support their football team, then leaned into the punk clique pretending to be hardcore, like they knew what it meant. William closed his eyes trying to rid the memory from him as if it had burned him in particular but not even the girl he’s hoping to walk in with today, cared about their stunt. She simply watched them act out and leave. Her brow never knit in frustration for being called out. She never really gave them any more time than a look that was caught by a fellow friend and morphed into something else entirely. He envied that about her, the way that she could just move on like nothing happened. William wished he could ignore past events but no matter how quickly they came and went, they still lingered, making it hard for him to move on. His peers could be awful to each other. He knew because he was usually the butt of the joke. While other kids could grow up and away from their parents, William could not. His father, whom he had almost all of his life as his English teacher, was extremely awkward and could not let go of the paternal side of his person while at school and teaching his class. It was at best, cringe-worthy to deal with… and his seventh period of the day which meant he would have to stay when he preferred leaving after lunch. William sighs the umpteenth time this morning about how much he hates his father’s class because it’s his fathers and the system is so cheap regardless of its wealthy location, that they won’t put in for another teacher. Gods, he would even be fine with a student teacher taking over, just so that he didn’t have to hear another Dad joke at his expense, or what was worse, comments. The man was a critic about all things and when he would make a change within himself, oh how he would hear about it. Not only his teacher would cross the line, but his father would, and that being so, give the right to the student body to tease him mercilessly about it. “But not today,” he murmured to himself as Malorie Clare, his would be not-so-punk-girl friend made it around the bend of the lot with her friends. Just yesterday he had noticed the way she had been looking at him. Her silver-grey eyes wide and waiting for his next move, held him in place while one of the students beside her teased him about an answer he had given in class. To this moment, he still doesn’t know what he said to get her attention, but while he had it, everything else slipped away and he knows now he would do anything to get it back. He checked himself over once more as she passed his place in the lot so that he didn’t come off as creepy, waiting for her in his car. Next he made sure the gel had set in his hair and didn’t leave any white residue anywhere. He did not want to look dirty to her but certainly not like any other douche bag that attended Braves High. If he was being honest with himself, he was aiming more for a rocker image without totally being the part since “loner” didn’t exactly come with a dress code. It was truly anything to be seen by her at this point, and if he had to double down and purchase those god awful UFO jeans, he would f*****g do it because it turned her head. Once or twice William had caught her checking them out on the guy she walked with most of the time. He still doesn’t know the guy’s name but does he need to care? No. He just needs to know how to take his spot. It killed him to see how she played with the size of them and assured him that he was big enough for one, and she could sit alongside him in the other leg. One thing led to another in his mind and he found himself walking out of the classroom without a word to handle his predicament. Another time he envied their closeness, the way she willingly sectioned off his hair to dye his bangs red in chemistry. She didn’t dye it… no, no, but she did touch his hair and oh how the guy got a kick out of it. The guy nearly looked like he would kill a man while she parted it for him, laying his head down on her lap and snickering while the other guys ran their mouths about it. William told himself they were indefinitely not together once more before straightening up to get out of his car and stride up to their group. His eyes flicked right over to where she stuffed her hands in her hoodie and how she absolutely did not hook her arm in his and took it as a sign. He and Malorie Clare still had time. He’d be what she needed. He just needed to learn her first.