Head Case

Chapter 6: Head Case

 

 

 

 

 

Waking up the next morning he turned on the television and flipped the channel to the cartoon station. He started watching an animation where monsters were tools for battling each other over places and things and to gain experiences. He started to get ready and go over his schoolwork. He walked up to the bus stop after eating some breakfast, and stood there in the cold on the November morning. This guy Blake he’d briefly been around was standing with him.

For a second or two, he stood there, then turned to Trev and said, “There’s going to be a pep-rally today. I hope you get stuck in detention and don’t go.” Trevor had no idea how to deal with this. It made him so angry, so livid, he couldn’t deal. That he could just say this without an uncomfortable feeling. He couldn’t control himself. He pivoted and punched Blake right in the gut. He felt terrible the moment it was done with. When the bus rolled up he just got on and rode to school without a word. That day he felt kind of relieved because he’d never actually struck back at someone before. No matter how many times. The thought stayed with him all day. It was like a rush of energy that went on for hours. He never knew ignoring bad vibes could feel so good. The day flew by instead of dragging on and he didn’t necessarily need to talk to anyone in order to keep a smile on his face. As opposed to at first how he felt bad about hitting his apparent “friend”. He still had no idea why he would say such mean things, but he no longer contemplated it. It wasn’t his concern and for now he knew he wouldn’t ever need to take anyone’s hostility. By lunch time he looked around for Michelle. Again, nowhere to be found, the lunch period was filled with quiet eating and the downing of one carton of 1% milk. Off to English class, he noticed a kid of meager build and a spacey disposition being picked-on by a rounder guy. Something about homework and how he wouldn’t let him copy it. There was an eerie absence of people in the hall. Everyone must already be in class. “Hey!” He said with a commanding tone.

“What?” said the large fellow. Trev was a bit intimidated. “Maybe he doesn’t have his homework.” He said with little hesitation. The guy looked at him funny. The kid looked freaked out. Like he was ready to bolt into the classroom, as the semi-large guy eased towards him, the kid did just that. The guy threw a fist that landed right on the lip. Trevor was knocked back almost by the same lockers where he met Alice. As the guy pressed towards him again, the adrenaline he felt surging kicked in and he kicked him in the leg above the knee.

The guy almost fell over and Trev then pushed him up against the opposite locker as hard as possible and walked into class. He felt so strange in class. The guy that was messing with his classmate wasn’t in his English class. Must’ve been bothering him about a different class. He tried to stop thinking about it while he did a worksheet. Walking out of class, he set out for fifth period feeling distraught about the conflict. After class he was stopped by an administrator that he attend detention for the transgression of he and the other student was caught on camera and it didn’t comply with school policy. Some things were worth getting in trouble for. What irony. He remembered this morning’s engagements. Fifth period, he was assigned to create a symphony and it wasn’t until class ended that he even got started on something. After class he decided not to go to detention or the pep-rally. He wouldn’t have a ride home otherwise so he said screw both of them. The bus ride home seemed as dull and dreary as ever. He never really paid much attention to who was riding with him and there weren’t many people on because of the pep-rally. He opened up his book-bag and put his headphones on, had his music in as he usually did. The scenery was passing by out the window and the winter air was bearing down on the inside of the bus. Through the blaring of the music, he felt a tapping on his shoulder. He pulled out his ear-phones and turned around. The guy behind him was looking back at him and said, “Hey that kid over there just spit on you.”  He looked down at his pants and saw a big wet spot. He looked back at the guy behind him. He sat there for a few. Confused, hurt almost. The anger of young hormones boiled up inside him. He got up and walked right up next to the kid in his seat, looking at the seat in front of him like he wasn’t even alive. Trevor grabbed him and said, “Did you spit on me?” The kid looked scared. “Hmmm?” Trevor grunted loudly. The young man panicked and pushed him away at the waist. Trev lost his cool. He swung at him striking him in the cheek and he fell back and hit his head on the window. When he stiffened back up the kid looked disheveled, like he was about to pass out. Trevor looked in horror at what he’d done. He couldn’t believe this was happening. How could he react this way over something so petty? He freaked out, embracing the victim of his violent episode. He leaned down and noticed no wounds or gashes. But, the kid still looked woozy and unwell. He looked at him on the verge of tears and clasped his head to hold it up. All of a sudden he felt a warm-airy feeling emanating from his hands. He looked down and saw a green light glowing from his entire palms. As soon as it came it stopped and he slumped back into his seat, unconscious. Trevor sat back down in his seat. Everybody was staring, but no one seemed to be saying anything. The guy behind him peered over and asked, “Dude, what’s the matter with you? Don’t you know he has problems?”

            “No.” Trevor said with an uneasy silence. He was terrified he didn’t mention anything about the light from his hands. He tried to shrug it off and relax. When he got home, not so easy it seemed. The faster it was running through his mind the more anxious he became. Finally, he was convinced the kid was fine. Looking at some schoolwork before he went to sleep. The following day was a bad omen.  The year was already strange enough compared to any he’d lived in his life. This went on for weeks. He didn’t even go to lunch. He was absolutely afraid of everyone and everything, as well as himself.

           

His life felt officially over and of his own devise. He only knew what his heart could tell him and it said, “You deserve to be lost in your own head now.”

            The silence in his life felt like something he could control. Even though he was standing in the halls with many people, he could somehow block it all out, lining his way through groups from class-to-class. Pretty much floating through his school life without a thought of much else, he didn’t want to think about much else. One day on a January afternoon, he called up Jamie and asked him if he wanted to go to the city.  “What for?” he asked. “To go walk around downtown or anything really.”

“No, not really.” He said. “Oh, okay. Well, I guess I’ll see you later.” After he hung up he decided to call Michelle. He had gotten her number the first time they talked, within two rings he had gotten her. They decided upon meeting at the park. Sure enough, she was there when he got there. He stood her face-to-face and said, “There’s no need for a third conversation. I will be your Boyfriend.” There was a lasting silence, and in a moment, she was filled with joy. “I knew you would!” she cried. He was so warm and excited. They hugged tightly, so much he almost picked her off of the ground. “Couldn’t this be love?” he thought. He wasn’t entirely sure. But, he could never have imagined feeling this good. A walk up the street and a kiss in the darkness led to chatting about seeing each other in school daily. (He’d become quite accustomed to random meetings and he liked the thought of a change.)

            Without a thought of this being his first real kiss, they said their leaves and separated to their homes in the darkness. Towards the end of November, he had gone through and worked on his songs with Where We Sleep at least once. The nature of playing the songs he’d written the lyrics to over the summer felt stagnant with school and everything that was going on. School days beginning and ending like watching the negatives run through the reel on a film projector. By the time Christmas rolled around he had nothing to do. As much as he craved to work on the music with his companions, he had to spend time with his family, as he was sure his friends were preoccupied too. He loved his family, but he just had this feeling like he needed to do more. At the dawn of Christmas day, he simply asked his Mom to order some band tees before dinner. She agreed, as his Dad was cascading gravy over sliced turkey meat. He was excited to have new things to wear to school when it started-up again and happy with his choices. Feeling terrific about having stuff from bands he admired and playing often. With his own band he knew he would use the formula he perceived rather than modeling after anyone else particularly. Many of the reasons for his songwriting were his own life, growing-up, and America, the country he lived in. The first day of school, around the 4^th of January, he was poised and ready-to-go. Most of all anticipating seeing Michelle. She was entrancing even as she had her eyes on her food or Crystal while at the lunch table, poking him just to say something. He’d never experienced anything the same as this before, as he had to keep biting his sandwich or whatever he got on a given day to keep from being inappropriately direct to her all the time with how things were going. Either that or inappropriately affectionate. He never seemed to buy time with her though. Always finished his food and coming up with a new way to say goodbye and get back to his schoolwork. She came over once or twice during the end of winter. In March, the wind howled outside the bus windows. Stop by stop; person by person. The aging feeling of school life began to feel like running on auto-pilot again. He didn’t see much of Michelle now. Too busy to form up with music and his compatriots either.

            Every day was like spinning in circles in the halls of Woodend High School. Each day shorter than the last, it was almost sort-of clear. Like there was no burden to be found around him, just things to be accomplished and time to be spent. But, of course, that didn’t last. It probably wasn’t supposed to.