High school for most kids is looked upon as a jail rather than a learning institution. I always hated school but then again, I think a lot more people were in the same boat as I. I guess I wanted to feel that I had a significant reason for hating my classmates, the utter thought of school, being able to stand out of my crowd of classmates and be able to say I hate school because of all of them, and not for the general 'I hate homework' statement.

Of course I had the cliques of the school. The drama team would be off by the theatre, making out in the odd corners of the hallways and doorways, standing around in circles, getting into random meaningless fights, running off, crying, having other fellow drama kids comfort them; the whole kit n' kaboodle. The druggies who made their den in the bathroom, basically trafficking who could come in and out. Bouncers if you will. Venturing in wasn't a really good idea. Not because I was afraid that they were going to do anything to me, but I guess when they were stoned out of their mind, pee never seemed to hit the toilet, at all. The jocks accompanied the athletic locker room hallways which smelt of ass 100% of the time. Always having their shirts off at whatever time possible to show off their muscular superiority to the rest their friends, and of course the females. I always found this to be quite queer. Don't ask me why I just thought it was weird...but the thought of half naked guys walking around in and out of the locker rooms, slappin each other yelling 'good game out there!" just didn't rub me the right way (no pun intended). And then we had the 'ladies, or 'princesses', and others (what I like to call the "entourage") would traverse the classroom hallways, talking about their dates, what they were going to do this weekend, how many wine coolers they had the other weekend and the ever typical guy/girl conversations that got on my nerves.

And then there was us, me, everyone else. The loners, I guess. If I had to give myself a title that is. We had our own little group. Like nomads, we would travel from spot to spot around the school, trying not to bother any of the other cliques along the way, and moved if we felt unsatisfied. We had our interests, most of which were considered pretty 'nerdly' in high school standards. Our interests in computers, gaming, books to a degree and our humor revolving around video games was something that, to enjoy or appreciate, you would have to acquire after a long period of time or mearly be born with that the sense of taste. To others, if you weren't outside where the sun hit your skin directly an doing something, it was a waste of time.

Whatever the case, it was just another day in tenth grade biology. A couple of us had the class together and arguing about some random video game that was great or debating whether Star Trek was better that Star Wars...something of that nature. There was a fellow classmate of mine, lets call him David, who I have known for many years. For as long as we have been friends, he has always had a bit of distance between him and social interaction. He was pretty tall, close to 6 feet which at the time, was pretty tall for our group of friends. He wasn't the skinniest guy on the earth but he wasn't fat. He had that extra baggage to him that any extra large t-shirt could cover up. And with one of his interests being an immense computer user, his skin was very white cream color, with just a hint of tan on arms; or maybe they were freckles. Either way, David was very apprehensive and shy to even his friends. When he spoke, he spoke with a tremble in his voice, as if he wasn't sure or even afraid to speak. Even his hands seemed to shake all the time. I almost wanted to ask him why; it was even a common thing with his parents, but it was just one of those things you just live with and try to understand.

I really don't understand why I did this to him. He didn't deserve it. I stooped myself to the level of the jocks giving swirles or wedgies to the nerds or picking fun at the kid who just tripped down the hallway spilling his books everywhere on the floor. I felt nothing at that time. I was just staring at him. Staring at how he looked. Thinking about how he talked, our past, everything, what made him tick. I had a bottle of Code-Red Mountain Dew in my hand. It was nearly empty. I twisted off the cap. It was an average cold winter day. His coat was on his chair. I looked over to him one last time, and gave a devilish smirk towards him, as if I was changing personalities on him...becoming some sort of evil person. Hoping he would see my smart ass grin and my bottle of Dew hovering over his jacket. He didn't look up. I grew impatient and I dumped the rest of the drink on his coat, coating the insides of jacket with a sticky soda substance. The bottle finished and I threw the bottle away and walked back to my table, still staring at him with my grin. He hadn't noticed. Eventually, I went back to my work, looking up at random intervals to see if he noticed anything. But class ended and I walked out without looking back at him, not knowing if my deed had made him angry, sad, or feel any emotion at all. As if I had forgotten, or didn't care.

To this day, I still wonder why I did that random act of cruelty. Why didn't he talk normal like us? Why was he so shy? Why did I do that to him? He wasn't so different from me. It was like I did that just to be mean to him.

And it was at lunch that day, I sat at my table of friends; the six seater table with his one seat open. When he came down towards our table, he walked right past us, sat down at a lone table, and ate in silence. I don't blame him at all. I'm sorry David. I know this does no good for you now, but it helps me.