"Remember class, your biology test is tomorrow and it is 35% of your grade! It is up to you whether you pass or you fail. We have been studying and going over the material for weeks now, so there will be no re-takes." Ms. Jenkins harshly said.
I sighed, knowing that I wasn't going to do well on that exam. Biology was one of my weakest subjects-along with math. English was my best subject since it was mainly writing and I loved writing. Writing was like an outlet for me, it helped me express my emotions. History was pretty easy for me, as well, since I had a great memory.
The bell rang, signaling that class was over and now it was time for eighth period. I had gym and after gym, I was free, only for a couple of hours. I made an agreement with
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It smelled like dirty, sweaty gym clothes. We were only allowed to take our gym clothes and get them washed on Fridays, so of course the locker room was going to reek. I threw my backpack onto the floor, like all of the other guys, and went to my locker.
I grabbed my hideous P.E uniform and went into the bathroom to change. I was self conscious about my body, all of the other guys were muscular and buff, there were girls that would kill to have their children and then there was me. My body was covered in scars and stretch marks, it was disgusting, especially for a guy.
I changed into my blood red shirt that had the school's logo on it and a green pair of knee-length shorts. I flushed the toilet so that everyone would think I actually went in to do my business. Then, I walked out, washed my hands, and entered the gym. I sat in my assigned destination, on the cold, hard, and dirty floor. When everyone arrived to the gym, class
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**
When I arrived home that day, the house was empty and my mom was nowhere to be found. I was grateful for that; she couldn't know about what happened at school. Not that she'd give a fuck, anyway. I hacked into her Gmail account and permanently deleted all the e-mails my school sent her.
Then I removed the batteries from the home phones and hid them in my drawers underneath my boxers.
I'm not anorexic, I don't have an eating disorder. I'm fine, I'm okay. Mr. Hank was overreacting, I'm as healthy as can be. I was light headed and dizzy, so I climbed into my bed and decided to take a nap. I woke up later that day at 8:45 and started getting ready for the stupid party. I took a shower and while I was roughly scrubbing the ugliness away, I tried to avoid looking at my body.
After my shower, I dried off with a towel. I put on some deodorant and began getting dressed. I put on a loose pair of jeans and a black and white plaid shirt. I also used a shit load of hairspray to get my blond hair into a quiff. I checked myself out in the mirror; I looked decent, but I'd look even better if I was a little