Member
Festive
Melissa
LovelyComplex
Bender
Shovel
AlteredTundra
Horangi
sly13
Location | Dorms -> Cafeteria
As the screen of his clock flashed 8:00 AM from its perch by his bed, Bradley Barron blinked. He’d been staring at his laptop screen for well over eight hours, engrossed in the editing of his latest set of photographs. On the screen in front of him, the slender fingers of a faceless boy were wrapped around the harsh metal of a chain link fence. Behind him, his room was splayed out, a mess of dirty clothes and haphazardly strewn blankets. It was not a large room, but he’d certainly taken it up.
Bradley pushed his index finger down, and gently moved it across the trackpad, and slowly the picture began to take on a cold, blue tone. A low grumble slipped from his lips, followed by the clacking sound of his keyboard, and the photograph returned to its earlier form.
Bradley pushed back from the computer and spun around in his desk chair, closing his eyes for a moment as the world spun around him. Another night of no sleep. That was the second night in a row, but only the latest in a series of sleepless nights at San Agustin. He’d taken to finding sleep when he could throughout the day. Earlier in the year, he’d wondered if that might only be fucking up his sleep schedule more, but whatever worry he might’ve had about that had been pushed aside weeks ago.
Clad in boxers, and an old, faded t-shirt, Bradley stood up, stretching out as his muscles protested their sudden use. He stepped over clothes that had been turned inside out and discarded after he’d taken them off. He made a mental note to clean his room, one that would almost certainly be forgotten until someone came over and made him feel sufficiently bad about it.
His bathroom, to be fair, was much better than the room that lay outside. His toothbrush rested near the sink, in a small plastic cup that the school had provided, and his shower was mostly devoid of clutter. Teenage boys and their astonishing lack of personal hygiene. The sink was mostly clean, speckled with occasional dark hair that had not yet made its way down the drain. A mirror sat above the sink, reflecting a very unkempt Bradley Barron. He turned on the shower, and while he waited for the water to get warm, he looked over his reflection. His dark hair, normally hanging in straight curtains around his head, was tied back into the world’s smallest bun, a few loose hairs hanging down and framing his face.
Once steam started to seep out from above the shower curtain, Bradley untied his hair and undressed, then stepped under the steady stream of hot water. He sighed as the warmth washed over him, taking with it the soreness that accompanied his frequent bouts of sedentary life.
Thirty minutes later, the door to Room 300 opened up, and Bradley emerged, wearing faded, grey jeans, and a forest green hoodie. Black Chucks peeked out from under the cuff of his jeans, and a black backpack with the San Agustin logo printed across the front hung from his shoulders.
His room was the first on the floor, and so he only needed to take a few steps to the elevator, where he pressed the call button. While he waited, he glanced down the hall, but saw no one. He’d actually come to enjoy the people on his floor. Dwayne, Charlie, and Talya were all people he would’ve called friends. He’d met Zakya through Erica, and she was always friendly enough when he was around. Even Nicholas, the boy he knew the least was a fine person to share the floor with. The bus ride here had been one filled with anxiety but the last two months had almost proved him wrong. He just couldn’t shake the nagging sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. Like something wasn’t quite right.
The elevator let out a melodic chime, and its metal doors slid open. Bradley stepped inside, and waited patiently as the elevator gently glided down to the first floor. He began his trek towards the cafeteria with thoughts of spray paint. His attempt to order some online had been a long shot anyways, but he’d still been annoyed when he found that the order had been canceled and refunded. Orders placed for items that would generally be deemed “inappropriate” were often mysteriously canceled. He and Wes would have to get creative if they were ever going to tag a single building on campus.
Wes. His heart thumped slightly faster, and his eyes fell down to his shoes, slapping against the concrete, and a smile began to creep its way across his face and BAM! Bradley walked face first into one of the many trees that had been planted along the walkways around campus. He rubbed his forehead, wincing slightly as his fingers brushed up against tender skin. He shook his head, trying to decide whether he should be amused at his absentminded collision, or deeply confused about who had brought it on.
It wasn’t that Wes was a boy. Even if his classmates didn’t know, Bradley was well aware that he was gay. The issue was, really, that it was Wesley Slater that had him running into trees, and not literally anyone else. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and pushed it all into a little box that he tucked away somewhere deep within the recesses of his mind, to be opened another day. Or never.
Bradley made it to the cafeteria without any further incidents. He got in line behind a few other students, and when it was his turn to be served, he scanned his student ID, and the old woman behind the counter handed him a tray with a bowl of fruit salad, and roasted crickets on the side. The crickets made most of his friends squirm, but he’d come to find them pretty good. He took a seat at an empty table and began munching away. The cafeteria was quiet in the morning, with most kids still sleeping, or getting ready for the dreaded 8:00 AM class. He sat in the quiet, waiting to see which of his friends, if any, would meander in first. Just another day, at a totally normal school.
