well here is the first part to my actual nano, please enjoy, i hope to hit 50,000 words before the end of the month and such.
"What the hell do you mean you lost your coat?" The gruff voice asked Kyle again, the boy already halfway outside, the cool morning leaking into the home. His mind wanted him to stay and avoid a future beating for leaving, but his feet itched to run away.
"I lost it yesterday and I found this one," Kyle stated simply, hoping he was drunk enough to just not care past his instant anger reaction.
"You mean you traded it." The voice was louder now that he was standing and looking at Kyle. His stepfather was in all cases a total pig. His greasy dirty blond hair hung in tendrils down the sides of his head, his blue eyes seemed unfocused from the alcohol in his system. He was about as tall as Kyle, maybe an inch shorter. He was much larger in personality though, not that it was quality. His goatee was braided; his leather jacket was open in the front revealing long blonde chest hairs and an over-sized gold chain atop a well-worn wife beater. He wore tall boots in the house that he tucked beneath his ancient and tattered dress pants. His fingers were covered in rings, his left ear as well. His fat neck stated in black ink 'bite here' and Kyle knew from experience his right arm had some Latin phrase on it, most likely another retarded shot at being funny.
"You traded the Jacket I paid for with my hard earned money for something better?" He went on, "You think you're better than me huh?" The arm of Kyle's mother stopped him from standing, but she didn't say anything, "God damn it Vikki why did you have to birth an ungrateful little snot?" He took one more look at Kyle with a smile and went on to lick his mother's cheek slow and steady for Kyle to see.
Kyle had had enough and left, walking fast down the street towards school. That was the last thing he needed right now. He openly cursed his ear-buds for finding impossible ways to tangle in one's pocket and went to work getting them wearable again. That bastard, that stupid, rotten, selfish, childish, bastard! He stuffed the buds in his ears and went quickly to drown the anger out with music, flicking shuffle on the screen of his IPod. Soon Kyle started to lose himself in the mindless drone that is 75% of The Gorillaz music.
He walked down the street to his bus stop, the mindless songs rolling around in his head, but that's what he loved about the Gorillaz, their music was so mellow, you could feel enraged and be calmed, happy and stay happy, sad and feel comforted. The bass hummed to 'Clint Eastwood' as the vocals began when he got to his bus stop, two other kids there. One was Jimmy Hor, a freshman with a very unfortunate last name. Jimmy was usually quiet, his small frame hadn't quite hit the growth factor of puberty and neither did his voice, not that you heard much out of Jimmy.
The other one was Alice Stone. Alice was one of the 'popular' kids, the kind so in the loop she could have changed her last name to Hor and not gotten shit for it. She was nice, athletic, smart, volunteered, was down to earth AND had a kicking body. More than once Kyle caught himself staring; honestly the only flaw about her was her parents, rumor had it she was somehow popular AND sheltered, she left parties at ten, she never drank, and she was not permitted to drive with more than two boys in a friend's car. That aside, it really wasn't a personal flaw, just overbearing parents. Usually she got a ride to school from her boyfriend Tuck, but they were fighting at the moment and he refused to pick her up again.
The three waited in silence, Kyle behind his hood and in the music, for the first time he really got a whiff of the Jacket now that the hood was up. It didn't smell like sweat, it was musky but earthy, almost comforting. He decided to wash it anyway because it would be weird if he didn't, but he wasn't about to tell anyone he got it from some guy either. The three eventually got on the bus, it was empty, and theirs was the first stop so Kyle snagged the front seat as to stay away from the annoying kids who thought the back seat was still cool.
He really hated the majority of school, the idea of it even pissed him off because when it came down to it, schools were instated for all those who wanted to go to go too and learn skills necessary for a job. Who the fuck needs to learn how to solve quadratic equations while simultaneously knowing about the American revolutions many leaders AND the proper way to balance a chemical equation involving the noble gases?! But...he digressed, resting a now hooded head on the window, the humming of the bus matching the bass of yet another mindless drone.
The scenery of the town passed by, the fall bringing changing leaves and cold air, Kyle's breathing then brought a foggy window so he just closed his eyes. He was tired anyway, he couldn't sleep too well the last night, and he kept imagining the strange boy would appear at his window with that knife. Oh that knife, the very thought of how close it was to his skin, and how vulnerable he had been sent a shiver up his spine. "And he wants me to go back," Kyle whispered aloud to no one, "What a bunch of bullshit."
Soon, stop after stop, the bus filled up with the same kids he had known forever, they had grown up together, they all knew each other, hell some of them knew each other's parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents.
Even Kyle had his little group, unfortunately the misfits through the years of awkward growing up always become either cool for the odd reasons, or the stoners, and his friends chose the latter. He himself had only ever tried it twice, and true to his word he never went back, he felt the high but it didn't seem to be worth it with the hacking he was doing just from the smoke. Needless to say that when you stay up through the night gagging on the aftertaste of burned and smoked weed you don't exactly feel the instant urge to try it again.
Not only was Kyle in the group of the misfit stoners, but he didn't belong there or anywhere else. People from his classes he was nice enough to had occasionally invited him to events, everything from football to an actual party, but he never maintained a connection, he was incredibly distant... Sure he would have a blast at whatever it was if he even bothered to go, but sooner or later he would stop receiving invites from that person, and wouldn't actively try to get re-invited.
Well, except Quinn, she had always been there for him, they were in the same classes all through elementary school, lived on the same street and in general just connected somehow. It was strange because people say opposites attract, but Quinn and Kyle were so much alike, overly sarcastic, into the same Quentin Tarantino types of movies, over the top when it came to things they liked, and bored shitless when it came to most everything else. But Quinn was Quinn and somehow had stayed in touch while still having a life of her own with others, establishing her place higher up on the actual social ladder. Kyle smiled, it was ironic because where he didn't care about social status, the very idea offended her, and that's what made hers higher than his, she was so nice and fair and fun.
But soon the bus was full and pulling into the bus loop of his school. Reluctantly he got up from his seat, eyes still heavy, ear-buds falling into his pocket again. Being fair there were still some quality people at his school and some good times to remember, but like anybody, Monday mornings weren't Kyle's happiest or positive moments.
He passed through the halls like smoke, waving past obstacles and being stopped by no one. He dropped off his books at his locker, taking only the essentials for the next few periods and moving on to the lunchroom. For some reason he was only now starting to feel the minute effects of what was sure to be a pounding headache. "Fan freaking-tastic," he noted to himself, buying a packet of pop-tarts and some chocolate milk.
The cafeteria was noisy as always, not many people waited for classes to start in their homerooms so they either waited by lockers, in the library or in the cafeteria, and seeing as the latter offered food, it was by far the most popular choice.
Kyle took a seat at one of the far tables and started to eat his improve, sugar bomb of a breakfast. Absently he watched the other kids, still unable to get the last nights events out of his head. There was something so of about that kid, and Kyle was positive they had never met. That was the troubling thing; a new Kid in town would have been big news.
He could have been a run away, Kyle's mind crafted fantastical reasons as to why the kid had left his family. The classic 'parents don't understand me!' to an overly romanticized 'Romeo and Juliet' like affair.
Then again maybe his parents had just died. Again his inner self crafted scenario after scenario, each more ridiculous than the last, and each one worth a cheap Hollywood movie. House caught fire, psycho on the street, the mothers ex with an axe perhaps. Spies with terrible names and wordplay. The thought came out of nowhere but maybe the nameless kid had done it. Knife to the throat in their sleep, that silver knife stained red...
Kyle immediately expelled the thought and finished off his breakfast. He couldn't think like that or he'd be glancing over his shoulder at every turn. He tossed the wrapper and milk jug and walked to his homeroom. It was homecoming week so the school was done up to look at its most prideful. The Sweeton High Honey Badgers mascot Berry Badger was everywhere. The yellow and black color scheme made it look more like they should be bee's or hornets or something, but regardless streamers and posters were hung all around, signs detailing the weeks various clothing themes, todays was simply yellow and black day.
Kyle looked down at his blue jeans, green shirt, and brown jacket, "God damn it," he breathed out, formulating some half assed attempt at spirit. Kyle might not care as much as most, but he at least tried to have a good time, and regardless of if he cared or not Quinn would rip him a new one is she found him as he was.
He walked to the nearest string of streamers and ripped some from the wall, tying them around his arms and making a headband even the strictest teachers would let him get away with for the sake of the week. It may not have been convincing with all the painted faces and dyed hair but it would have to do unless Quinn had dyes or paint, if that was the case he wasn't leaving this school without either, she wouldn't let him.
After a quick stop to his locker he entered homeroom and waited by the window for Quinn and Alice to enter. Quinn for the anticipation of her outburst, and Alice for...Alice. There were only a handful of kids already there, most with either coffee or some kind of banner, not that the two were related.
A hand smacked Kyle in the head while he was looking around, making him go "Oww!" in shock and turn to see Quinn. "What the hell kind of lame excuse for school spirit is that!?" she asked, seemingly completely offended at the streamers tied around his arms and head, finger pointing to them menacingly. "Seriously Kyle you're so stupid sometimes, let's go I have some face paint in my locker." She dragged him out of his seat but they were stopped at the door by their teacher who asked them to remain in homeroom and sit quietly.
"Seems I've escaped..."
"You have escaped nothing you cheater," she responded quickly, sticking her tongue out at him, "You're lucky I love you or you would be in deep shit."
"I thought you only cared because you loved me," Kyle added, getting a stick eye.
Quinn was a shorter girl with nice full look that was attractive to a lot of guys. She had full curves without being fat, dark black hair and at the moment very blue eyes, but beneath the contacts her brown eyes sat unviewed. Her clothes were currently all school related, her jeans fitting snug and her generically branded shoes rested comfortably on her feet covered heel to toe in sharpie.
Kyle smiled a bit; it was just Quinn to find some way to turn a generic brand or something plain into something Quinn worthy. But classes began and Kyle had to begin the mindless roar of school.
"Oww! Damn it Quinn!" Kyle swore, pulling away from her and holding a hand over his left eye, which was closed due to having been poked, "Shit this stuff stings!" He went on, beginning to rub.
"It's paint, it's not exactly natural," Quinn stated, moving his arm away from his eye, "And if you would hold still I would not have poked you, you doof."
"If you didn't chase me down with paints I wouldn't have had to pull away," he mumbled, trying to keep a straight face and hold still as her yellow paint covered finger ran under his eye, "Why do you have to paint my entire face anyway? I'm not that crazy about the school you know."
"Well I'm not gunna be the one to paint my entire face, this stuff is a pain to get off; I'd be scrubbing forever!" She exclaimed playfully, Kyle not finding it the lease bit amusing.
"Your joking right?" he asked straight faced, grabbing her arm when she didn't respond and pulling her close, "Quinn's kidding about this stuff not coming off easy right?" he asked again, the girl just started laughing. In a little panic he got the tube of paint and started reading frantically.
"Its water based, chill out Kyle geez," she teased, "You are so uppity you know that?"
"You are not funny when you try to be you know that?" He tossed back with half effort, Spirit days weren't even his thing and he was dragged into them by her, hell, Quinn was not exactly full of Badger pride either, but it gave her an excuse to dress up and be over the top he guessed.
With the paint in place they departed the chairs in the foyer and headed back to the cafeteria for their lunch. The actual spirit assembly wasn't until Friday just before the big rivalry game home against the Westville Woodchucks. It was an odd rivalry, neither side really hated the other, but when you are two of the six schools in your division and are located in close proximity you make yourselves rivals for the thrill.
"I feel ridiculous," Kyle moaned, "Do you even have a mirror? I want to see what you have done to me."
"It's not that bad!" she screamed, "Geez a bit of trust, why are you so whiny today?" she asked, poking his side, "Your stepdad being an ass or something?" she continued with a bit more seriousness, but not enough for the answer to kill the positive mood.
"Yeah but it's nothing I can't deal with," Kyle stated. "There was this weird kid at the park last night that gave me the creeps though." She waited patiently for the story, "Well I was walking to the swings cause Scott was getting drunk," he said, which was true, but telling her about the beatings would spark another 'do something about it' conversation he didn't want to have, "And there was this kid there. He was big and tall and fucking weird if I would..."
Quinn elbowed him in the ribs, "Language." He cast her a sideways glance and she laughed at the hypocrisy of her saying it, "Sorry, carry on."
"As I was saying, he was really strange but I sorta yelled at him, don't ask me why and he chased me out of there with a freaking knife."
Quinn stopped and stared at him, "You classify that as creepy?! That's terrifying! Are you okay?" Kyle flexed his arms experimentally and she hit him in the chest, "Seriously."
Kyle laughed a little, "I'm fine, really, but tell me why you hit the people who you ask if they got stabbed?"
"Cause they got on my nerves," she responded, "Really you should tell someone, you didn't see his face?"
"I'm actually still not done, he caught me and had the knife to my face and then took my cheap ass jacket and gave me his quality one." Looking back on it; it was more than bazaar, but he decided not tell her that the stranger wanted him back tonight, and that he wanted to 'play,' it would only make her worry more.
Quinn giggled to herself, "Who would want that piece of shit?" she allowed herself to joke, getting a nudge with half effort.
"Fuck you," she punched his arm, "Don't hit girls!"
Quinn took the information of his almost stabbing really well, and only brought it up a few times that day with a handful of plans involving cops, park watches and the counselor, but as usual he turned down he offers. She was a great friend, his one quality one that never let him, even if she did have completely other branches of connections and friends Kyle couldn't begin to imagine, she was popular after all and somehow still liked him.
And the day carried on in the monotony of schoolwork and notes. He went class to class handing in work, giving answers he knew and ducking his head when he had no idea what the question even asked. He passed room after room of kids doing the same, but the halls did have more energy, more black and yellow, more strange photo shopped badger images, one simply saying, 'The honey badger, it's pretty badass," and saying nothing else.
It was unfortunately a depressing day outside, so in each class he didn't even have quality clouds to stare into, only a large grey mass of depressing soon to be rain. Only those clouds and the stranger boy with his knife. Kyle couldn't get the image out of his head, and for the first time since the experience he actually wondered about what was going to happen that night. If he went bad things would happen, that was a definite, but if he didn't go would things be worse? Did the boy know where Kyle lived?
For the briefest moments during pre-calculus he panicked, not at the material, the teacher was incapable of doing anything but read form the book, but from the idea of the knife at his house.
Later in psychology they were told to do whatever they wanted because the teacher was sick that week and had not come into school, Kyle did some reading in the textbook. Although on the surface there was nothing that could help him (the parts of the brain that react to your fear didn't seem important) There was a simple graph in the back of the aging textbook. It showed a list of phobias.
Fear of heights, fear of falling, fear of death, he read them in no particular order trying to find something funny, or achieve some kind of understanding on his sudden fearfulness of this boy. Fear of public speaking, fear of the dark, fear of the ocean, fear of pain.
He stopped, it wasn't that the fear of pain spoke to him or that he even had such a phobia, but just then he realized the object of his fear was the knife. Obviously Kyle didn't want to die.
Kids all around him cheered and made noise while Kyle sat contemplating how to deal with a crazy knife wielding stranger who may or may not know where he lived. No wonder he didn't have too many friends, he was crazy.