Hello! This is a new novel I am starting, so please let me know what you think and let me know if you want me to continue. I am a girl, but the narrator of this story is a boy. Obviously, I'm not fully sure what it is like to be a teenage boy, but I think that my character is captured pretty well. It is mainly rated 16+ for language. There isn't much in this chapter, but the content gets worse as the story progresses. Also, note this takes place on a date that has yet to happen. I wanted it to be in 2010. Also, let me know if you want me to message you when I get a new part posted.
Nothing of these past sixteen years seems worth it because of the events of these past two months, twelve days. Why, you ask, do I know exactly what happened two months, twelve days ago? Well, that was the day I made the biggest mistake of my life. That day, October 18, 2010, is the reason why I am standing here, shivering in the pouring rain, on the edge of this bridge, the water rushing underneath. My t-shirt and jeans wait on the road, but they will never return to my body. My tennis shoes lay nearby; taking them off allowed me to fasten a rope tightly around my scrawny ankle. I took my last glance to the world and was ferociously blinded by the glare of approaching headlights...
October 11, 2010
Each day starts the exact same way: I roll out of bed when I hear the obnoxious beep of my alarm clock, my older brother Tyler begins complaining about how today is going to suck, and I take a good long look in front of the mirror. I am extremely conscious about the clothes I choose to wear, and my hair must be perfectly in place. It is horrible! Tyler can throw on the shittiest pair of jeans he owns and a muddy Led Zeppelin t-shirt and still look decent. But he has nothing to worry about. He's a high school senior, starting quarter back with a smoking hot girlfriend. And who am I? Some scrawny, timid sixteen-year-old who can't get a girlfriend, let alone a driver's license.
Yes, my sixteenth birthday was yesterday. My mom accompanied me to the DMV, and, God forbid, I leave without a driver's license. What are the odds? Tyler passed his driver's test on his sixteenth birthday. However, the unusual thing is, he did not tease me about my failure. He reassured me, "You'll get it next time, Bro!" What a nice guy.
Anyway, another boring, intolerable day of secondary education has begun. I trudge down the stairs to find my mother waiting on my less-than-polite siblings. Why she insists on serving them breakfast every morning is beyond me. How challenging is it to pour a damn bowl of cereal with milk? But, somehow, they are incapable. I would say mentally challenged, but that would be unfair, considering the fact my younger brother Lucas is autistic. He would be in the same school as Tyler and me, as a high school freshman, had he not been burdened with what Mom considers to be so many problems. The others around the table are the ten-year-old twins, River and Patrick, and five-year-old Joseph. I know what you're thinking. "Six boys! How the hell does your poor mother survive?" Well, to be honest with you, God only knows.
My mom insists I sit down and eat something, but that would involve me joining my brothers, so I politely refuse. "I have this project I need to get a head start on," I lie. I would never purposely start a project early. My mom, being herself, sweet even when she is overly stressed, placed her gentle hand across my forehead. I quickly pull away. "I'm not sick; I just really want to go." Without any further remarks, I leave the zoo I unfortunately call home.
The only thought racing through my mind as I slumped along the sidewalk was Oh, God, another day. That was when I heard a familiar voice call my name.
"Yo, Jamison!" It was my best friend Dylan. Let me tell you something about Dylan. He likes girls a little too much. 'The sluttier, the better' is his philosophy. When he is not at school drawing boobs on his Geometry notebook, he's at home looking at porn and talking on facebook to his girlfriend, Emily. 'Have they done it?' you ask. Well, let's see: the biggest slut and the biggest man whore; you do the math. I am staying out of that equation.
Dylan caught up with my pace, which was not hard since I was walking like my feet were submerged in cement. "Hey, man, did you do your Geometry homework? I found it confusing."
"That's because you were doodling pictures of Emily naked," I said in my smart ass tone of voice.
My underachieving friend seemed less that excited about my smart ass-ness, but he was used to it. "Hey! Dude! Cool it! You don't have to be jealous!"
See? These are the moments when I question why I am friends with this guy. He says to most nonsensical things. But what can I say? I love him- in a manly guy way, of course. "Jealous of what?"
"Don't play dumb. You're upset you don't have a girlfriend."
"Dylan, I'm really not."
"If you are, you can tell me."
"I have too much in my life right now to be thinking about girls."
"Hah! Don't talk so cute!"
My heart stopped right then. Why had Dylan called me cute? No! He hadn't! He called my talking cute. But why would he do that? Did he really believe what I said was cute? Anyway, why should I care so much? My pathetic thinking is causing my face to turn red. I can feel it physically heating up from my embarrassment. Get a grip, Jamison Michael Shephard.
Dylan seemed to have noticed my unusual behavior. "Jame, are you okay?"
I jumped back to reality, bursting through my inappropriate visualizing. "Oh yeah. Sorry. I'm fine."
"Were you just thinking of that potentially special someone?"
"What!? I wasn't thinking about anyone! I have absolutely no feelings for anyone!"
"Okay. Okay. Chill out."
Dylan's right. I need to 'chill out.' I have the slightest idea what my problem is. The person who I have been best friends with for twelve of my sixteen years is simply being himself, and I am acting like a total freak. I gave Dylan a smile, showing my fake enthusiasm, and he just rolled his eyes. My unusual outburst was forgotten as Dylan and I made the rest of our way to the place that was going to imprison us for the next seven hours.
Out of my seven classes, Dylan only happens to share one with me; and coincidentally, that is the same class I see Charlotte Benker. Sure, she is nice to look at. Oh, who am I kidding? She's freaking beautiful! There is not a guy at school who is not infatuated by her beauty. She doesn't walk; she glides, which surprises me because of the amount of drool left on the floor by the desperate boys she passes. That day, English class started like every other class; technically, I wouldn't know due to my lack of focus. However, my personal routine during English class started the same way. Dylan nodded towards Charlotte, making obscene movements with his tongue.
Slouching back in my chair, I weighed the possibility that Charlotte would notice me. "Absolutely none," I whispered to myself. There I go, a lonely boy with a pessimistic attitude. Just then, my temple was struck with a crumpled up ball of paper. I looked up and saw Dylan pretending to take notes as if nothing was happening. The untidy scrawl revealed my worst nightmare. No, wait! It made me want to masturbate! 'Charlotte keeps looking at you,' the note said. A fountain of drool nearly spurted out of my mouth but I held back, unbelievably petrified to look anywhere but down.
(Definitely more coming soon!!!)
Also, I hadn't even noticed that I didn't mention Jamison's father. I better put him in because he does play a larger role in the story later. Thanks for the advice!