Starting a new journal, I mean. I havn't so much as thought about one since the summer before last while I was in Spain. I'm not much of a writer, that's for damn sure-- I'm not too great at hiding things, either, becuase the last journal I had was found by my goddamn mother. She read it, so I ripped out all the pages in my anger. So much has happened since that day that I can't remember what I would have written about that was really even worth hiding. In a way, I regret my short temper... it would have been nice to step into my mind again and see how it worked before it was corrupted by a certain someone named Cameron Mclassin.
Cameron is the very goddamn reason I was upset enough to tear my room apart looking for this thing (perhaps throughout the past year I figured out a few new, great hiding places-- so great, in fact, that I even tricked myself). I just got home from a fifteen minute walk in the dark from Mclassin's house to mine; I'm not exactly complaining... it's not all that fair to him if I complain.
The whole ordeal was a long story; I'll start off with school.
I was just getting out of English, which is not only my least favorite class, but my last class. Toward the end of it, my teacher asked, "Who did their homework? Pass it up!" After seeing that no one was reacting, I told her, "Nobody did it, Mrs. Walsh." What a poor choice of words, I must say. When the final bell rang she pulled me aside and gave me a goddamn lecture over it. "Never say 'nobody' in my classroom ever again, young man! 'Nobody' is too strong of a word and--" that's all I caught-- I stopped listening. I was worried about missing my bus.
When I finally got away from her, I looked down at my watch; the buses would be leaving soon, so I decided not to bother rushing out of school. My bus driver hates me, incidentally-- she told me that if she needs to wait for me to run after the bus one more time, she'll start making me pay for rides. I don't know if that's legal, but I didn't want to risk having to do it. I'm broke as it is.
Cameron caught my eye, so I asked him for a ride. I'm not sure, but somehow I think that was a bigger mistake than saying "Nobody did their homework" during English class.
Oh, he drove me home. I made him listen to the CD I made him for his birthday during the ride, and he seemed pretty pissed at me. I invited him inside when we got to my house. He kept asking me questions about why we broke up, and those questions produced awkward answers which gave him the twisted impression that he needed to kiss me.. which he did. Then he took off; literally. It happened so fast I didn't even see him leave.
After walking half a mile in search of a bike pump, filling my bike's flat tire with air, riding a few blocks, then turning around when I remembered someone had invented something called the 'telephone', I gave Cameron a call. We went to the mall. I drank a lot of coffee. He wanted to smoke, so he took me down to that place we always went while we were dating. He got high; I watched from a few feet away, knowing better than to stop him (or join him). He told me he loved me, and then he had some kind of breakdown in which I saw him cry for the first time since God knows when.
I can't believe I got in the fucking car with the kid, seeing the state he was in; I don't know how to drive, but I think I would have been better off doing it. Half the time he was in the wrong goddamn lane; I'm half surprised I'm still alive. I made him go to his house instead of dropping me off at mine so I could make sure he got there okay. That's why I walked home; I was afraid of leaving him alone.
Since Cameron is bringing me to school tomorrow, I'm not sure what to expect.
p.s. Vivian may have recently kicked me out of his shitty band, but I formed an even better shitty band in spite of him.
Current Mood: tired