Ella and Troy

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Two outcasts find friendship.
(rated PG for mild language)

Submitted: January 06, 2008

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Submitted: January 06, 2008

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The moment we had arrived in our new town I had locked myself in my room and not come out for a week and a half. The only time I set foot outside that door was to use the bathroom, and only because I wasn’t not going to go as far as having my room smell of urine, or to have my body smell the same. I occasionally accepted meals, but that was rarely. I only ate about two days out of the week, the other five I didn’t care if I was starving.
If it had been up to me, I would have spent the rest of my life in that room. Unfortunately, that week and a half that I spent in my room was the last week and a half of school holidays. And, whether I wanted to or not, I was going to have to leave my room for more than ten minutes at a time to go to school from eight-thirty in the morning to three in the afternoon.
 
My first day of school actually went quite well, in that nobody payed the least bit of attention to me. It was a perk of starting a new school, nobody wanted to know you. And I didn’t want to know them either, quite frankly.
The only acknowledgement I got all day is when the teachers called my name from the roll, and even then it was nothing special. They said it in the same mono-tone voice they used with everyone’s name, they weren’t singling anyone out, especially not me.
I sat in each class in the further corner I could, away from everyone else, ensuring there was at least one spare desk between me and another person, like everyone else in the room had some terrible, contagious disease. Which I’m sure they did, they were all so insanely happy, like they were demented or something. What was wrong with them?
At lunch, I sat in one of the cubicles in the toilet block for the entire forty-five minutes. It wasn’t like I was eating anything, I just sat there, reading the graffiti that some pathetic people had scrawled on there because they were obviously too scared to say it to the persons face.
“Nicky is the worlds bigest, fattest slut”
Well done you. Did you think up that insult all by yourself? You spelt “biggest” wrong by the way.
“Alexis Conner luvs Kane Ross 4 eva”
Nice spelling.
“I love Ryan, he’s my baby”
He’s probably already cheated on you honey.
 
And that’s how it was for the next six months of school, nothing much changed, except that I got a bit more recognition. People stared at me when I walked past. Weirdo Ella. While all the other girls wore what the tabloids were telling them to wear, I wore jeans, a t-shirt and sometimes a jacket when it got cold and my converse’s. I looked scruffy but I didn’t care. My brown hair was constantly in a pony-tail, and I didn’t care if it was dirty, or frizzy or whatever. The girls in my year, who’s hair was drenched in hair-spray and natural faces were under three layers of foundation, eye shadow and lip gloss, all shrieked at my frizzy hair, and makeup-free skin.
Some of the guys had taken to calling me “Emily the Strange” after the little cartoon girl, who’s shirts I sometimes wore. They thought they were geniuses when they came up with that name, and thought it was a hoot, because both our names started with the letter ‘E.’ I was in a school full of retards. The teachers were even worse, at least my fellow peers managed to remember my name, I was constantly getting ‘Ellen’ from my airy-fairy art teacher, or ‘Elise’ from my English teacher. I turned in my assignments and did my work, achieving average marks, nothing that was top rank that would cause people to rave about me. But nothing insanely low that would caused even more attention to me by having the teacher take me aside, or having my parents come in for an interview. For six months I managed to pass under the radar, virtually unnoticed, which was exactly what I wanted.
 
My quiet life at school was suddenly interrupted after the mid-year holidays. Our first day back there was a new student. Everyone clambered around and tried to sneak a look at them, but I didn’t really care. I was just relieved that the focus of taunting and teasing was off me, for a day at least.
I met the new kid in our first-period Maths class, when he dropped his pen under my desk.
The teacher didn’t even bother to introduce the kid to the class, he just directed him towards an empty seat. Which just so happened to be, to my annoyance, next to me. He slid in the wooden seat and started to unpack his things from his bag. As he unzipped his pencil case a pen fell out and rolled away, coming to a halt just next to my left foot. He turned around in his seat and bent down to retrieve it, when he noticed my foot next to the pen he looked up at me with a blank expression on his face.
‘Sorry’ her muttered, so quietly I could barely hear him.
I gave a little nod with a bored expression on my face, ‘Right’ was all I said.
He picked up his pen and sat back up, but didn’t turn around, he continued staring at me. It was a little creepy, so I stared straight back.
Eventually he turned back to face the blackboard, and began to furiously scribble down the notes written there.
I rolled my eyes.
 
That day as school there was a flood in the girls bathroom, and it was more than water that came up the pipes, so I was forced to sit somewhere in the schoolyard. I took refuge under a tree near the canteen, I just sat there, reading my book.
‘Excuse me’
Oh shit.
I looked up from my page to see the new kid standing in front of me, holding a sandwich and a bottle of juice.
There he stood. He wore scruffy converse’s, black jeans and a dark red t-shirt. His dark hair hung at just under shoulder length, but it seemed to suit him.
‘Do you mind?’ he asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside me.
I tried my hardest to look annoyed, it wasn’t hard, ‘Why don’t you want to sit with anyone else?’ I asked ‘I’m sure the people from the…drama club…are really nice.’
The boy raised an eyebrow ‘Yeah’ he said sarcastically ‘they really made me feel welcome when they threw a sandwich at me’
I sighed and shifted my legs a little so he could sit down.
‘What are you doing Ella?’ I thought furiously to myself ‘Just tell him to fuck off! It’s not that hard!’ I didn’t know why I had agreed to him sitting down, a felt a little sorry for him I guess. Which was a new thing for me.
‘I’m Troy Afton by the way’ he said, while twisting the lid off his juice bottle.
‘Ella Main’ I responded, sounding pissed off as I continued to read my book.
We sat there in complete silence, him eating in lunch and looking at everyone sitting near us, and me pretending that he wasn’t there and reading my book. Neither of us attempted conversation, he didn’t seem to talk much.
Finally, after what must have been the most torturous forty-five minutes for both of us, the bell rang. I put my book back I my bag and swung it onto my shoulder as I stood up.
‘Well, I don’t know about you, but this was the most riveting lunch time I’ve had in a long while’ I said, with voice dripping in sarcasm, ‘We simply must do it again sometime.’ Then, without looking at him, or waiting for his reaction I stalked off.
I thanked the heavens that he wasn’t in my next class, no self-respecting boy would dare even think about enrolling in Home Economics…Not at this school anyway…’
 
As I walked home I thought about that new kid who had sat with me at lunch. As much as he annoyed me, I was a little curious about him. I heard footsteps behind me and turned around.
And there he was again – standing there in his scruffy clothes and his school bag hanging off one shoulder. I raised an eyebrow.
‘You live around here?’
He nodded ‘Renting’ he said, pointing to a block of flats a few metres down the road ‘You?’
He seemed to feel the need to speak, while using the smallest amount of words possible.
‘Bit further down the street’ I replied, motioning with my head.
He nodded, ‘Mind if I walk with you?’
I shrugged ‘If you really want to’
He looked amused for a second ‘I do’ was all he said.
We didn’t speak the entire time.
 
Over the next few days I struck up a bit of a friendship with Troy, but I don’t think either of us would admit it out loud that we were friends.
It was an odd friendship, filled with long silences, while we sat together at lunch or walked home from school. When we did speak it was usually brief and about nothing in particular. We never delved too deeply into each others personal lives, we kept it at a safe distance. Neither one of us wanted to talk about theirs, or know about the others.
After a week I knew a decent enough amount of information about Troy. He was 16, like me, and lived with his dad. Whether his mum was dead, or had divorced his dad I didn’t know. Like I said, we didn’t got too deeply into personal stuff. He had an older brother who lived in another state and owned a restaurant. Troy wanted to finish school and then go to work for him. He had moved here because of his dads work.
He knew an equal amount of information about me, and that’s how we chose to keep it, although we would sometimes tell each other another snippet of information. We were the two outcasts in school, but we didn’t care. We didn’t feel like outcasts.
 
That afternoon we walked home together, like always.
We were just coming up to the block of flats where Troy lived, we had been talking a little bit during the walk home and I was complaining that my mum was never home after school so I was stuck as home bored every afternoon. We stopped outside the flats and I started to say good-bye when he got in first.
‘What to come in?’ he asked, waving one arm absently towards the building.
My farewell got caught in my throat, and I felt my stomach drop ‘Um…sure’ I said a little awkwardly.
Troy looked a little embarrassed ‘Only if you want to’ he said softly, and I could see a slight colour rising in his cheeks, ‘You don’t have to…’
I felt bad, ‘I do’ I said, copying his exact words from that day when he had first asked to walk home with me.
Troy smiled, looking a little relieved. He had a beautiful smile, two dimples always appeared on either side of his mouth and his cheeks always turned a little pink when he did. He didn’t smile very often, and the only times I had seen him smile were the time when he was talking to me.
We walked inside the building together and he stopped at flat number three and unlocked the door.
‘Welcome to my humble abode’ he said, grinning as he swung open the door.
The flat was small, but clean and cosy. I huge TV sat against one wall with a comfortable looking couch in front of it. There was a small dining table next to that with a few chairs scattered around it. The next room was the kitchen, which wasn’t very interesting, but I paused at the fridge to looked at a photo which was stuck to it with s magnet. The boy on the right of the photo was obviously Troy, he had his arm around the shoulders of an older boy. The other boy had a similar look to Troy – the same eyes, same hair colour and same shape face. However, his nose was slightly wider and shorter and he had a tanned complexion compared to Troy’s pale skin. His hair was also cut shorter and was pushed out of his face.
‘Is that your brother?’ I asked.
Troy nodded ‘Yeah, that was last Christmas when we went and saw him. He had just started his restaurant. Dad never approved of Daniel’s restaurant, he said it was a fantasy and would lead Daniel to bankruptcy.’
‘Did it?’
Troy shook his head ‘Anything but’ he said.
 
I followed Troy down a short hallway to his room. I had expected Troy’s room to be covered in band posters and a smell gross, like a typical guy’s room did.
Troy’s room had a small smattering of band posters over the walls, but most of the wall space was taken up by drawings. They were beautiful drawings, each of something different, whether it be a horse or a scene from our schoolyard. I looked on in amazement at the hundreds of drawings which covered his walls.
‘Did you draw these?’ I asked.
Troy smiled ‘Yeah, I have a lot of spare time on my hands’
That smile, it was so gorgeous, it lit up his face…
‘I wanted to become a professional artist’ he continued ‘But my dad wouldn’t hear of it, he didn’t think that was going to get me anywhere. There was no money in drawing things, he thought. After my brothers restaurant did really well he pushed me into going to work there after I had finished school…’
‘But your drawings are amazing’ I said truthfully ‘I wish I had as much talent as you’
Troy laughed ‘Talent can only get you so far Ella…Or at least that’s what my dad thinks…’
‘But drawing is what you love isn’t it?’
He looked at me ‘Yes’ he said after a minute or two.
‘Then you should do it…doing something that you love, even if it means breaking the rules would mean a lot more than doing something that is approved of…But makes you unhappy…’
Troy shrugged ‘I guess…’
There was an odd silence for a moment, then Troy swung his legs up, onto the bed and stretched out on the mattress, with his back against the wall.
‘Ella…do you consider me a friend?’
Crap…This was the question that I thought would never be asked, and I didn’t want to get it wrong…’I decided to answer it truthfully.
‘Troy…You’re my only friend…And I’m not just saying that. You’re the only person who doesn’t think I’m a complete freak.’ I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth. Then I quickly added;
‘Do you consider me a friend?’
Troy looked at me for a moment, his brown eyes drilling into my blue ones.
‘Yes’ he finally said, than after a few seconds he said ‘and possibly something more…’
I could feel my heart pick up it’s pace as he started to lean in towards me, I felt the brush of his lips against mine and I started kissing him back.
 
We might have been outcasts…But we were outcasts who were in love.


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