Please give me advice. Tell me if you think it is boring in places. If it's all boring, then tell me. I need constructive criticism in order for it to work.

There is one thing I have been training myself how to do and that is confidence. To stand up and not care what they think. The masses.
“Hey Cole! Come over here,” shouted Michael Treger. Michael Treger was some I have known for a long time. Middle school actually had been the turning point of my life and luckily enough, he was right along side with me. Granted, he had been going through the same bullshit I was. Sometimes though, all you need is a shoulder to lean and cry on and he was exactly that. Over the years, I have gained much knowledge about this mysterious and diverse character. For instance, I have noticed over the years that he doesn’t care about the looks. The stares. The eyes glinting off his skin like death-ray’s from an enemy alien race. I am playing way too much Halo, I thought to myself. I laugh to myself as I look upon him with daring eyes. He is attractive. He has all the qualities of a person I would want myself to become but haven’t been able to master the skill of the human psyche and how indeterminable it really can be. He has spiky black hair with blonde highlights in a totally random direction, which changes on a day-to-day basis, mind you. Last week, it was brown with red highlights. I think it goes based upon his moods. There has got to be a book on this somewhere. His skin is a soft pale white but not pale enough where he looks like ghostly and unseen. He is relatively tall, maybe about six feet or so.
“Cole? You all right? You are staring off into space.”
“Oh.” I laugh. He thinks I was staring off into space. Good. “Yes, I am fine. How are you doing?”
“Meh, you know. Same shit, different day. Nothing really has changed.” He seems miffed about something. I was always the ‘school psychiatrist’ so people come to me with their issues and I attempt to solve them in what ways I can. I have a very good success rate.
“Except that hair of yours. It’s a constant. I swear it’s an every week thing,” I say staring at it. Almost too intently. Like I just want to take it off of his head and wear it myself. It’s not a hat. You can’t go take people’s hair. That’s rude.
“What can I say? I like colors.”
“That you do. But hey, is everything ok with you? You seem…” I squint my eyes searching for the right word. It was always the toughest coming up with the right word. You didn’t want to come off as mean and say you seem terrible because everyone loves to hear that.
“…Consumed by something,” I roll my eyes up, appearing to try and think about this. “Yeah, consumed seems like the right word to use.” I look at him with a grin and have my hands in some bizarre form like I am speaking in sign language, pointed towards him. He laughs a little. The bell rings for us to get to our first period class. The day is beginning.
“Yes, I am fine…actually I will tell you after school. Are you busy? Do you want to hang out after class?”
“Yeah, that sounds fun. You’re sure you’ll be all right?”
“Don’t worry about me. I will survive. I always have.”
“All right. See you at lunch?”
“Yes sir. See you then. Have fun.” He laughs.
“Later!”
I start to head towards first period. Ah, I love that kid. Where would I be without him?
First period went off without a hitch. Same old English class. The teacher does have one thing that did bother me. She had a nice shiny pimple start to pop up on her nose and it is progressing down the road of lollipop redness with just a little white at the tip. It’s ready to blow! The bell rang for second period to begin. I gathered up my things and headed out down the hall. As I was walking, my eyes were immediately directed towards something my brain was telling was some irresistible and human nature dictates, we always want what we can’t have. He had the most distinguished features. Rosy cheeks, a rather high jaw line, a cleft in his chin, and he walked without any cares, it seems. I wonder if he is gay? As I start to walk slower to get a better view, I nearly get knocked down by someone who I really didn’t want to see right now.
“Watch where you’re going, fag,” said the school’s leader, Mark. I don’t remember his last name. Not worth remembering. It might have something to do with masculine or dumbass, one of the two. When it came to terms like ‘take me to your leader’, he would be the person they would take the prisoners to as he told them they were about to receive bamboo splinters up their fingernails for talking to his woman. Yup, we go to school at a forced labor camp outside China where you get beaten for talking and if you are not of political correctness, you get the torture treatment. That consists reading Old English Beowulf and doing math equations with square roots and decimals.
“You bumped into me, dumbass. Or is it Dumas,” I stated just to push his buttons.
“You better watch your back, faggot. I’ll be back.”
Imitating an Arnold Schwarzenegger accent, “I’ll be right here waiting. I’ll be back. Don’t take too long. Get down.” I started laughing and I walked away, heading for class, which I was already late for. I looked around for my previous interest but he must have already headed to class. I wonder who he is?
The rest of the beginning periods went by quick enough, I suppose. As the bell rang for lunch, everyone got up immediately like wildfire and headed to the lunchroom in the middle of the school. This was the best period of the day and everyone knew. You get to sit down, eat something, and gossip away. It’s always about the hottest guy or girl, or who slept with whom, or who looks ugly these days, or “Why did she sit here?” or my personal favorite, of course, who is gay. Ah, the plot thickens. Apparently, the school is teaming with new gay meat that everyone must know about. Of course, the gossip immediately centered on the new boy in school. The one I saw in the hallway. The girls at the next table over had already found out his name, birthday, age, height, and how many tattoos and piercing’s he has. I was just waiting for them to say his social security number and where he lives but that didn’t happen. I was interested in one thing though. His name. Tyler Rebbel. I liked the sound of him already.


Thank you.