R.H.Rの小説

I arrived at the gym. I put a red hoodie on and scan my membership quietly. I head to the locker room to change. I hate changing in public spaces. The fear of being made fun of, or seeing a naked old man was always disturbing for me.I put on black pants and changed my shirt to a simple black shirt and put my red hoodie over it. I sneak out quietly out of the locker room and put my headphones on to listen to music. I always play a bit of everything, depending on the mood I was in. Today I put on rock from the eighties to get myself excited to lift, something I haven’t felt in a long time.It was chest and bicep days which was my favorite day. Quick and simple, yet so satisfying to do. I started with the dumbbell bench press. As I finished my set I saw Jason with Sean. I do my best to hide away from them so I just look down hoping they don’t see me.I do another set. After I finished I looked up to see if they were still there. They were but this time Marcelo was laughing and talkin

The rest of the day was rather forgettable. All my classes were very straightforward and nothing bad really happened. By the time the 8th hour came around, I was ready to leave, but I still had Digital Media class left, my favorite one.I had to drive to another school to take the class, but I didn’t care because no one from my school took that class since they thought it was “weird.” When I got there I instantly felt better. I walked into the cozy room full of computers and took my seat at my gaming chair. I started working on my writing project in which I wrote about a person named Mark who wanted to belong in his new job but he couldn’t be himself in order to fit in. I was on page ninety-three and was really close to reaching the climax which was about Mark who finally snaps and realizes that he needs to stop acting this way, or he would be miserable.As I write, I feel someone walk in the room. I ignored it at first and kept writing. I then felt a touch on the shoulder and I tur

When did he get here?The last time I checked, there wasn’t a handsome Hispanic boy sitting next to me. I scanned the room, waiting for someone—anyone—to react, but nobody cared. Nobody even noticed.Had he been here the whole time? Wasn’t someone else sitting next to me a few minutes ago?Mrs. Payne kept teaching, but my brain had checked out. My eyes kept drifting back to Marcelo.Who is he?Why don’t I know him?Before I could come up with an answer, Mrs. Payne wrapped up her five-minute lesson and sent us to the whiteboards.I went to the one in the far-left corner—the spot nobody ever chose. As I worked through the problems, I noticed something strange.Everyone else was gathered around Marcelo.High-fives. Laughing. Girls flirting, asking if he had a girlfriend. Guys asking if he was playing baseball this year.Sure, he was handsome. But was he smart?Doubt it.I focused on my math. Two problems in the room erupted again.Marcelo was finished.All of them.There was no way he go

As soon as I opened the door, I became someone else.I walked through the narrow hallways smiling, giving people high-fives like I actually wanted to be there. My posture changed. My face loosened. The act slipped on naturally, like muscle memory.The school itself was strange. Despite having millionaires attending, the building looked poor. There were only ten classrooms, each barely able to fit twenty students. The largest—and nicest—room was the principal’s office, which pretty much told you everything you needed to know.The hallways were cramped, barely wide enough to walk through without bumping into someone. The floors were filthy, like they hadn’t been cleaned in years. Food crumbs, loose papers, and even clothes were scattered around for reasons I never understood. Some parts of the school smelled unbearable, especially the art room, which reeked of rotten eggs.They tried to fix it once. During my sophomore year, someone set off stink bombs as a senior prank, and the smell n

I arrived at the school parking lot at seven thirty, twenty minutes before my first class. The drive to school was usually the best part of my day. It was just me, alone with my thoughts. Most mornings I blasted music to hype myself up, but today I drove in silence. Nothing is more peaceful than silence. I thought about my childhood and how happy I used to be. Not a single bad moment stood out. Every day felt full of color, full of a kind of joy that’s impossible to explain once it’s gone. I really had everything growing up—friends, family, a nice house, a dog—but most importantly, happiness. Somewhere along the way, I lost it. Where did everything start to go downhill? Am I blinded by nostalgia? Am I ungrateful? Why do I feel like this? I wished I knew the answer to any of it. All I knew was that the bright, full colors were gone, replaced by grey. As I sat in the parking lot, I fought to stay awake. Waking up early every day was finally catching up to me. To keep myself alert, I

“Marvel or DC?” I look to my left. A kid around my age, chubby, glasses, short hair.“What?” I responded.He points at my Spider-man comic.“I think DC has better characters and tells better stories.” He says.I stay quiet and just stare at him.“You don’t talk much do you?” I take a moment to say something.“I’m more of a Marvel fan. Mostly because of Spider-man. He’s cool.” I say.“He is cool. Okay next question. Who would win in a race, Flash or Quicksilver?”“Flash.” I say.He makes a buzzing sound, similar to the ones you hear when a person gets an answer wrong in a reality show.“Trick question. It would be a tie.” He says.“Depends on which version of the character it is.” I say.“I don’t think that matters at all. It's the same speed, just different people.”The bell rings meaning I only had five minutes to get to class. It was the first day of first grade and I did not want to be late. I start to pick up my things and get up.“What class do you have?” The ki