The Boy in the Black Suit

IT WAS THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. ACTUALLY, IT WAS THE nineteenth day of school, but it was my first day, and all I could think about was how happy I was that I had already missed three weeks, and that this would be the last first day in this place I would ever have. Thank God. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate school. I just wasn’t really in the mood to be lugging books around, or learning stuff that didn’t really matter to me, or even worse, being around people that I didn’t really matter to. I know, I know- I sound like a prime candidate for black fingernails and emo poetry, but I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I just wasn’t feeling too social. Scratch that-I wasn’t feeling social at all. Lockers slamming, sneakers screeching and squeaking on the floor as every kind of teenager ran through the hallways laughing and shouting on their way to class—it was all like one big nail on an even bigger chalkboard. Everyone was zipping by, bumping me, as I sort of floated through the halls like some kind of zombie.
It was like I was living in a different world where everything was backward. Ms. Harris, the principal who normally spent most of her time hiding from students in her office, offered to actually walk me to my locker. Meanwhile, kids I was cool with—at least I thought I was cool with-like James Skinner, totally ignored me. See what I mean? Backward.
The last time I saw James was during the summer when our whole class had to meet up at the school to have our senior pictures taken. Me and James joked about how much we hated taking photos, and how our crazy moms were obsessed about the whole thing. I told him how my mother begged me to smile, but I knew I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Not because I didn’t want to, it’s just that every time a camera was pointed at me, I never knew what to do with my face. Some people can smile on cue. You say “smile,” and they go ear to ear, flashing every tooth in their mouth. And some people… can’t. I was one of those. So, I knew in my senior pictures I would look just like I did in my junior, sophomore, and freshman pictures like a robot. Except this time, it would be a robot face in a cap and gown, which is even worse.
The point is, I had just seen my so-called friend James-had just joked about this corny senior picture crap with him—and now he was acting like he didn’t even know me. I guess that’s what happens when people find out your mom just died. You become invisible. At least I did. To everybody. Well, almost everybody.
“Yo, Matt, I’m so sorry about your moms, man.”