Perfect people don't exist

Chapter 2

A pic of Ezra

Ezra:

What was his problem? I watched him walk away. Carter, he was interesting. There was something about his, actually many things about him that I didn't understand and it annoyed me so much! Like he never accepted my help, he was a try hard, he always had odd bruises on his face, yet I still wanted to help him. I had an urge to want to be friends with him. Close to him at all times, but every time I tried he rejected me. Sure I might give him a hard time sometimes but that's because sometimes he pisses me off.

I decided to let it go and head to English. When I entered the room, I saw Carter. He looked like a nervous wreck. This is why it irritated me, he irritated me. He got amazing grades, he had a cute vibe to him (sadly not his personality) and he would be my definition of perfect, but then he just freaked out even though I bet he knew he would get a good grade. Then again I didn't believe perfect people existed, though maybe I could make an exception for that one. Maybe. If you haven't guessed it I'm bi, and I may have an odd crush or thing for Carter. I don't know.

Last week we had to do like, maybe two tests for each class because the teachers thought they should torture us. Not really, but I don't understand why they would make us 2 tests. When the teacher gave Carter his test paper Carter stormed out of the room. The teacher called his name but he was already gone before he heard. I gave a look to the teacher to say "want me to go after him?", she nodded and I left.

I don't know why I always volunteered to go after him, especially because his melodramatises is another reason why he pisses me off. I guess I really had a soft spot for him, I think he really needed a friend because if anything in this school he just has bullies. Actually no, I don't have a goddamn idea what he needs because we aren't even friends. My observations calculate he doesn't let anyone in.

I caught up with him in time to see he ran into the bathroom. I followed him in there, hearing a cubicle door shut when I entered. I looked into the bin to see a scrunched up piece of paper. I pulled it out, and like I suspected it was his test paper. 89%. How could he be upset with this. I got a 79% and I'm thriving.

"Carter?" I knocked on the cubicle.

I could just hear his subtle sobs on the other side. I knocked again.

"Carter! Let me in!" I said in a more harsh voice.

"Why should I!?" A raspy voices retorted.

"I don't know why you keep trying whatever it is your doing, but it's not working. I don't want friends, I don't need them! Now would you please leave me alone!" He cried out.

The sadness in his voice made me sad. For once I didn't feel mad for him being dramatic but I felt pity for him. Yet it still didn't make sense as to why he could be so upset over a grade. His parents would be so proud of him for this, so why isn't he?

I let his words sink in. I wasn't giving up on him, there was something about him that kept me wanting more and I wasn't stopping until he let me in. I wanted to be his friend. I wanted to stop the bullies, I don't know why I don't stand up for him, maybe I should. I need to show him I care.

"Please. Just leave me alone." He sobbed.

I reluctantly left. I will talk to him later though.

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Lunch came quickly and my mind drifted from Carter during them, but now it's lunch. I roam the halls looking for him. I knew he didn't sit in the cafeteria, so where would he be? I went into the courtyard where nearly no one sat. I scanned the area, then I saw him. I walked over to him. My shadow covering the sunshine that was once covering him.

I sat down on the sandstone bleacher beside him.

"I told you to leave me alone," he sighed.

I chuckled lightly, not really knowing what else to do. His head was looking into a book, a book that wasn't his.

"That's not your book, we're not doing calculus," I said.

He shrugged, not looking at me. I took the book from him to see who's it was. Of course it was his. I shut the book and dropped it on the ground. He then reached his arm to grab it but I grabbed his arm, making him flinch.

"S-stop," he stuttered.

My grip wasn't even that strong? I didn't have the intentions of hurting him but I didn't let my grip on him go.

"Do. Not. Pick. It. Up." I said slowly and sternly to make it clear.

"O-okay, just l-l-let go please," he sounded hurt now. Shit.

I let go immediately, he rubbed his wrist, then went to pick up the book. Damn. Well, I tried.

"Why are you doing his work?" I scowled.

"Why does it matter to you?" He fired back.

Why did he have to be so defensive?

"Because you shouldn't have to do someone else's work," I tried to reason.

He didn't say anything for a second, I thought I had him. I thought.

"Just don't worry about it," he muttered.

Thoughts of his test and the bathroom came back to me. Why did he think he had to be president perfect, I mean no one is perfect, that's just the way things are. I went into my backpack and pulled out his test, putting it onto the other student's book. That's it!

"You know, no one is perfect right? So stop trying to be it," I know I said that he may be perfect, but I need to show him that he doesn't have to be so hard on himself.