This is a 6-part story that provides plenty of fun. The story builds as the main character grows as a person. Initially, the main character is hard to like, but he grows on you, have faith. This chapter is light on sex, but it gets better over the story.
Everyone having sex is at least 18. This story is a work of fiction. I made it all up. Check reality at the door and enjoy it for what it is, a fun story. Special thanks to rancher46 and RF-Fast for editing my story.
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Chapter 1 -- Why I am me
Oh yes, kiss me, Michelle Hurley. Mmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmm. Your hair is so pretty. Those eyes are mesmerizing, your nose ....
"HAL! Wake up," yells Andrea, and I get pushed on my arm. I don't move. Now I get punched.
"Thanks, bitch," I say to my sister Andrea, as I'm sitting up, waking up from a nice dream. Across the hall from me, I see the door is open. I sprint for the door, quickly strip, and jump in the shower. Ahhhh.
There is banging on the door by Becky, "Come on, you've been in there forever! HURRY UP! I have school."
I scream, "I just got in here! Hold your horses!"
Becky shouts, "You have three minutes, and I am throwing you out."
They all get fifteen minutes; I get five. That's my life in a nutshell. I'm the youngest of eight in the family. There is a grand total of one boy, me. My parents wanted a boy so bad that there was another child every year until I came along. We all have a birthday in July.
I barely get my underwear on when the door opens. My arm is grabbed, and I am tossed out of the washroom. Now the princess can take a shower. With eight of us, we need a third shower. With no parents, all the money is reserved for bills and college for them. I'm not smart; I'm artistic. I play the guitar that I bought at a garage sale. It's an old beat-up, no name, six-string acoustic guitar.
It's scratched, needs new strings, and has magic marker drawings. In a word, it's ugly as sin.
I couldn't read music until junior high when I joined the band where they taught me to read music. Up until then, I listened close to a song and repeated it by sound. The sound is much different when an amplifier projects the sound using a speaker. I can't play the same way as they do. They have special devices to adjust the sound and amplifiers to do concerts. I could repeat every note, riff, and chord with the best of them on my $3.00 guitar with time.
I grab a bagel and am on my way to school. We only live a few blocks away; that's the one break I get in life. Even though I'm a senior now, many kids pick on me. Even the younger ones do it. My clothes aren't good enough, my hair isn't nice enough, I'm not smart enough, and I'm not good at sports.
There are several cute girls at school, but none of them will look at me, although a few have defended me if the guys start punching me. I'm picked last in the gym, and nobody wants to be my partner in class when we need a partner. I always end up with the teacher.
I think you get the idea. My life kind of sucks. It sucks at school. I have no friends; I don't fit in with a group. Even at home, the best I can do is stay out of the way. My sisters are hot. They know I look at them, and that makes them mad. So, I'm better off not being around them. Not one of them has a job. They're either in college or grad school to become doctors, lawyers, engineers, and not sure about others. All I know is that nobody ever moves out.
They don't date, so I hear buzzing and screams until late at night. On the positive side, they're all intelligent. Eventually, I will know a doctor, lawyer, and engineer. I don't see how driving a train will help me, but it must be hard if you need grad school.
I don't know it yet, but today will change my life forever.
Chapter 2 -- School
I am having one of the worst days ever. First I lose my lunch money. Someone probably stole it while I was at PE. I flunked a history exam, I lost my English paper, which I worked a week on. Again, someone probably stole it. I got punched twice today. A kid used a marker on my shirt. My sisters are going to be pissed at me. Since I have no money, I sit in the library. I put my head down in my hands and softly cry.
If anyone knew I was crying, it would be much worse. I had only felt worse when I was told that mom and dad died in a plane crash coming home from Jamacia. That was the beginning of my misery. It never got better. It's all caught up to me now, as how truly pathetic I am. Here I am, eighteen years old. Too scared to ask a girl out, and I'm crying in the library.
Then it got worse.
"Awww, is the little baby is crying," says the asshole Brad Stevens.
I hear his possie of girlfriend's giggle at me. I ignore him. I don't want them to see me. I rub my eyes to try and hide the evidence.
The next thing I know, I am on the ground. The asshole pushed me right off my chair. I am pissed off. I am sick and tired of people picking on me. I blew up. I have energy flowing through my body. I feel indestructible. Time to teach this asshole a lesson. I stand up, turn around, and throw the hardest punch I can at his face. He ducks, and I miss him altogether.
Now Brad is mad that I took a swing at him. He returns the favor to my face.
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"Hal! Hal! Wake up," says our eighty-year-old nurse that doesn't wear a bra. I get hit in the face several times with her breasts as she's attempting to wake me up. Ewwwwww!
She does look relieved that I have woke up.
She asks me, "Do you want to explain why you have a black eye?"
I can't look at her as I say, "Nope."
She tries again, "You're going to get suspended for fighting."
I don't say anything. There's no point. I know how this is going to work out already.
She pokes me, "Tell ME!"
I'm snarky as I say, "What's the point. He hit me. My eye is swollen shut. I will get suspended for a week, and nothing will happen to him."
She laughs at me, "You know there's a policy that when there's a fight, both people are suspended."
It's my turn to laugh at her, "Tomorrow there is a big football game. No way they will suspend the star quarterback for hitting me."
She tries to make me feel better, "Schools in this area aren't like that. Here, put this icepack on your eye for fifteen minutes. Brad, here is an icepack for your hand. I want you by the window, away from Hal."