Breathing heavily, he ran out of the building and, looking over his shoulder, clumsily headed for the school shelter, where students usually smoked cigarettes in hiding from teachers.
In such a situation, he didn't consider it to be the first place they would come to. He simply needed a shelter. He could no longer serve the kids. Furthermore, he was tired of agreeing to everything, buying them food, and overhearing conversations in which they ridiculed him. They mocked him, sneering that he was the son of an abandoned woman who was unable to provide well for him.
They may have been right, but so what? Not everyone was born with a silver spoon in hand; many people had to cope with a lack of money, and this involved resourcefulness and a good calculation of the costs they had to allocate to each day.
Mark's mother had learned over the years how to be frugal to provide a reasonably peaceful life for her child. She did her best to buy him new clothes or shoes at least once a month, which he usually destroyed quickly due to the distance he traveled back home.
They rented a small apartment in an area that was populated by poor people. It was the only thing they could afford, and they had to put up with poor conditions.
Mark did not complain. He never blamed his mother because he knew that she always tried her best for him. She cared about him and was ready to give him everything as long as he was happy.
The teenager would have taken a casual job long ago, if not for the fact that he had low self-esteem. He was afraid to go to any kind of interview because he thought he couldn't handle it. He kept telling himself that he would be rejected in the same way his classmates treated him.
Furthermore, he thought he was good for nothing...
Although the boy was very handsome, his looks did not give him confidence. Why? Because at school, his appearance did not affect who he was. Girls didn't pay attention to him because he was poor. Dating such a boy would expose them to ridicule, so they preferred to be devoted to the rich and confident students who attached the scapegoat label to Mark.
He had long since come to terms with this, although all along he had dreamed that this nightmare would finally come to an end, and he could leave the walls of the unbearable high school.
*
With a slow step, he headed home, kicking up small pebbles along the way. Carelessly slung over his shoulder was a backpack with ridiculous descriptions on it, scribbled with a proofreader by his classmates.
He stood at the bus stop and looked with envy in his eyes at the girl displaying snow-white teeth in the publicity photo. Despite her young age, she had achieved great success, delighting thousands of young people with her charming appearance.
- I would like to be in your position. To be a confident, famous and unconcerned about money, living in luxury, surrounded by people who would admire me - he turned to the photo displayed on the bus stop. - I wish I had been born with your character.
He looked over his shoulder and noticed an oncoming bus. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the girl standing next to him was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, taking him for an oddity.
She glanced at him with her eyes, and her attention was caught by a backpack with offensive words on it. She had no doubt that he was a school nerd.
- And what are you looking at? - he burbled under his breath and with a quick step headed for the bus, which stopped at the bus stop. He boarded and, paying the fare with his cell phone, took a vacant seat.
His smartphone may have deviated from the modern technology that his classmates admired and displayed, but the boy's mother had put aside money for a long time to provide him with a reasonably good cellphone. She didn't want him to be inferior to his peers.
Mark noticed that the girl also got on that bus. She looked around for an empty seat, and because she was mischievous, she deliberately sat next to him.
- I didn't take the time to answer your question.... - She deliberately started a conversation to see why his colleagues did not like him. - You asked me what I was looking at? Well, I was looking at you.
- I am not blind - he stated with indifference in his voice, looking at the window.
- Really? I thought there was something wrong with your eyesight because I was surprised that you were so boldly exposing your backpack to everyone. If I were you, I would try to blot out the offending words or buy a new one.
Mark pressed his lips together, but still did not look at the girl.
- I don't understand why you are talking to me when I don't know you at all. It's my business what condition my backpack is in.
- I'm not at all surprised that no one likes you. - She snorted under her breath and turned her face in the opposite direction so as not to continue the conversation any longer.
Mark stared at the passing cars with obvious envy in his eyes, especially when he spotted young people behind the wheel. Usually, these were luxury cars that caught the eyes of others with their brilliance.
In one of them sat a 20-year-old girl, who was browsing the web on a tablet with boredom. She was reading articles, as well as remarks about her, and nothing impressed her. Over and over again... some raved about her body, others about her face, while others were mere haters who couldn't stand the popularity she had gained in a short time.
She lifted her face and scrutinized with her eyes the driver, who was driving so slowly that it drove her crazy. She wanted to be home as soon as possible and relax after the several-hour photo shoot; however, this man was making everything difficult and because of this, she was starting to get restless.
- You drive like they tied your balls together - she muttered under her breath, flipping pages on the tablet with her hand.
The driver glanced in the mirror, throwing the girl a disgusted look. Fortunately, she didn't notice it, or she would have put him through hell. Recently, he had had enough of her whims. She was picking on him more and more often. Literally about everything. And what's worse, for no reason.
- I try to obey the rules - he replied softly, so as not to agitate her further.
- So don't obey them. Speed up a bit because I feel like drinking something cold. It's terribly hot outside, and I'm not dreaming of anything but relaxing in the apartment.
- The car also has air conditioning, and you can feel the pleasant coolness - he declared, squeezing his hands tighter on the steering wheel. He swallowed his saliva when he saw her hostile attitude in the mirror. She was not happy that the driver dared to discuss it with her.
- I'll just ask you one question. Who in this car should command: me or you?
- Excuse me. - The man nervously scratched the back of his neck, regretting that he had started a conversation with her at all.
- You can apologize to your wife. You are my driver, so you should obey orders, so if you don't like working with me, I will release you. The moment you drive me home, there we can say goodbye - she replied dispassionately, putting down the tablet. She looked at her long nails, painted with yellow polish, and raised a confused gaze to the driver when he unexpectedly stopped the car.
The man breathed loudly, as if he was about to burst into a torrent of the worst curses.
- Why did you stop? Didn't I tell you to hurry?
- I've had enough of your whining, spoiled maiden! Do you think you're better than me because you own a fortune and can afford every whim? You are just a pretty product to shine. People admire you, but no one would want to be friends with you. And do you know why? Because you have a perfidious character. People like you usually end up unhappy. Do you think you will find a husband? Any guy will run away in leaps and bounds, and even money won't stop him with such a scoundrel. Looking at you, I'm sure I'd rather be an ordinary, gray man, but happy with a family - he declared, then opened the door and went outside. Before he left, he looked inside and threw her a disgusted look. - And stop feeding yourself lipstick from your mouth and eat a normal meal because a hungry stomach leads to a person being perpetually unhappy and angry. And that's me slowing down. I wish you a wide road - he added dryly.
Naomi arranged her mouth into an "o" unable to accept into consciousness how she had just been treated by a regular driver.
Had he gone mad? How could he yell at the most recognizable and desirable model in the country? Shouldn't he be cowering at her feet? Where would he find such a well-paying job if not with her?
She got out of the car and, highly indignant, slammed the door, fulminating with a glance at the man who was heading toward the lanes to cross to the other side.
- Idiot. Moron - she said under her breath, taking the driver's seat. Several people spotted her and ran to the car to greet her, but Naomi only sent them a hearty smile through the window, then drove away.
She wasn't in the mood, so she would rather not offend anyone.
She steered the car with a grimace on her face, reflecting on the driver's words. Although she tried to disregard it, his speech kept rumbling in her head.
Wouldn't anyone love her?
The girl snorted under her breath and, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel, focused on driving.
- This old moron didn't seem to know what he was saying. I was going to end up alone? His misfortune - she said to herself, wrinkling her nose. - Pff, after all, the guys are lining up for me.
She braked sharply when she spotted a red light at the last moment.
She looked with boredom at the people who were crossing the lanes. Among them were elderly people, middle-aged people, and young people. Each of them had their life. Some were happy, others were walking with a frowning face, while others looked simply depressed.
A young boy caught Naomi's special attention. She opened her eyes wider and looked with interest at the brunet who got off the bus. He sped up his step to pass the green light, and when he turned his face toward her, she froze at that moment.
She followed him closely until he disappeared from her sight. Someone honked from behind to urge her on, as the light changed.
Driving the car, she couldn't get out of her shock. She told herself it was a prediction and began to freak out or just create images she wanted to see.
Because how else could she explain it?
What is wrong with me? After all, it's impossible, she thought. He is not there. He doesn't exist.
*
Mark ran through the green light at the last minute. He lowered his gaze, heading down the sidewalk that led to the neighborhood where he lived. He didn't like the place. And not because it was poor. He wasn't ashamed of it because he was happy that he and his mother had a roof over their heads.
He didn't like the neighborhood because the neighbors could be envious. One looked at the other crookedly. They were interested in the lives of others, and when someone in particular wasn't doing well, then they laughed sultrily under their breath, enjoying someone else's misfortune.
Mark did not understand this. He couldn't comprehend how a person could be hateful just because things didn't work out in his life. Virtually everyone in the neighborhood was poor, but of them only his mother was not interested in her neighbors' problems. She didn't care if someone suddenly got lucky and won the lottery. If he did, she wished him the best of luck and finally made a life for himself, while others threw mud at him. Out of jealousy...
The teenager looked over his shoulder as he got the impression that someone was following him. He had felt the presence of a person ever since he got off at the bus stop. And he wasn't mistaken at all, as the girl who accompanied him on the bus ride was proudly walking behind him.
The short, dark-haired teenager smiled broadly when she noticed that the boy had finally spotted her. She eagerly nodded to him, but Mark ignored her. He didn't know what kind of crazy girl she was, and he hadn't trusted people since his peers started mocking him. He was sick of being humiliated and wasn't going to make friends with anyone for fear of another rejection.
- Hey! - she shouted impatiently when she noticed that the boy had disregarded her. - Don't be an asshole and wait for me.
She ran up to him and purposely stood in his way to make him stop.
- I know you don't associate with me because I've noticed over the past few days that you don't notice anything going on around you. For your information, I am a new neighbor who lives in the house next to you. I wasn't at all surprised when you said on the bus that you didn't know me. You walk around kind of unconscious, and even though you passed me several times, you didn't look at me once. Your character sucks. And moreover, that backpack - she stammered, shaking her head in disappointment. - And it's a shame because you're a cool guy. If you weren't such a dumbass, I'd probably chase you.
- You already do - he muttered under his breath, dodging her dismissively.
- At this point, I'm chasing you because I want to know what's wrong with you. Maybe I can give you some confidence? Walking around with your head down and letting others treat you like trash is demeaning. With your looks, I could make you a nice guy....
- Get lost, tick. You have nothing to do with how I am treated by others. Get on with your life and give me a holy peace of mind - he announced irritably, speeding up his step. He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and walked away, leaving the stranger behind.
The girl stopped with an indignant attitude and crossed her arms on her chest.
- Such breakers achieve nothing in life. Do you want to live by your mommy's side for the rest of your life? - she shouted at him, but the boy let her words pass by her ears.
He was well aware of his hopelessness. He hated the character he was born with and the fact that he gave up so easily. Many times, he tried to get up from his chair and shout "enough" to the whole class. Unfortunately, he would let go at the last minute, afraid that he would be laughed at again, that he wouldn't be able to cope, and that this would ultimately get him patched up as a loser for life.
Mark cursed himself in his mind, repeatedly crying in a corner. He wanted to do something and finally change his life, but he was afraid to take a chance.
He was weak.
The girl there was right. He needed someone to help him get back on his feet and finally show the world that he too could be confident and achieve something. To prove to all those who scolded him that he could be better than them, despite his poverty.
He wanted to finally overcome his fear, but without the help of others. He wanted to do it on his strength and prove to himself that he was worth something. That he deserved to live in this world.
He entered the house and the first thing that caught his attention was his mother, who was sitting on the floor thoughtfully, staring blankly at the window. She looked worried and didn't even notice that her son had come home.
- Mom? - The woman shifted her gaze to him, and joy appeared in her eyes. Mark was the only happiness in her life that still made her feel like opening her eyes in the morning. If she didn't have him, she would have given up long ago.
- There you are, son. - Exhaustion could be heard in her voice, which alerted that the woman was fed up with her problems and constant life of poverty.
- Are you all right? Are you feeling well?
She wanted to answer that she wasn't because another issue had arrived, but she wasn't going to worry him. She was an adult, and she planned to deal with this issue on her own, she didn't want Mark to get involved. This was about him, and if she were to lose him, she wouldn't stand for it.
- I'm just having a bad day. You don't have to worry, nothing bad is happening.
The boy nodded and before going into his room, he pulled the door open and looked carefully at his mother. He was not stupid. He could see that something was wrong, but even if he wanted to get it out of her, he wouldn't know anything until she herself decided that he should be told.
That's why he let it go.