Elijah
"So, can anyone tell me what Indifference means?" Mr Roberts asked, while pacing up and down the rows of desks in the classroom.
I put my hand into the air.
"Ryan?" Mr Roberts asked.
I turned around from my seat at the front of the class to see if Ryan also had his hand up. I was guessing by the way he was slouched at his desk, his pen drawing some sort of elaborate doodle on his worksheet, that, in fact, he was not offering an answer.
"Ryan!" Mr Roberts said, a little shaper this time, making Ryan snap his attention to the teacher in front of him.
I shook my head and turned back round to face the front. I never knew why teachers did that. If a person didn't want to learn, then why force the issue? If the teachers just spent their time concentrating on those that did wish to learn, we'd probably be able to get through twice the content.
I heard a sigh come from Ryan.
"If you want me to answer the question, you're going to have to repeat it," he said in a flat tone that personified the boy perfectly. I wasn't sure why he even turned up. In fact, he often didn't.
"Define indifference," Mr Roberts repeated.
A small puff of air, like a laugh came from Ryan, making me glance back at him again. He had a smirk on his face, his eyes still on his doodle.
"How I feel about this lesson?" he said without looking up. A snigger went up around the classroom.
"Thank you for your wonderful insight Mr Stone," the teacher said with a huff.
The teachers of Barrington High School had long since given up on trying to reform Ryan Stone. Part way through our last year of school, he was definitely now viewed as a lost cause.
"Anyone else?" Mr Roberts asked.
My hand went up again.
"Yes Elijah?"
Finally.
"Indifference is a lack of interest or concern. People without sympathy for others are often labelled as indifferent."
A cough was heard from somewhere in the back at the same time I heard "nerd" being spluttered.
I didn't care. I was kind of used to it by now. I never really understood why they had a problem with me answering questions. Surely if I answered them, it saved them from having to do it, and then getting it wrong. Plus it moved the lesson along at a much more engaging pace.
"Thank you Elijah," Mr Roberts said then began heading back to the front of the class.
"Now let's look at how indifference can be seen as a theme running through this book. In pairs, I want you to select three different characters and list some examples of where they show indifference."
Mr Roberts sat down at his desk and a general murmur went up around the class as people paired up.
I immediately got to work, not even considering finding a partner. I worked quicker alone.
Only a couple of minutes later I was interrupted by Mr Roberts again.
"Ryan, please can you join up with Elijah at the front here."
My head shot up, then quickly swivelled back to where Ryan was sitting. Ryan usually paired up with Darren but with my cursory glance I could see that Darren's desk was currently sat empty.
I felt myself begin to panic.
"Um, it's ok, I've already started," I said, giving a pleading look to Mr Roberts.
"I'm sure Mr Stone won't have a problem with that?" he said, shooting a look at Ryan that seemed to dare him to disagree.
The two had a bit of a stare off, before Ryan finally dropped his head with a sigh and began lifting his body from his seat, making it seem like it was a great effort.
I'd noticed that about Ryan. His limbs always seemed too big for his body. But it wasn't because he was particularly tall, or had long arms and legs, it was more the way he carried himself, like his arms and legs weighed more than they should.
I quickly snapped my gaze away when he began making his way over, before he saw me staring and got the wrong idea.
The chair next to mine was scraped back along the floor, making me wince, before I heard the weight of Ryan flop into it.
"Make sure he does at least some of the work," Mr Roberts directed at me, before his attention went back to the pile of papers on his desk.
I swallowed, which was alarmingly noisy in my head, and then started counting to 10 in a bid to calm down and relax my muscles.
You see, I wasn't great with social interaction in general, and interacting with someone like Ryan seemed just about an impossibility for me. How would one even address someone who spent most of his life round the back of the sports shed smoking god knows what, or getting into fights, or running away from the police? I doubted he'd even read the book we were currently analysing.
As I sat there letting my mind whirl with all the possibilities of how this was going to ultimately lead to my death, I felt increasingly aware of a set of eyes boring into me from the side.
I took a deep breath then turned to look at him. My eyes met with his, and the intensity of his stare had me snapping my head back down to look at my desk again.
I'd never really looked at his eyes before. They were almost slate grey in colour. I'd only ever seen him looking bored and half asleep, so the alertness of the eyes that met mine had startled me somewhat.
"Are you afraid of me or something?" Ryan said in an amused tone.
My brain fixed onto the question, offering me some temporary relief from my racing thoughts. Was I afraid of him?
"No," I answered honestly, still not lifting my head to look at him, "I'm just uncomfortable with most social interactions, and I think talking to you is most definitely going to fit into that bracket."
Ryan chuckled next to me and the sound allowed me to sneak a glance in his direction. His brown hair was rather messy and kept falling into his eyes.
He wasn't looking at me now, and I noticed his pen was scratching away on the elaborate doodle once again. Only now he was so much closer, I could see it more clearly.
"Is that a penis?!" I asked, a little louder than I intended.
"Lots of them actually," he said, and turned the paper towards me so I could see better.
I squinted at the picture, and sure enough the almost geometric design, once you looked at it up close, was in fact made up of lots of different sized and shaped penises. And another shape.
"What are those?" I asked, using my pen to point at the oval shape.
"Vaginas," he replied, making my eyebrows shoot underneath my fringe.
"That's a vagina?!" I asked, my brain to mouth filter, completely broken by this stage.
"What, have you not seen one before?" he asked with a smirk.
I felt my cheeks warm but quickly shot back, "I don't need to see one to know they don't look like that!"
"Ah, so you're criticising my art skills then?" he said, suddenly sitting up and facing me.
I felt myself shrink back a bit, not happy to have his gaze back on me. But of course my mouth continued regardless.
"It depends. I could be criticizing your art skills, or it could be your imagination, or maybe it's your memory that's at fault."
Ryan snorted out a laugh, which in turn had me breathing a sigh of relief. I found that my frankness, which most of the time I couldn't help, seemed to upset a lot of people. It was one of the reasons why I struggled to make friends.
"You're so weird!" he said, and I turned once again to see him smiling in amusement.
"I've been called worse," I said with a shrug.
"Oh, it's not an insult," Ryan replied.
I cast a glance to the side again, and could see his focus was back on his penis and vagina doodle.
I was left a bit flummoxed by what had just happened, but again, that wasn't uncommon with me, so I was able to forget about it and move on quickly.
"Do you want me to finish the assignment?" I asked after a brief silence.
Ryan sighed.
"Yeah, that's probably best seen as I haven't read the book."
"I thought not," I replied, and promptly got back to where I'd left off before I'd been disturbed by Mr Roberts.
We remained in silence for the rest of the lesson, but I felt his gaze on me more than once. I also felt Mr Robert's gaze on me too, probably making note of the fact I was doing all the work. I never liked anyone looking at me, but it was funny how the two gazes made me feel very different. One made me feel itchy and hot and the other made me restless and hyper aware of every part of my body.
Once I finished the task, I handed the paper across to Ryan.
"Here," I said, "write our names and the date on the top."
I glanced up at him for a second, to see that he was shooting me a confused look.
"Why?" he asked. "Could you've not done it?" But he proceeded to do what I'd asked anyway.
"Of course I could," I replied, taking the paper back off him when he slid it over. "But Mr Roberts said you had to do something, so this is you doing something."
Ryan laughed. "Seriously, I don't think writing our names exactly counts."
I shrugged. "He didn't specify what you did, just as long as you did something."
The bell sounded which was immediately followed by the sound of 24 chairs being simultaneously scraped backwards.
"Put your work on the end of my desk," Mr Roberts called out over the noise. "And make sure your names are on the top."
"See," I said, briefly turning to Ryan as I packed my bag. "Turns out your bit was important after all."
Then I walked over and put our paper on the teacher's desk before walking out of the classroom.