Work Text:
Today was another achingly dull day of school. Another monstrously boring day of worksheets. Another painfully lonely day of nobody.
Classmates surrounded him, yammering so loud he couldn't hear himself think. There were so many of them, all intent on imposing themselves on his life. None of them mattered. They all blended into one identity. One that he wanted nothing to do with. One that wanted nothing to do with him.
He buried his head in his arms. He couldn't believe it but… he was starting to miss camp. At least the people there were interesting , even if they were stupid and annoying. It's not like his current classmates were any less annoying. They just never talked to him.
The end of school bell rang. Max was the first out of his seat and through the door. He was in no hurry to get home, but he was in a hurry to get out of that hell hole of meaningless noise.
Max's mother said she would be home by three, but he knew that wouldn't be the case that day. It was never the case. So, since he knew he had time, he stopped by the convenience store for a snack. He had a few dollars to spare from selling his old homework to some idiot fourth grader. There had to be something he could get with that.
No one greeted him when the bell on the door chimed. Max glanced around the store. The checkout counter was unstaffed. Guess he could save those few dollars for a rainy day. He wandered around the store for a bit, slipping candy bars into his pockets when he thought he was out of sight of the security cameras. Once he had a satisfactory haul, he strolled out of the store.
Max walked the rest of the way back to his house. He opened the front door. Or at least, he tried. It was locked. Max threw his head back with a dramatic groan, then went around his house and scaled the fence to his backyard. He tugged open the bathroom window and sure enough, it was unlocked. It usually was. Using the lawn chair under it as a step stool, he climbed through the window and hopped down onto the toilet. He closed the window before heading to the kitchen.
He opened the fridge. A couple of condiments, some unappealing leftovers, fruit that shouldn't be in there… Nothing looked appetizing. He shut it and tried the pantry. There wasn't much better in there. Again, he went to the fridge. He was met with the same options. After staring into the pantry for a few moments, he settled on an open sleeve of crackers that had been in the same spot since before he left for camp.
He plopped down on the couch with his snack and turned on the TV. A few minutes of channel flipping later, he settled on a cooking show. He didn't like it, but it was better than watching some shitty teen drama. Seeing the professionally made meals did make him a little envious. A pang of longing shot through his heart; a longing to have someone to teach him things like that. God knows his mother would never bother.
He huffed a growl and flipped to a home renovation show. It was kinda fun to gawk at people's poor financial decisions. Though it was also infuriating sometimes. So much money and yet they go for fucking greige. That's exactly what the family he was watching chose. They wanted to replace their old, comfy-looking red couch with a gray one that looked hard as a rock. And replace the wood table with a black fiberglass one. And replace the hardwood with gray laminate.
“Your floors are fucking fine! You're wasting your money! Fucking idiots…” He flipped to a nature show.
A jaguar was stalking lone marsh deer. Its yellow fur blended in with the surrounding weeds. The deer was eating some water plants. It hadn't sensed the danger. The jaguar advanced. Reeds rustled. The deer's head shot up.
Keys jingled in the front door. Max's head popped up. In walked not his mother, but the dick she decided to date. Max glared at him. The man stared back at him. He hated looking that asshole in the eyes, but he had to. Can't give the enemy the impression they won. Eventually, the douchebag turned away and into the kitchen. Max turned back to his show, but kept an eye on the man in his peripheral vision.
The deer bolted as fast as it could. The jaguar raced after it. It was hot on the deer's tail.
Fuckwad took the unappealing leftovers from the fridge and stuck them in the microwave. After a few moments, it beeped. He took them out.
The deer wasn't fast enough. An injured leg slowed it down enough for the jaguar to have an opportunity to pounce. Giant claws pierced its hindquarters. The deer shrieked.
Asshat got a fork and went for the stairs. He stopped by the couch. Max turned his head to glare at him again. He stared at him. Then went up the stairs. Max breathed a quiet sigh. He turned back to the TV.
The deer had gotten away. The jaguar stood huffing. Its jaws were open in a snarl.
Max flipped to another channel. He didn't register what it was and he didn't care. It was background noise.
He pulled a book from his school bag he had on the floor beside him. It was a garbage book in a series of slop, but it was easy to read and distracting enough. The contents didn't matter.
Three quarters through his book, Max heard keys in the door once again. He glanced at the clock. Six twenty-three. So much for being home at three. Her jewelry jangled as she fumbled to lock the door.
“Hi, mom.” He looked up from his book, but kept it in his hands. His mother didn't respond.
“What's for dinner?” he asked.
She shot him a glare. “Whatever you want. I'm not cooking.”
Max averted his eyes to his book. His mother opened and closed the fridge. He peeked over his book to see her trudge up the stairs.
His gaze shifted to the window. The lone tree in his backyard whispered to him through the glass. It waved to him with one of its branches. Max got up.
School bag in hand, he quietly opened and closed the sliding door. He sat cradled between two of the tree's solid roots. He took out a piece of notebook paper and his pen.
David,
I never thought I would do this, but here I am. Writing a letter to be sent to your fucking P.O. box. Who the hell even has a P.O. box? What are you, a fucking YouTuber? Don't take that as a suggestion. You'd probably make it about something lame like trees or camping.
Max's pen hovered above the paper. His brow was furrowed. He scrunched his eyes shut. After a few moments, he sighed, opening his eyes and putting his pen back to paper.
Things have been boring where I'm at. Nothing ever happens. It's the same shit every damn day. My classmates are stupid, my teachers hate their jobs, and my parents you already fucking know about.
He stopped again. His bottom lip quivered.
I kinda miss camp. I still think the activities were dumb and everyone there was annoying as hell, but at least people fucking knew I was there. I was a fucking terror and everyone knew it. Everyone knew who I was. I miss the other campers. I miss Nikki and Neil.
A tear fell on the paper. He tried to blot it away, but it had already warped the paper. He cursed himself under his breath.
Hell, I even miss you. You sucked, but at least you gave a shit. You took me out for pizza after I ruined your one shot to impress that dickwad Cameron. Who fucking does that? You could've kicked me out of the fucking camp but no, you did that. You did that and so much other dumb bullshit that made me feel like a person that mattered in the fucking slightest.
He wiped his face on his sleeve.
The letter is a fucking mess. I don't know if I'm gonna send if. If you get it, cool I guess. If you don't, it's in the fucking trash. Whatever. Maybe I'll see you next summer.
- Max
He stuffed the paper in his bag, curling his knees to his chest. A sob escaped his throat. He buried his face in his knees.