Duplicated Insanity

Chapter 3

The Waiting

The tapping became a spasmodic click that went off several times every second, dragging time out, making it longer. At first Sora had tried to tap his pencil on the table with the ticking of the second hand on the clock, but his impatience soon took care of that. Sora tried to will the second hand to match the speed of his pencil, to please hurry up so he could get out of class. Rolling his eyes, Sora drown out thh teacher's, "Sora would you please stop tapping your pencil like that," but he couldn't miss her glare so he tossed the writing utensil down on the desk and began to tap his foot instead. The teacher seemed about to comment on this but instead closed her mouth and continued lecturing the class on God-knows-what.

Sora continued to tap his foot and eventually he picked up his pencil again without even realizing it and soon it was also clicking against his desk. After some time the drumming of wood against wood began to even out and there was a clear amount of taps per each tick of the clock hand. Sora measured these and counted and tried to find out how many taps there were every minute while keeping the beat of his pencil still the same.

He had never felt this bored in a class.

Generally, Sora paid attention to his lessons, did well in school; he was polite to teachers and peers; almost never did he pass in assignments late or get in fights.

Actually, it literally was never. Sora's record as completely clean. To date, the only improper thing Sora had ever done was make tapping noises that bothered the teacher when she was speaking. And that had happened once... Which was then. When the bell rang, Sora was almost the first person up and out of the room, whereas usually, he would take his time and make sure he didn't drop anything or knock anything over when he moved- not to say he was particularly neat with his things. He just didn't want to get caught up in the throng of students rushing from the room.

Sora pushed his way into the hallway and breathed in as soon as he had gotten to the safety of his locker. The girl next to him, Jerika, was talking to her friend Eliza excitedly, about the same topic she spoke of everyday.

"Oh my God! So, he was all, like, 'wanna smoke some killer weed, baby?' and she was all, 'okay!' and then Rita actually did!"

Rita. The girl did not go to this school. She did not live anywhere near anyone Sora knew. Noone knew this obscure person except for Jerika, and she was absolutely all the teen ever talked about. Sora often wondered if she even existed. But he never said that because, of course; that would just be nasty. Noone else ever said anything either, and Sora could never be positive whether ot not she really existed. Rolling his eyes, Sora shoved his books in his locker and turned away from the chattering teens, heading for the cafeteria.

Sora offered brittle smiles to people that passed him, trying not to let the curve of his lips crumble and fall, betraying the facade he had so carefully set up. Pushing open the double doors he headed for the table he and his friends usually sat at. He hesitated in the center of the cafeteria, not quite letting his foot hit the floor. Sora couldn't really say that he wanted to sit there today. He wasn't really hungry at all. Backing up a few steps, his smile finally faded to be replaced with an almost disbelieving frown. For reasons Sora couldn't quite discern, he suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that the people around him, eating, laughing with friends, should not, could not, be trusted. Turning smartly on his heel he took 7 quick strides and pushed the cafeteria doors open and tore down the hallyway, scaring most everyone he passed.

Finally, he made it through the main entry and, step-stumbling down the stairs, took a deep breath of the air around him. The outdoors air was much fresher, devoid of the lingering scent left behind by too many people in one place. Almost like a smell of collaborative dishonesty that no amounts of air freshener or truths can clear away. As Sora was pacing back and forth at the bottom of the steps, the soles of his shoes slapped angrily against the smooth concrete. He couldn't concentrate with the noise. He wasn't even sure what he was trying to concentrate on. But he knew for sure it wasn't that annoying whapping sound.

Sora slowed his pace.

He winced as his feet scuffled on the pavement, scraping against the few ridges there. Puffing out his cheeks, he flopped down to sit on the stairs. He drummed his hands on his knees, impatient but not quite sure why; tried breathing regularly to calm himself down but it didn't help; massaged his temples-- he didn't have a headache so there was really no point in it though; began nibbling on the corner of his lip, felt like a bunny, stopped.

Impatience quickly fading to anger, Sora began to dig his nails into his knees. It actually made him feel a little bit better. He did it some more. It wasn't until his skin gave way to a tiny flow of blood that Sora stopped, curing and wiping it on his shorts. He jumped as the relative silence around him was broken.

"Hey, Sora, what's up?"

Kairi flopped down beside him.

Sora pulled his shorts down a tiny bit to cover his cuts.

"Nothing... I suppose," he said wistfully, for once not enjoying the red-heads company.

Kairi giggled. "Does doing nothing often make you talk to yourself like that?"

Sora pursed his lips but then forced himself to smile, replying, "I guess it does."

Another giggle. "Must be exciting... But I have to go practice... It's only like our bajillionth practice this week." Sora winced. Kairi was pretty, funny, nice, but sometimes she was just so... kiddish. But then he'd never minded that before. He'd always liked that in her. He smiled, a fake one but she bought it. "Hey maybe you should tell your sister to ease up on us, I'm sure she'd listen," Kairi laughed. "To you but not to us."

Another fake smile in return.

"Oh right but I have to go. Bye!"

Kairi leaped up and rushed around the side of the school, heading for the back field. Sora let his fake smile slowly fade into a grimace of contempt.

Contempt. Disgust.

Looking around him at the only mostly green grass and the half-blocked out sun, the rusted gates at the front of the building, Sora couldn't help but be very displeased. With everything. With Kairi's chidish girliness. The annoying Rita who didn't exist except in Jerika's other world, openly publicised next to Sora's locker. The overly loud chatter in the cafeteria.

With himself for not being able to accept these things like before.