[It's not even third period and Veser's been yelled at, scolded, given detention, and crushed by the realization that he doesn't have money for lunch. With a start like that, what's the point of staying. He's grumbling to himself at his locker, hood pulled over his head to hide the new cut on his cheek that he hasn't bandaged properly yet. Today sucks, the world sucks, life sucks, everything fucking sucks. Lee might come around today, he's never sure these days since Lee started working later hours. That also sucks ass, because Lee is his reminder that not all adults are horrible human beings, and his shield from his dad's more physical manners of abuse. His mother is as cut throat as always, and Veser can't fathom why Lee is so in love with her.]
[To each his unrequited own, he supposes.]
[Veser empties his locker into his backpack, shoving all his books and stray papers right on in without caring to put them in nicely. When he goes home tonight, after wherever he goes now, he wants to have some way to look busy and have a reason to lock his door. His parents don't invite him to dinner, they hardly make enough for him to have after they've had their fill, his dad out of douchebaggery and his mother out of spite. He has a debit card with maybe $13 on it, he can hit up a McD's and deal with having to each chicken when he really wants fish.]
[He slams his locker shut, grunts as he heaves his backpack over his shoulder, and stalks down the hall toward the front doors.]
no subject
[To each his unrequited own, he supposes.]
[Veser empties his locker into his backpack, shoving all his books and stray papers right on in without caring to put them in nicely. When he goes home tonight, after wherever he goes now, he wants to have some way to look busy and have a reason to lock his door. His parents don't invite him to dinner, they hardly make enough for him to have after they've had their fill, his dad out of douchebaggery and his mother out of spite. He has a debit card with maybe $13 on it, he can hit up a McD's and deal with having to each chicken when he really wants fish.]
[He slams his locker shut, grunts as he heaves his backpack over his shoulder, and stalks down the hall toward the front doors.]