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Growing up a Stark was all well and good I suppose, but I don't really want to tell you about it, if I'm honest. It's not really all that interesting, you could guess what it was all like really. Stereotypical daddy wasn't around much cuz he was busy with work but when he was around he loved me but he just wasn't around enough so I grew up sad and angry and a little weird and I blame all my issues on my father not being there for me 24/7.
When he was here instead of fucking off to the other side of the world to fight aliens or whatever it was he did, he was angry at me a lot. For good reason, I'm man enough to admit. My father sent me to Pencey Prep, which wasnt a cheap school. He thought it would do me good. To live at a school. He thought that being surrounded by boys my age and have teachers around to discipline me all the time would make up for the years he spent away.
I understand his thinking, but I think he forgot who's son I was. And he forgot that I had this thing where I just cannot deal with authority. I just hate it, yknow? I really do hate it. Someone tells me what to do, I can't do it. You get me? Even if I was about to do it, if someone pipes up and tells me to do the exact thing I was about to do, I don't want to do it anymore. And I like to excersize my free will. So if I don't want to do it, then I don't do it.
Anyway, I was in trouble a lot at school. I was behind in all my classes, which my dad didn't care about but he did care about the Fs on my report card. "Will, I don't care if you do your homework or not. Just pass the goddamn classes some way or another." Is what he would say.
I guess that was something good about my Dad. There never was much pressure to be good. He always taught me responsibility - at least I think that's what he did. Taught me I was responsible for my own actions and all that bullshit they tell you as a teenager. I guess thats a good thing, in a way.
I mean, I'm not as smart as my Dad. And for someone who reads a lot I am pretty illiterate. I'm no good with numbers, the only class I'm passing is music. I guess that's how my brain works, I suppose. Yknow how some people think in pictures or how some people have an internal monologue? I guess I think in songs.
It's not too bad, I mean I do like music. But people don't really like to see that part of me. Not really. They see my last name and expect me to be this great inventor or at least hold a B in maths and physics. But I don't. I'm failing both. And then they're disappointed in me before they even get to know me. It seems all I do is just let people down because I'm nothing like my dad when it comes to intelligence.
I guess I am similar to him in other ways. You could tell I was his son I suppose. I mean, I look like him, and I talk like him, and sometimes I act like him I guess. A lot of girls are into me, but unlike my dad I have some level of self respect. I don't sleep with every girl that flirts with me. That's just not what I do. In truth, I'm not even into that kind of stuff all that much. Yknow? Id rather just sit down and smoke, watch the sunset maybe. I don't even have to be with a girl, I'd be happy on my own.
I don't think I'm the kind of guy for relationships. Not in a 'no one will ever love me' way, not at all like that. I just don't feel like I need sexual intimacy in my day to day life. I dunno, maybe that will change, maybe it won't. But I've got friends, and I have a dog, and I don't really want much else.
I've had girlfriends before. It's not like I'm inexperienced in that department. I just didn't really feel- anything? Maybe that makes me an asshole, yknow I probably am an asshole. But I just wasn't all that bothered about having a girlfriend. To me it just felt like I had a friend, who wanted to kiss me and I occasionally gave the time to. But I just don't think relationships were for me. The way that others described being in love? I've never felt that, despite having girlfriends before.
Well, maybe one day I will meet a girl who changes my opinion on that. Maybe I will, but maybe I wont. I dont know. I'm not sure what I want. I love my dog, and I love my friends. I love my parents even though my dad pisses me off a lot.
Oh yeah, my dad. He's a good guy and he just wants the best for me. But I am my father son, and because of that I fucked all the chances I was given at getting a solid education. I just hate authority. I know I've said it already but I can't deal with being told what to do.
Maybe one day I'll sort my shit out, I guess. I dunno though. I have a buddy called Wade Wilson. I just know I don't want to turn out like him. So as long as I manage to find a way to not be like him, I guess I'll be alright.
Anyway, I live at Pencey for the most part. I drive home every other weekend, mainly to see my dog and my mum. But I share a dorm with this guy called Ethan Hawks. He's alright I guess, pretty full of himself as all soccer players are. He plays for the school team and is in the running to be captain next year. I won't see it if it he is. I'm in my last term of my senior year, he's a junior. I'm not sad to be leaving Pencey. I got a lot of memories here, most of which involve me getting in trouble and getting lectured by my teachers.
I had this one teacher, Mr Douglas was his name. He taught me history in my last few years before I got kicked from the course. He was a good guy. He saw the best in me, and tried to understand me. But every conversation I had with the man ended up with a lecture about something. The last time I talked to him was the day I almost got expelled. I got pulled into the principle's office, my father was on a phone call cuz god forbid he would ever make the effort to show up to my school. I got told I had to start applying myself to all my classes, or that would be the last I'd be seeing of Pencey Prep. This was a year ago, and I was still there. I guess my Dad must have bought my way to graduation.
Anyway, Douglas caught me while I was bunking maths that same afternoon. He knew about my flunking and potential to get expelled, fuck it the whole school did. But he stopped me in the hall, and he spoke to me. Like properly spoke to me. We had an adult conversation without him diminishing me or making me feel like a child.
"Yknow, Will, you're pretty good at that music gig, I saw you in the practise rooms a while back," is what he said to me. He was just leaning against the wall of the hallway, standing a metre or two Infront of me. We were outside the sports hall, and I kept getting distracted by the sounds of shoes scuffing and basketballs hitting the walls more than the nets
"Thanks, Doug." I had a habit of calling him that. He used to get annoyed and I found myself in detention a few times because of it. But he wasn't too bothered anymore.
"Yeah, I used to play drums for a band called Sector 12 when I was growing up in Jersey. We were pretty shit, fun though. Great memories of that band," he would tell me. Id nod along, agreeing to the points he would make. Mainly just to end the conversation quicker. I'm not really a talker.
"Oh really? Yeah, I'm tryna start a band. No one's really up for it right now I guess," I had said, shrugging my shoulders and looking around the hall. That's another thing about me. I look around a lot. I can't do eye contact or focus my eyes on one point. My eyes are always moving. And my hands. I'm always tapping or fidgeting with something.
"You'll find a band eventually, Will," he'd tell me, I'd just nod, focusing on the cheering coming from the sports hall. Someone must have scored or whatever it's called in basketball. "What class are you meant to be in now, then, anyway?"
Here it comes. Here comes the lecture. He comes Doug telling me to get back to class.
"Uh I have a free," I lied, rubbing my eye with my left hand. A habit I had developed when I would lie.
"Will, kid you have a bright future. You gotta start taking it seriously, you gotta believe me." He had told me. Everyone kept telling me that. It's all anyone would say.
"Quit saying that, you sound like everyone else, man!" I snapped. It was really irking me off. "How do you know about my future? You don't! Quit talking to me like you do! You don't even know me, man."
After than he just looked at me and sighed. I stood there with my fists clenched. I didn't mean it, maybe I did.
"Just get off my back. Leave me alone, fucks sakes," I muttered and I walked off, and that was the last time I spoke to Doug.