I wouldn't call myself a particularly interesting kid. Maybe I'm so used to myself that I can't think of anything remotely interesting. Besides, I hate talking about myself anyway. It always seemed like such a self-obsessed thing to do.
And most of the people in Vault 101 realize how boring of a person I am, even though they're too polite to say it to my face (well, most of them are anyway). I don't show much emotion, mainly because I'm so indifferent to almost everything. I'm humorless, and my voice is usually dull and empty of any feeling.
But somehow, I'm not completely lonely. There's only 16 kids my age in the Vault, with 8 kids in every class. In our class, there are five guys and three girls. I wouldn't say I'm friends with any of the guys. There's Butch, Wally and Paul, and I can't stand them. It's not just because of the beatings I constantly get from them (although that's certainly a big part of it). They're rude, inconsiderate, and they're a burden on everyone.
Then there's Freddie. He's alright. I wouldn't say we're friends, though. We stay out of each other's way. There isn't really anything for us to build a friendship on, so I don't really talk with him much.
I'm the fifth guy, and like I said, I'm a humorless bastard. So that's the guys out of the way. Onto the girls.
There's Susie Mack, Wally's sister. She's a bitch to everyone except Freddie, and I'm almost certain that they're sleeping with each other. Her brother, Wally, is a sadistic fucker, just like his older brother Steve and his father Allen.
There's Christine, who's kinda cute. I guess, anyway. She's quiet, and sticks to herself. Oh, and she's Susie's cousin. Their mothers, Gloria Mack and Mary Kendall, share the same father; Stanley. He practically keeps the Vault running all by himself, and he's always tired and covered in soot.
And then there's Amata, my only real friend down in the Vault. I don't know what it is that makes her want to be my friend, but then again, there was never a time when we weren't friends. My mother died in childbirth, and Amata's mother died when we were two years old. I don't remember her mother much, but I do remember she was always good to me and my dad. She was kind and thought of others before she thought of herself, just like Amata.
Sorry, I'm getting on one of those sidetracks. Anyway, back to Amata. She's beautiful. Tanned skin, dark brown hair that she always tied up behind her head. Dark brown eyes. And God, when she smiled.
The only time I ever really opened up was around her. Somehow I just...felt at home when I was alone with her. We both did, I think. I like her.
Okay, that's a downright lie. I don't like her, I'm madly in love with her.
Sometimes, when we're alone together, when we're reading or doing our homework, I look for ways to ask her if she wants something more. Sometimes I almost reach out to grasp her hand in my own, entwine our fingers. But I don't, because if do she might reject me. And will our friendship ever be the same again, when she knows that I feel more for her than she does for me? It'd be awkward as hell.
When everyone started changing and Mr Brotch started telling us all that embarrassing stuff about...well you can guess, I kept wondering if Amata would somehow bring it up. I had a feeling that she might feel something more than just friendship. Sometimes I'd catch her looking at me when I was distracted, only for her to quickly look away and act like nothing had happened.
I remember lying in bed late on a Saturday night, and I couldn't stop thinking about Amata. I was naked, and I had my hand down between my legs. I imagined her smiling at he, slowly pulling her jumpsuit zipper down. My breathing became more rapid as I wondered how she'd look naked.
I opened my eyes, still in the middle of getting off, and pictured her naked on top of me, moaning and sighing as I pleasured her...
The thought was too much, and I gasped as I came. Every time before that, it had just been the sensation, but the fantasy just made it even better.
"Amata," I whispered as my breathing returned to normal.
But things still haven't gone past that, and now I'm worried they never will. It's so cold down in the Vault, and I know better than to think that anyone down here will ever face the outside world. I don't want to spend my life down here alone, going home after a long work day to an empty apartment and nobody to share it with.
And I would only want to share it with one person; Amata. Every time I'm alone with her, I feel safe, like all the worries of our tiny world can't hurt me. She's the only one I could ever imagine being with.
But what would she see in me? It's amazing that she likes me enough to be my friend, so why in the hell would she feel anything more? The sad but undeniable truth is that I'm not good enough for her, or for anyone. I'm charmless and boring, and the fact that I'm good with computers is the only reason I have a remotely respectable job in the Vault. But that won't make me happy. Nothing will, except Amata.
Sometimes I curse the bastards from 200 years ago who decided it would be a good idea to start launching nukes at one another, but I can't wish that the war didn't happen, because Amata and I wouldn't have known each other. And a life without Amata is too painful to even think about.