That’s the new girl, they whisper, what a loser. Their murmurs blow around the room like bubbles, popping secrets and then vanishing.
I square my jawYou square your jaw? What the heck? I don't know what that means.
An aisle split’s the classroom into two sides, and the desks into two rows.
Sitting in the front areyourthe typical teacher’s pets: students with perfect postures and textbooks opened wide to follow along with the instructor.
What are you doing here? Their stares are empty, like their words.
“Can I sit here?” I swallow hard. The boy keeps smacking his gum and throws his feet on the bench.
“There’s no room for you here,” a girl in the back row points out with a wry smile.
“I know,” I mutter, hands clenched at my sides.
“Excuse me?” Her eyebrow pokes up. I let out a rough sigh.
“I said I know.” Her face tightens.
“Don’t you dare talk like that to me,” she snaps. “Do you think any of us want a tramp like you at our school?”
She turns to the boy with an elbow propped up sitting next to her. I didn’t notice him earlier, but now that I look at him, I’m nearly breathless. His ice blue eyes are serious and unsettlingly familiar, one shade lighter than the other girl’s. He brushes a strand of hair, a pale blond color, out of his face and I can see the several silver cuffs and piercings on his ear.
“Yes, commander,” she sputters
Invisibility, invisibility, I plead.
“Will you move over?” There’s no point in being polite anymore, not when all of your classmates are assholes forcing you to ask permission to sit in the corner with the class loser and no one else.
“Do I have to?” The boy groans, his exhale fogging up the thick black glasses he’s thumbing. He looks like a dorkier version of Harry Potter with the white tap wrapped around the nose and his mousy hair.
“This seat’s warm,” I squeal, but no one cares. They continue chucking crumpled pieces of paper at my head, cackling at their exceptional aim.
I saw her grinding on Drew this morning, more muttering, just because she’s new she thinks she can hog all the attention. What a whore! I bury my face in my bag, eyes burning with tears.
The class snickers, their narrowed eyes spearing my back. That’s the new girl, they whisper, what a loser. Their murmurs blow around the room like bubbles, popping secrets and then vanishing.
I square my jaw and suppress the urge the return a witty comment. Nodding, I walk to the back. An aisle split’s the classroom into two sides, and the desks in two rows. Sitting in the front are your typical teacher’s pets: students with perfect postures and textbooks opened wide to follow along with the instructor. As I pass, their focus slips from their notes and onto me.
What are you doing here? Their stares are empty like their words. I meet the last three rows and pause.
“Taken.” His bubble bursts and he sucks it back into his mouth. The people around him shuffle their belongings, tossing whatever’s available on the leftover spots.
“Don’t you dare talk like that to me,” she snaps. “Do you think any of us want a tramp like you at our school?”
“Shut up.”
“I told you to…” She freezes, realizing I wasn’t the one who spoke. “Kaleb?”
She turns to the boy with an elbow propped up sitting next to her. I didn’t notice him earlier, but now that I look at him, I’m nearly breathless. His ice blue eyes are serious and unsettlingly familiar, one shade lighter than the other girl’s. He brushes a strand of hair, a pale blond color, out of his face and I can see the several silver cuffs and piercings on his ear.
“Will you move over?” There’s no point in being polite anymore, not when all of your classmates are assholes forcing you to ask permission to sit in the corner with the class loser and no one else.
I burn his edges to a crisp with my glare until he finally scoots over and mumbles why does the loser have to sit with me? Hearing this is like a slap in the face from irony, but I take the seat anyway, trying to keep my distance from Harry Potter.
“This seat’s warm,” I squeal, but no one cares. They continue chucking crumpled pieces of paper at my head, cackling at their exceptional aim.
I saw her grinding on Drew this morning, more muttering, just because she’s new she thinks she can hog all the attention. What a whore! I bury my face in my bag, eyes burning with tears.