I’m that quiet kid that no one ever notices sitting in the background. Ya’ know what I mean? I sit in the back, I’m silent and I go completely unnoticed and I don’t mind things that way. I’m supposed to be pretty, gorgeous really, but I don’t see it, never have. If I were pretty, I’d get noticed, I’d get asked out. I wouldn’t be home alone on the weekends watching movies and stuffing my face because I have nothing else to do. I’d be partying or something, I’d have a life! I would have friends and hot guys (girls?) hanging out with me. But, I don’t get noticed, I don’t have many friends, I have never even drank a beer or smoked a cigarette (find them disgusting really), and I have never dated anyone. I’m nearly 17 now, and my first kiss is just something I hope will happen sometime in the future. Not that anyone will ever find me attractive enough to even look at twice. I’m too chubby for that. I’m right around 5’7 and about 195 lbs. I’m a fat ass, and I know it. I was born fat, and I will die fat. End of my tragic story.
My black Converse high-tops slap the pavement as I walk into school. We have a small school here in little old fucking Maumee, Ohio. Where the hell is that you ask? Maumee is a suburb of Toledo, Ohio. No, We aren’t ghetto or anything like that. If anything, we’re more the extremely fake preppy people you want to punch in the face because they’re so fake.Aeropostale, Hollister, Abercrombie and Fitch, and American Eagle, surround my senses as I walk in. There are jocks everywhere I look. Male, female, no one cares here. The little group of ‘Goth’ or ‘emo’ or whatever the hell you want to call them are over by the lockers they always hang out at. They’re all stoners. Not my kind of people. So I nod politely at them as I walk by. We have like a little agreement, they don’t bother me, and I don’t talk about the drugs. I don’t really mind. I pass through the area of the hall everyone calls the ‘soccer lockers’. And for good reason. This area of the hall is where the women’s soccer coach wants all of his team to be at so that its easier to post things on their lockers and get them info. The soccer team also seems to be the most popular people at school, hence why there’s almost no way through except a little one-way, one-person squeeze I can barely make. I get through and get over to my locker. Purple lockers, it looks stupider than it sounds. Purple and gold have to be the stupidest school colors ever. They’re tacky and disgusting together. I spin the combo into my lock, 16-22-28, and take my bag off of my back. Its one of those knapsack thingies…the bags that you pull on the straps and they close? Yeah… those are quite popular over here in the middle-of-fucking-nowhere. Almost every guy seems to possess one and use it daily. Mine is nerdier though, it’s a Slytherin bag. (A/N: Harry Potter is an amazing book series, just saying.) Theirs are all Nike and other sports brands. I pull out my notebook and a copy of ‘Clockwork Prince’ by Cassandra Clare and put them in my backpack.
My bag has to be right around 25 or 30 lbs worth of books and papers. I swear I’m going to have back problems when I’m older. I pass through the soccer lockers again and head towards the choir room, which is over by the cafeteria and gym. I see band kids and orchestra kids and choir kids everywhere on my way in. some have instruments, others are acting like complete idiots. I chuckle at some as I walk into the small room. My seat has been moved, just like normal. I find a new one and put it in my spot on the end of the second row in the alto section. I don’t even know why I signed up for choir, can’t sing for shit in my opinion. I guess it’s an easy ‘A’, and its fun to get up on stage and sing my heart out. I plop my big ass onto the chair and pop in my ear buds, drowning out the noise with more acceptable and less annoying noise. My Chemical Romance’s ‘Our Lady Of Sorrows’ comes blaring into my ears and I lose myself in the lyrics.
English flies by without a second thought, as does Math and Chemistry. My last class is art, and there’s some guy sitting in my seat, definitely new, definitely sexy. He’s got slightly wavy black hair down to his shoulders. His big hazel eyes sparkled in a way that no one could resist. He was hot, and he knew it… at least subconsciously. His clothing reflected that. His black skinnies seemed fittied exactly to every curve of his legs and his Iron Maiden tee seemed to be fitted to his every curve also. My feet seemed to not want to cooperate as I walked over and set my books on the table.
