|| Spring 2003||
Alexandria Fleming:
It’s weird that I ended up with the locker next to Zayn’s. It’s weird that I even have a locker. We’re already well into the second semester and I am still not used to it. And yes, by well in, I mean today is the last day of school. At my old school, we didn’t have lockers because there weren’t enough of them for every student in the school. But here, I do have a locker, and apparently, this one is mine until my very last day of attending this school, which for some reason is until Year Eight. It will definitely be a while before I get used to the school system here.
I haven’t spoken to Zayn in the entire school year. We pretty much avoided one another as much as possible. I’ve only spoken to him when it was entirely necessary, and if I had no other choice because my parents practically forced me to. They thought we would be best friends. Like, I don’t think they understand how much he doesn’t like me.
Doniya is a really cool person, she is. I just feel like she only acknowledges me as a friend when we’re at home, or with our parents; other than that, it’s like she doesn’t know me. At school, she’ll smile towards my general area, but she won’t say hi, unless I do it first. It’s fine though, I get it. Her friends probably think I’m strange, cause to be honest, I kind of am. I kind of really like video games, and they obviously think video games are for boys.
The girls my age are all about learning to do their makeup and fixing their hair and whatnot. I’m not. The boys my age are all about playing games, but they don’t invite me in because I’m a girl; and a girl couldn’t possibly know how to play a video game correctly. When they let me play with them, they do it so they can make fun of me for not playing the way it is meant to be played. And when I start winning, or getting close to beating them, they think I’m cheating.
The only thing people like about me is my voice, and that’s just because of my American accent. Apparently, people in England are obsessed with it. I don’t really see why, it’s just an accent. What’s so great about an accent?
After my last class period, I walked over towards my locker to collect my belongings before heading home. My mom told me that I should always wait there for Zayn and Doniya to be done with all of their after school activities so that I can walk with them and avoid getting lost, but I never really do. For one, Doniya isn’t done until after four; and well, there’s a lot I can do in that hour. And two, I don’t want to walk with Zayn. Anything that had to do with Zayn, I didn’t want to do, because he was always saying rude things; and sooner or later, I would probably do something that would get me into trouble.
As I was walking towards my locker, I saw some of the boys from my math class going in the same direction, but with a greater speed than I was. I thought it was strange, but I ignored them. I thought that maybe they needed to get outside quickly, because their ride was here or something.
Turns out, I was gravely mistaken.
“Oi, Zayn,” I heard James, the biggest of the three boys, say before I heard something slamming against the lockers.
Oh god, what’s happening? Should I go over there and check? Should I go call somebody? I don’t know what to do; and honestly, I’m too scared to even look around the corner. I’ve heard countless times that these boys can either make or break you at this school, well in our year, at least.
I’m just going to go over there, and see what the hell they are doing. And I’m going to stop them.
“James, what the hell are you guys doing?”
“Alexandria, this has nothing to do with you; so how about you just pick up your things and walk away?” James said to me while the other two kept Zayn down on the floor.
