There's Something About Her

Chapter 3

Sabrina's P.O.V

After study hall I walk toward my Biology class, where the seats are unarranged. As I spot a place in the corner of the very last row, I see that more students walk in straggling trying find a seat somewhere, as I'm scanning the room for any familiar faces, my eyes suddenly stop and my stomach feels a bit queasy as if butterflies were inside, there she is, her basketball cap now gone, blonde hair flowing around her shoulders our eyes meet and almost as if she had me under a magic spell I couldn't look away.

That is, until the teacher came in and broke the connection. the teacher came in and assigned the stragglers to seats.
The teacher wrote his name up on the board and turned to face the class " All right, My name is Mr. Johnson, since this is a writing class, today I want you to write about anything that you feel like you want to get out spread a message it can be anything from politics to theft. but first I will have to turn this attendance sheet if I want to get paid." he waved a sheet of paper then started to read names off the sheet. 
"John Floyd?"

 
"Here" he said

 
"Coolio"

"Kayla Good?"

 
"Here" said a girl at the end of my row

I was facing the back off the blonde girls head only half listening to my name. 

"Emma Davis?" 

The girl's hand shot up in the air and said, "Its Emma"

Mr. Johnson looked down at his sheet and wrote something next to it.

"Sabrina Vader?" 

A couple of heads swiveled around to look in my direction. I blinked and said
"Here" then added in a mutter "Apparently not entirely here."

Mr. Johnson said " Well, thanks Sabrina, we still have some time left before class ends. You think you can share some of what you want to talk about? If that's ok with you?"

"Sure. Mr. Johnson I'd love too."

"Okay then, folks, let's give all our attention to Sabrina and what she has to say"

"Okay, well, I wanted to speak up about LGBTQ+ rights and what we can do to improve this situation. You see, kids have been getting kicked out of their homes for being who they are, they either get slashed tires, jumped on their way home from school by gangs, get kicked out by their parents and/or face challenges across their way to become who they are today."

 
I looked at Emma and she looked back and smiled paid more attention to what I was saying. I smiled and continued to speak:

"As I walk down these halls or down my neighborhood, I see kids who I know that are out on the streets, me wishing I could help but not knowing how too. Some questions still bother me such as: Why do some people hate on the LGBTQ+ community if we didn't do anything to deserve this much hate?
What have we done to our families or friends that we get to be treated like this? Is this God's reward for coming out to our friends? To our families? What has the world turned from peaceful to hatred?"
As I returned to my seat at the back of the row next to the window I could feel the stares of my classmates burning, slicing through me. Emma's eyes meet mine and I saw her eyes twinkle she looked up and broke into a grin that made my insides flutter uncontrollably.