Texting.

Prolouge

MIRA

*last year*

I walk down the hallways with my head buried in my favorite book, trying to avoid all eyes in the hall. With my school stuff in one hand, the book in the other, I walk as fast as I can, occasionally looking up so I don't run into anyone.

I look back at the words for one second, and bam! I'm on the floor, my papers scattered around me, my book has flown half way across the hallway and I am face to face with Adam Workman.

Oh god he is gorgeous.

"I-I'm s-sorry." I stutter. I'm not very social.

"Don't worry about it." He smirks. "It was my fault." I give him a small smile as he stands up and offers me his hand. I take it and let him hoist my frail body up off the ground. "Sorry about your book." He says as he picks it up. The cover is bent.

"It's okay." Whoo, I didn't stutter.

"I could get you a new-" he is cut off by the music in the hallway, signaling one minute left to get to class. "Shit, one more late class and I'm suspended from tomorrow's game." He rushes.

"Go." I tell him. "I got it, it's fine."

"Thanks..."

"Mira." I smile lightly, even though the absence of my name in his memory is enough to make me cry.

"Thanks Mira." He grins and starts to jog down the hallways to his next class. I pick up all my scattered papers and my newly bent book.

I sigh and start walking down to language arts and end up being late. I'm on good terms with the teacher though so I know that she didn't mark my name down when she smiled at my entrance.

I can't think about the subject of the class I am in. All I can think about is Adam and the fact that he didn't know my name. No one knows my name. I guess it's pretty typical for someone like me to go unnoticed, but not when you have lived on the same street since you were children. Why didn't he know me? I have known Adam since I was no older than three. It's not that hard to learn a name.

"Mira, care to share your starter with us?"

"Who's Mira?" Someone in the back asks. I sigh and read aloud.

When the class ended, I went to the bathroom. No, I'm not going to check my hair or reapply some lip gloss. But someone else was.

Claire. Adams girlfriend.

"I saw you with Adam today." She says when I walk in, scaring me. "I want you and your fat ass to stay away from him. He is mine, got that?"

"I-"

"I don't need an explanation." She spits. "I need you to stay the hell away from my boyfriend."

This is normal. I guess you could say. She moved here in seventh grade and has never liked me. She glares at me in the halls, trips me on the bus. Whatever she can do to show that she dislikes me, she will.

"You never stand a chance." She places her hands on my shoulders and turns me towards the mirror. "Look at you." she looks at me in the mirror, "now look at me." She takes the time to admire herself, which makes me want to roll my eyes. "He would never choose you. You compared to me? Please." She scoffs and walks out of the bathroom, with one last look back she says, "you're ugly, fat, and worthless. Just go do the world a favor and kill yourself."

And she left. Just like that. With a smirk on her face and a sway to her step. I looked at myself in the mirror, my boobs were big and my thighs were a bit bulky. It was then that I actually looked at myself. My eyes look tired and my cheeks are always red. My eyebrows are weirdly shaped and my hair is an ugly shade of brown. I am ugly. I am fat. No one knows my name. I'm not memorable. I'm worthless. No one will ever take the time to learn my name, so why even give them a chance?

I left school right after that. Ignoring the teacher that called my name over and over again. Ignoring the traffic signals and most of all, the tears in my eyes.

This had been going on for too long and I am going to put a stop to it. I will be happier. I park crooked in my driveway and head straight to the medicine cabinet. My mom is at work, and I feel terrible that it has to be her, who is going to find my body lying on the floor.

I take all the pills in the bottle, it was a little over half if it. It shouldn't take long, but as soon as I swallowed the last one my mother walked in.

"What are you doing home- Mira?!" She sees the now empty bottle in my hands and runs towards me. Apparently she wasn't at work.

"Please!" I sob. "Please."

---

White. White walls, white sheets, equipment. That is how you describe a hospital. White. Everywhere. And let me tell you it was not good for a pounding headache.

My mom is sleeping in the chair next to my bed and a nurse is reading my chart.

I find it a huge disappointment that I'm here, I would much rather be up in heaven, with the dog we had to put down a few years ago. Honestly. This world is not meant for me.

Every one came to the hospital. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, family friends. I didn't like it. They had never payed attention to me before today, and because I almost die, now in the center of attention? No thanks.

People. They suck. Really. They are the reason I tried. They are the reason for my strange behavior. They make me feel worthless. Fat.

So, I found it easier to stay home. Isolated. Away from the people that made me feel that way. Away from the childhood that haunted me.

My mom thought that maybe a fresh start would be nice, so we packed up.

That was the last time I saw Adam. He was out in his front yard an I was helping my mom put boxes in the moving truck. We made eye contact, and then I left.

I found it much easier not to fall for anyone like I fell for him. Unless your name is William Rivers. Will is the most gorgeous actor I have ever seen. I have watched every single movie, behind the scenes, funny moments. Everything. I have seen everything of him.

It's easier to love him. Why? Because he doesn't know me. Because he can't tell me I'm worthless. He can't say the things to me that everyone else has said when my relationship with him lives purely in my head. It's easier to love someone who doesn't know you, when you're like me.

It's easier. And it hurts less.

But if I'm away from the people who made me feel this bad, why do I still feel it? I should be out making friends, having fun. Being a normal teenager.

Why do I still feel it?

Why can't I get Claire's words out of my head?

Because it's true, and I know it. That's why.