Leigh's Lifesaver

Chapter one

BLURB: As much as I'd like to tell you about my whole 'encounter' with the person who shifted my life as a whole, I'll tell you one thing- he was by lifesaver. My lifeguard. I was woken up from a form of a dream nearly impossible to overcome, and he helped me. And I'll never forget it.

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"Yeah, that's Leigh. You don't want to talk to her. She's awful."

A group of girls grimaced as they walked past me in gym, gossiping about the latest fashion articles or something along those lines.

The typical atmosphere around Arislynn High School was dull and boring, full of sweaty students practically dying to go to lunch with their friends. I guess that wasn't a plus for me.

Most people believe that I'm just numb person, oblivious to everything and anything anyone just waves in my face. And maybe I've gotten so used to the feeling of left alone, I truly am numb. Or that's just what I think.

The other students talk as if they have absolutely perfect lives, and they simply think that, if people's feelings are absolutely positive towards you, that's all you need.

But I don't think that way.

For example, take my life in your hands. Getting pushed around, ignored, treated like a piece of dust on the floor. Stereotypes could actually be harsher towards me, but only to a certain point where I finally break.

Very metaphorically, I like to think it like this way, no matter how silly it sounds; two people are stranded uncomfortably on a small island. Suddenly, a bunk bed appears in the middle of the island. The taller man of the two claims the upper bunk and the shorter man has no choice but to climb on the bottom, reluctantly falling asleep, still wanting the higher bunk.

The taller man feels stubbornly proud of himself for earning his wanted choice, no traces of humbleness in his mind. The shorter man, however, is wise and believes everything happens for a cause. Although he did not have his wish granted, he knows that it never had to be. As long as he was with himself and had a certain state of mind that he was purely himself and himself only, that was what he really needed.

As for me, I'm sure you think that I'm very popular, with my friend count being zero and all. But I'm sure I can be that man on the lower bunk, the wise one who believes that something will come, gold or copper.

My grades at school are perfectly average, not particularly high or low. As for all the stereotypes, I have no clue what triggered them.

When the clock ticks 11:45, the bell rings alarmingly loud and in about ten seconds the school hallway to the cafeteria is literally clogged. The other students in my gym period smell like sweat masked in cheap deodorant and perfume, a sign that majority of the kids didn't bother to visit the showers. But they move to the food anyway, some kids waiting for friends or their eyes glued to their phones.

The horrifying school lunch was claimed to be lasagna and macaroni, and it appeared as if hundreds of miniscule hairs were plastered onto the surface of the inedible food, causing others to gag. I look at my own phone, checking to see what time it was. The bright screen read "11:58"; just in time to ask my brother to pick me up off campus. A few minutes later, an overly shined silver car pull up, alerting me.

"Hey, Leigh."

"Luke," I open the car door and make myself comfortable in my brother's car. Luke sniffs, turning on the radio to a horrendously high-pitched song.

My sibling and I share most of the same features; blond hair, a short nose, and green eyes the color of a green stoplight.

"So how was the awful lunch? Hair scare you away?"