The Wallflower of Parkview High

Chapter Twenty Eight

From the time that Dad had missed my thirteenth birthday because he was had a late shift at the hospital out of his control to when Charlotte spilled her Coca Cola all over my drawing (it was by accident she oh so casually said), and even the time that my old 7th grade friend John had teased me for my "girly backpack" (it was a sky blue one that had a white puffball keychain attached to it), I have felt angry and sad towards people before.

That was pretty obvious considering that all people feel that way quite a lot of times throughout their life.

However, at this very moment, I've never felt this angry at a person before throughout my entire fifteen years of existence on this planet . It was like I had a gallon (or make that a dozen gallons) of pent up anger inside my stomach waiting to be released and then unleashed on Zander. I was so angry with him in fact, that it took all of my willpower not to walk over to him and slap him across the face and even that was coming from a person who avoids any type of violence at all costs.

This morning when I got to school, I immediately made a beeline towards the library. Glancing through the see-through door, I saw that there were a few small groups of people sitting at the tables, typing on their computers, reading books or just messing around. Usually this alone would scare me away but right now I didn't really care. At this point, I would do anything to not see Zander's face anymore, even if it meant avoiding my usual spot on the bench and walking inside the library that had groups of people in it. I just felt that the library would be sort of a safe place for me. That and I doubt that Zander would set foot in a library unless he was forced to.

The second I opened the door to the library, a few faces turned to look at me with looks that almost said that they recognized me from somewhere - possibly from all that drama between me and Zander since any argument, hookup, or debacle spread like wildfire at this school. A bit of red dotted my cheeks and I quickly glanced around for a place to sit. Sure enough, I spotted a beanbag chair nestled in between two bookshelves, a little bit of distance from it and the numerous tables. Even better, there was no one sitting in it. I instantly walked over and plonked myself down on the beanbag chair, setting my backpack down next to me. Not knowing what to do next, I just sat there, staring up at the ceiling.

Eventually though, my plan of doing nothing failed and I found myself digging through my backpack looking for something to do. After a minute of digging, I found the sketchbook that Zander had given me. I immediately took it out of my backpack and stared at it.

If this was one day ago, I would've fanboyed just over the sight of this sketchbook and the fact that Zander spent his money on such a good sketchbook for me of all people. I probably would've also admired it daily, every second of the day like a crazed person.

However, just looking at it now made that pent up anger that I've felt inside of me earlier return, more worse than ever and it took all of my strength not to rip up the sketchbook and throw it in the trash. Every time I glanced at it, it would remind me of him and then my thoughts would go to what he had done to me.

Why was Zander being like this? Why had he laughed about my crush on a boy that didn't even exist? It was as if he was back to his old ways again, laughing at me, mocking me, and being an overall douche bag. But this time it wasn't about my horrible athletic abilities, it was about something way worse than that.

Thinking about all of this made me think about how he acted with me yesterday when we were running together. He had seemed so cheerful and easygoing, a huge difference from how he was the last time we ran in the park. Hell, he talked to me like I was his friend, not some weak pansy that had started attending the school almost a month ago. He even managed to not make fun of my slow running abilities, instead sticking to my side and walking to match up with my pace. He also laughed around my presence - and not a mocking one either, but a genuinely happy one. Oh and the time he had asked about my so-called "crush".