The Freak with the Notebook

The New Kid

-Harry's P.O.V-

        I walked into the school almost an hour early. I walked down the quiet halls silently, dreading the start of school. I shakily made my way into the fairly large cafeteria, where nobody seemed to be. I was heading for the auditorium, when I heard the soft scratch of graphite on paper. I looked over, and I saw the most beautiful, sitting with her knees to her chest, writing in a small, pink notebook.

        I was worried, but I carefully made my way over to her, and slid down the wall so I was sitting next to her. She didn't look up, just continued writing, muttering a simple 'Hi,' .

        I smiled, "Hey." She looked at me for the first time, a blank stare drawn across her face. "British?" I smiled wider and nodded as she looked back down at her book, continuing to write. "I went once."

        "Really?" I asked happily. It's nice to know there's at least somebody who shares something with you.

        "Mhm," she nodded, before turning to another page in her notebook. It showed a collage of several pictures which showed the royal guard, the London eye, and a multitude of friends. This girl must be popular.

        She flipped her notebook back to the page she had been writing on and continued her work. I smiled, and carefully peered over to see what she was working so hard on. I couldn't read much before she slammed it shut. "Sorry," I mumbled, looking down.

        "Why are you talking to me anyway?" she asked, seemingly innocent. "They'll hate you, ya know. If they see you with me." I furrowed my eyebrows and looked up to her. "Who's they?" I asked. She shrugged, "Everyone?"

        Was she being serious? This girl was beautiful! No way she didn't have friends, let alone a boyfriend! "You're kidding, right?"

        "Nope," she stated, popping the P. I didn't want to be rude, but I finally got up the courage to ask. "Why is that, love?" The love thing just kind of slipped out, but she didnt seem to mind much.

        "I have a mild form of schizophrenia. I'm a freak..." Her voice started to quiver, so I thought I should change the subject.

        "You seem nice," I began, "Maybe we could hang out sometime?" She looked up to me, tears brimming her eyes.

        "You have no idea."

        I bit my lip. "Wh-What do you mean?"

        "You'll be treated just like me. I don't want that for you," and with that, she stood up, and walked away.