The Devil Child

Chapter Seven

 Polly sat in class, back rigid and face flaming. Everyone was staring at her, and she didn't like it. She didn't like the thought that someone knew she was gay. She didn't like the thought that they could read it on her face and see it on her clothes and just know.

And, of course they couldn't, but Polly felt like they could. Polly felt like they knew right away that she liked girls in the wrong way. She wanted people to stop looking at her. She wanted people to stop judging her.

Of course, there was no sign of the girl named Kenzie, and of course, there were already rumors going around, thanks to Jenny. Polly felt like a freak, and it was only her first day.

She tried to focus on the teacher, but that was proving difficult. She was in history class, and she couldn't care less about what was being said. She would much rather sleep for eternity than sit in this class.

Someone tapped her on her shoulder, and she turned her head. She took in the sight of the boy behind her, his black hair pulled back into a man bun and his eyes hidden behind black frames, and didn't know what to say or why he would tap her shoulder in the middle of class.

"Will you hand this to the kid in front of you?" Polly felt a note being stuffed into her hand, and she blinked for a moment, not saying anything. Then, she creased her brow. "Why should I?"

The boy just looked at her. "It's important."

She didn't want to deal with this, so she rolled her eyes and tapped the boy in front of her. When he turned back, she handed him the crumpled up note.

She was annoyed. Not that she liked this class, but she was never one for passing notes in class. Plus, she found it so unbelievably trivial. Why would anyone pass notes these days when they had a cell phone?

She blew out a sigh and closed her eyes. Only, she couldn't for very long without seeing past memories she didn't want to relive. The past haunted her like the plague, and she would do anything to rid herself of those memories. Anything. She honestly played with the idea of going to a doctor to find a way to get rid of the memories. And if that meant severing something in her brain to make her forget, she gladly would.

She hated her life. She hated everything about it.

At the end of her first day, Polly felt tired and worn out. She felt incredibly annoyed at everyone and everything. She wanted so badly to go home and dive under her blankets where she could sob into her pillows and dream of ways to forget everything.

She pulled her backpack tighter to her body, beginning her walk home. Her body felt tense, and she longed to release all the pent up anger and frustration. She longed to find her parents so she could yell at them. She longed to find Doctor Higgins so she could punch him, straight in the face.

She felt something bump into her from her right, and she tettered over, crashing to the concrete of the sidewalk ungracefully. She brushed her bangs out of her face, ready to tell off whoever had shoved her, when she caught sight of the boy from her history class. Even more upset now that she saw him, she opened her mouth to yell.

The boy offered his hand with a sheepish smile. "Didn't see you there, sorry."

She was silenced by his apology, and she just stared at his hand like it was repulsing to even think of touching his hand. He awkwardly retracted it, but still smiled.

"You're in my history class, right?" He offered as Polly stood up on her own. She looked at her reflection in his sunglasses, irritated that she couldn't see his eyes, like she couldn't when they were in class.

"Yeah, I am." She added, almost hostile. She brushed the dirt from her jeans, and then picked up her backpack. "Also, I don't want to pass anymore notes. Find a different way to communicate with your friend."