Is It Not

Chapter 3

*Four days later*

"Why are you always here?" he asks glancing over from pushing Ella on the swing.

"Because I like it here?" I reply questionably, gazing over at him lazily. His eyebrows furrow as I look at him.

"What?" He asks annoyed.

"I just don't understand you," I tell him honestly.

"No one does," he mutters looking back down at his sister.

"Why do you-?"

"Why are you so curious?" He asks sharply looking back over at me.

"Sorry, didn't know wanting to know more about someone you see often is illegal," I retort.

"It's not," he replies softly, the tension in his shoulders disappearing.

"I'm not usually a curious person, there's just something about you that intrigues me," I explain.

"Is it because I'm the only person you had a longer than ten second conversation with?"

"Wow, that tough defense mechanism is pretty mean." I see a look of panic flash through his eyes but it is quick as a blink of the eye to disappear, easily missed. It is quickly replaced with a hard look.

"What are you talking about?" He demands.

"It's really quite obvious actually," I admit. I study his reaction to see all the confirmation I need. His hand reaches up to tug on his ear lobe, and I continue. "I know I may not be the person you would most want to talk to but you don't have to hide yourself from me," I assure him, "As much as you may not think so, we aren't that different."

He has a blank expression on his face, and he's either having an intense internal battle or debating whether to run, or both.

I speak up again, "I mean there must be a reason why not a lot of people talk to me and it is not because they think I'm weird." He flinches, and I remember the time he called me that himself.

"Go talk to her man, I bet you won't," his friend taunts him. I'm standing at my locker putting my books into it.

"He wouldn't even if we paid him twenty bucks," his other friend laughs.

I roll my eyes knowing they're talking about me. Everyone always does. Too bad it is never to my face though.

"You guys are so stupid," yet another one of his friend remarks sounding annoyed.

"Does someone have a crush?" They tease.

"No, but she's a sweet person, why does everyone not talk to her?"

"Because she's weird and no one ever talks to her, they say she just pushes them away and it's not worth the effort," Alex replies.

"Yeah and have you seen those bruises she has, everyone thinks she does them to herself," his friend adds.

"I'm sorry for anything my immature self said," he apologizes.

I'm astonished really because everyone used to say he rarely apologized and if he did, you should cherish it. Too bad 'sorry's' are like band-aids. There to cover the wound but it doesn't contribute to your healing.

"Well luckily bruises heal with time, but words stick around a lot longer," I confess standing up and walking away. I don't look back because I know he is watching me, waiting for me to come back and accept his apology with open arms and worship him like everyone else always used to.

But just like how things have changed for him and people keep their distance from the person he has become, things have changed for me; I refuse to let anything or anyone hurt me.

For now at least.