I managed to last through everything till English. Truthfully, it hadn't been hard. The teachers acted kindly towards me, leaving me almost alone while the kids tried to stay as far away from me as they could. I guess a screaming girl does that to you. Anyway, that was just what I had always wanted.
And yet, it hurt a bit. It shouldn't have, I know. But it still did. Before, people had told me that I was a freak, and now, they acted like I was one. And that was acting like a heavy anchor on my heart; no matter how many times I told myself not to care, no matter how many times I told myself that this was the solitude I needed, it still hurt. It hurt like a bitch.
In English I sat at my seat- actually I could have sat anywhere, all the other occupants around me miraculously vanished every time. I put my head down on my table, feeling embarrassed and really self conscious. I wished someone would come and sit with me, behind me, anywhere. I just wanted those not-so-secret-whispers to stop, and those impudent glares to go away.
Sometimes wishes do come true.
I heard two heavy thumps on both the left and right side of me. I looked up in surprise- why would anyone sit with me? Not that I didn't want them to. It just didn't seem to ring true. On my left sat Derrick. On my right sat Lois.
I felt a jolt of surprise run through me. What on earth was going on? Lois didn't like me. And she didn't even have this class. Yet there she was, sitting beside me. I wanted to ask her why; wanted to know what was happening. I could understand the reason for Derrick to sit beside me- maybe he felt bad for what he had said to me that day or maybe he was just rescuing me. Again.
But why Lois?
"Staring so hard is supposed to be rude you know," Lois commented, still staring ahead.
"Cut the crap Lois, tell the girl the plan. Our teacher will be here any moment and then you'll be in trouble," Derrick said impatiently from my left, drumming his fingers on the table.
"Let me tell you something, my sweet brother. All teachers love me, and I've never been in any trouble. Unlike someone else in the family," Lois said with a scowl. I didn't get why she let Derrick ruffle her feathers so much. I guess sibling rivalry ran pretty deep."Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever, Miss Congeniality. Just get on with it, will you?" Derrick rolled his eyes.
"You're an ass," Lois stated.
"No, I'm your older brother," Derrick stated back. However, I noticed that his hands were turning into fists.
"Okay, geez twin brother, I'll tell the girl the plan," Lois said, her eyes fixed on his hands as well.I giggled. It was too hilarious to watch them fight like cats and dogs. David and I had an age difference of far too much for there to be any fights. But it seemed fun. And it sure was funny.
They both stared at me for a second before sharing a look and turning away again.
"So little bird, we have a plan for you," Derrick stated. No shit, Sherlock.
"Little bird? Geez, it's not like she's a sparrow or something, you creepo," Lois said to Derrick, looking at him with something akin to amusement. I was surprised myself. I never noticed when Derrick had started calling me that. It just felt like he had done it forever. Maybe he actually had and I hadn't just noticed. How had I not noticed?"Will you just get the hell on with it?" Derrick said through gritted teeth. He sure got worked up over literally nothing. Strange.
"Well Darlene, we- the Wright siblings- wanted to tell you that Derrick is sorry for his actions. He won't say it because he's afraid that he'll mess up this apology somehow and so he's called me. This does not mean that I like you at all, because my friends have told me a lot about you, and I'm pretty sure that I do not approve of this budding friendship between you and my brother.However, as my brother has constantly reminded me before, it is not my duty to interfere in his matters.
But, because we've always got each other's backs, I'll repay you by ensuring-"
YOU ARE READING
Silent
Teen FictionThere are too many thoughts in this world and too less of words to shape them. This isn't in the case of Darlene Francis however, her case is way too different. She simply refuses to speak most of the times. Our scars shape us, and hers have destr...