In Samantha's Mind

A New Friendship

As the days went by, Sam began to walk to school with me more. Every day was much like the first time. Quiet. We never really had much to say to each other. I assumed that it's probably because we didn't have much in common, but now that I knew who Sam was, I realized that I saw her more around school. Obviously, I never had the courage to go up to her and just talk to her. I didn't want to come off as a creep.

As I walked towards my Economics class one day, I noticed that Sam was walking the same way that I do. She was walking just a little bit ahead of me. She had her ear buds plugged in, and even in this hallway full of people, she looked alone. The people around her were all interacting with each other, laughing, giggling, talking. When I looked at Sam, all of that became a blur, becoming a cloud of seclusion.

I began to think why I hadn't noticed her before. She stuck out like a sore thumb, especially with her red hair. Not a lot people dyed their hair in unnatural colors like that. Those who did were easily spotted. I tried to catch up to her, and maybe walk with her to class in silence kind of like our treks to school. Mainly, so she wouldn't seem so lonely, but also because I wanted to be next to her. It was true that she was intriguing, but I'm pretty sure it's because I don't know anything about her. Before I could catch up to her, a guy who was standing against the wall, yelled out to her as she walked past him.

It was Bradley Collins. He's our football team's quarterback. Tall, strong, and blonde, desired by most girls. Stereotypical, popular boy, in other words. Obviously, all that fame made him an arrogant prick. I used to talk to him when I was younger. We were both on soccer teams. He was on the opposing team, but our teams would share the field for practices. Our coaches said it would help with good sportsmanship.

I wasn't very fond of sports, but my dad thought it would help me become stronger. I was actually pretty small at that age. Not as small as Jenny was, but around the other boys I was relatively shorter and scrawny. Because of that I was always the subject of ridicule at the soccer practices. Bradley would usually start it. Arrogant back then, and arrogant now. He was very good at sports and really enjoyed rubbing it in the face of the other boys. Bradley especially loved pointing out how small I was to the rest of the boys. No one had seemed to have taken note of it until Bradley pointed it out. The guys would call me shorty or tiny. I wasn't that small, but it made the boys laugh to call me that.

It was no big deal to me. It didn't really bother me anyway. Even if it did, I learned from my mom and dad that others' opinion of me didn't matter as much as my opinion towards myself. As long as I had confidence in myself, nothing anyone could say to me could hurt me. It was true. I was taller than him now anyways, so it didn't matter in the long run.

"Hey, Sam," Bradley said.

I watched Sam to see what she would do. I wouldn't have been surprised if she stopped to talk to him, since most girls would anyways. I would have been disappointed in reality, since I don't really see her as the type to do such a thing. She just kept walking and completely ignored him.

"Hey!" he yelled, as he grabbed her by the arm.

Sam stopped walking. She didn't say anything or do anything. She just stood there. At this point, most of the students in the hall were silently watching them, including myself.

"Just here me out," Bradley said, letting go of Sam's arm. Sam turned towards Bradley. She took out her earbuds and stared at Bradley with a confused expression on her face. We all waited for what would occur next. "Homecoming is coming up, and I have decided that you are going to be my date."

Sam didn't say anything. She continued to stare at him, but suddenly, burst into a fit of laughter.

"As if," she said, walking away. Bradley immediately ran up from behind her and grabbed her. I ran towards them to maybe get Bradley off of her, but in an instant, Bradley was on the ground, writhing in pain. Sam had stomped on his foot and punched him hard in the face in a matter of seconds. I was a bit stunned, but it made Sam seem like some kind of ninja.