She held her textbooks close to her chest as she walked through the halls. Her purple polka-dotted book bag was proudly perched high on her back, both arms in the straps that were pulled as tight as they could be.
The purple sundress she wore moved gracefully with her steps, and matched perfectly with her little purple ballerina flats. In her blonde hair, she wore a small, white bow to keep stray strands out of her face.
Around her, students snickered. They pointed, laughed, and whispered to each other, and just like every day, she kept walking.
She walked past the girls who looked at her as they talked amongst themselves. She walked past the boys who gave her funny looks, and past the ones who called out the name the school knew her by.
She ignored them as they yelled, "Purple! HEY! Purple!" And the stupid girls giggled.
She just walked straight to the locker she'd been heading for.
Grant leaned against the locker, one hand deep in his pocket, the other waving around as he talked to a couple of friends. His friends were rather large, especially when compared to her thin, petite frame. Unlike them he was thin and tall, with blonde hair and bright green eyes.
She wove through the crowd and silently slipped into the group.
She waited for a pause in their conversation and when it came she sweetly said, "Grant, you didn't answer my calls last night."
Grant and his two friends looked at her. She saw his cheeks turn red as his friends chuckled together.
"Well, Grant," one of them said, "I see you have something to take care of. Talk to you later."
"I'll see you in fifth, bud. Bye, Purple," the other snickered, walking away after the first one.
"Bye," she replied.
Grant sighed and angrily pushed himself off the wall of lockers. He snatched his black book bag off the floor and swung it over his shoulder. He turned his back on her and walked away.
A little confused, she watched him walk for a few seconds. Then she secured a hold on her books and rushed after him. She was nearly running, trying to catch up to his fast pace on her short legs.
"Grant!" she called after him. "Grant!"
He turned a couple corners in the crowded building until they reached a small, empty hallway all the way in the back.
"Grant!" she called one last time.
"What?" he asked, raising his voice. He spun around, voice dripping with annoyance.
"You didn't answer my calls last night," she said.
"I heard you the first time," he snapped.
"I know, but we need to work on our project. It's due tomorrow and you haven't helped me with it."
"Okay, what do you want me to do?"
"The current events, and could you e-mail it to me so I can finish the poster?"
"Fine. Now leave me alone!"
"Why?" she questioned, clueless.
"Wow," he said. "You don't see it do you?"
"See what?"
"Everything! C'mon, Purple, have you ever noticed that people make fun of you?"
"Yes," she nodded. "They call me Purple because I'm always wearing purple."
"Doesn't that make you upset?"
She shook her head. "No."
He looked at her disbelievingly. "Is it possible for you to be normal! Do you ever want to get a boyfriend? Do you want to have friends? Do you want to be talked to?"
YOU ARE READING
Purple
Short StoryThey call her names, whisper hateful things behind her back, and laugh to her face. All because she's a little different, but does she care? No. Not until she learns that the one person she wants on her side isn't.