Bullied.

Chapter 5

Reading was boring. It doesn’t help that my teacher is like, ninety-five. I don’t have Kai or Kayla in my class so it was very boring. We just read Pretty Women, which I read in eighth grade, then discussed the few pages we made it to. I rarely paid attention, since I had already read it, and I got bored really easily. I thought about what Kai said earlier. He is sending weird signals. He says we need to talk, then says he doesn’t want to lose me. I’m not good at this whole dating thing, since Kai is my first and only boyfriend, so I have no idea what he means with all this. I was pulled out of my thoughts, with the bell, at students shuffling to their next class. I grab my stuff and go to my locker where I was met by Kayla.

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe that you said that to Kai!”

“Well hi to you, too.” I say sarcastically.

“Hi. His face when he told me was priceless. When did you become so brave?”

“I don't know. I guess I decided to try something.” I say, locking my locker. “What did you say in response?”

“I said, and I quote, yeah and the grass is green anymore earth shattering news?” I burst out laughing.

“He is going to hate us!”

“His loss.” She shrugs her shoulders and we laugh more. “I have to get to class. Dylan is waiting for me.”

“Really? He is going to be seen in public with you?”

“Shut up! I told you, he has changed.”

“Whatever. See you after school.”

“Bye!” She waves to me as I head to my final class of the day. Art. I love art, and it ends the day on a good note. Or it would, if Jenna wasn’t in my class. She is the queen B of the school. She is one of the people who started to cast me as the ‘loser. We have never got along. We are just so different it’s impossible. I’m surprised that she likes something as delicate as art. Art is warm, and Jenna is just… cold.

I am surprisingly one of the first people in the class so almost all the easels are open. I sit in the middle, because its easy to see the teacher and the art, while not having attention focused on me. I take a smock from the hooks in the left corner of the room and replace it with my bag. I head back to my seat, put my hair up and tie my smock behind my neck. I always put my hair up because once I didn’t and I had to scrub paint out of my long hair for hours. I set up my station to how I like it, and I hear someone sit next to me. I expected this, I mean I was sitting in the middle. The person who chose to sit next to me surprised me. It was Jenna. Yes, the Jenna I just described who, hated every part of me. I have a feeling that this class hour, isn’t going to be as fun as I hope it would be.

“Hi!” Jenna says as she ties her smock.

“HI?” It was more of a question then a response. What the hell is she doing?! She can’t just pretend that she hasn’t hated me my whole life and that she hasn’t made my life a living nightmare.

“I really like your story this morning. You are a great author.” She beams at me. What? Now she is trying to be nice.

“Thanks. I’m sure yours was good, too.” I say trying to be nice. It takes physical effort to say it though.

“Thanks. Mr. Legusy is right though. Your stories are amazing. I didn’t mean what I said this morning. I was just jealous that your story was better than mine. You are good at other things, too! I saw some of your paintings throughout the year, and they are amazing.”

“Um… Thanks. It was no big deal, this morning. I barely noticed it. I mean being made fun of my whole life, I’m just used to it.” I try to make her feel bad. She has done some really mean things over the years, and she should feel bad. I see her look down. I think she might be embarrassed. Ashamed even. But I don’t trust it one bit because I have seen her fake through emotions like it’s her job.