They Call Me Cold Hearted

Chapter 1

I walk through the dirty halls of the high school and wish I could just leave, but I stay because it is against peaceful law to leave school if you are under the age of 19. Schools have changed. Once, a very long time ago, I could be done with school. Done and finished and never looking back.

I enter my history classroom and slump into the front desk. Lectures were always something I liked, don't ask me why.

People walk in, guys and girls from different groups. I trip a smaller girl so people don't doubt that I am cold hearted. Although I spend a short second of pity for the girl, as she shuffles to pick up her books.

A guy with weird hair helps her and glares at me, I return the glare with a smirk on my face.

Cold hearted, I told you.

I sit through the class, and pretend to be bored, because I know people watch me. Weird but true.

We learn about the early 21st century, the professor calls on me to list off a few major tragedies that occurred in the first decade. I can only think of one.

"The world trade center?" I form it as a question. Professor whatever-his-name-is looks thoroughly surprised that I was actually listening.

I twirl my blonde hair around my finger and chew my gum. Looking bored again.

After class, I bolt out of there for lunch, my favorite class. I'm starved.

I walk into the overcrowded cafeteria and sit down with all the other cold hearted students.

I eat my mushy food and then sit there and listen to a few students conversations. I walk away from the cafeteria in boredom.

Maybe today... I think. I wonder if I could.

I walk into the empty chemistry lab and walk to the boarded window. I peek through the hole to the empty city outside. The theme parks and stuff that have long since been shut down.

Universal studios I think it was called. I look at the rusty rides that used to be recreational. And now everyone just views them as the place that the tragedy of 42 started. I won't go into too much detail.

I turn around as I hear footsteps, and the guy who glared at me earlier walks in. He is an optimist, I think, one of the freaks who is always cheerful and kind.

I walk out as he sits down at a table and pulls out a bunch of books. Then remember that I have chemistry next. I groan and walk past the rickety lockers, back to the lab.

I might like history, but chemistry is stupid. I walk back in and try not to look at the other guy, who looks up at me quickly.

Why did he have to sit so close to where I usually sit? I groan inside.

I sit down quite close to him, and then scoot my stool away. I lay my head down in my arms and close my eyes.

"You tripped that girl for fun." He said. Extrovert, I long to be with them, but then again they get on my nerves. I look up and see him looking at a tray of something. I look at the test tubes in front of me.

"Yeah, so?" I ask, keeping up my composure.

"That was mean. But then again, you're always mean." He said, only looking at me once, out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, I know." I say, rudely. He cocked his head quickly and looked concentrated at his tray.

"Sport thing for all of your group, eh?" He asked, looking at me this time. I eye him cautiously.

"Maybe." I say.

"Or maybe because you feel like you aren't really cold hearted, but have to make people think you are." I stare at him, and don't check myself. My lip twitches, tickling me, because my lip ring is cold. I hate it so much.

"You're not the only one who knows that we aren't the same as our ancestors." He says, staring into my blue eyes.

"Shut up, you're an idiot." I say and leave the room as a group and pessimist girls walk by. Cold hearted people have it the worst, by far the most unpleasant to be around.

I enter the bathroom and slam the door behind me.

Am I that obvious? Or does this dude have some kind of empathetic nature to him? It's a rare thing empathy. Few have it.

The empathetic group is so small, they share a table with the optimists so that they stay cheerful.

Am I sure that this guy is an optimist? He could be empathetic. I groan, hit my head on the door, and then open it.

I walk slowly to the lab and open the door unwillingly.

"Ah, Avery, care to share with the class why you're late?" The professor said cheerfully. He always loves getting students busted or sent to the presidents office.

"No." I say dully and walk to my seat. I don't even look at the guy. And sleep through chemistry.