There's a nerd named Seana McLoughlin, or Jackie. She's always got her nose in a book or playing an online game. She doesn't have many friends and is bullied a lot.
Then, there is a jock, named Mark Fischbach. He's the point guard on the basketball...
I was just gatherin' a couple of books from my locker tuh' read, since I had a little bit of free time. We used this weird thing called FlexMod schedulin', which meant we had free periods every once and a while. As I was gettin' tha' last one, I was pushed hard, makin' me drop all of my books. I heard the several voices laughin' again... Stupid damned jocks...
"Nice glasses, Irish girl," one laughed. "Good luck finding them."
He snatched them from my face, and I could barely see. I needed my glasses badly, since I'm very nearsighted.
"Give 'em back, John!" I yelled, gettin' mad. "Ya know I need those, dammit!" "Exactly," he chuckled. "C'mon, try and get them."
I stood up, and felt around tuh' try and find my glasses. I was pushed back into tha' lockers. Those stupid jocks kept laughin'. I felt like cryin'. But I couldn't, unless I wanted tuh' get made fun of more. But tha' pain was gettin' tuh' me. I felt a cleat go into my chest, some of tha' spikes rippin' my favorite shirt and cuttin' my chest a little in tha' process. After they kicked and punched me a few more times, they finally left. I searched frantically fer my glasses, but I felt them get placed in my hand. I put them on, only tuh' find another jock in front a' me. This was him:
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"Wait," the guy began. "I was only trying to help." "Oh, yeah?" I replied, tears beginnin' tuh' run down my face. "Since when does a fookin' jock help a nerd like me? All you damned jocks ever do is hurt me!"
I ran away, not wantin' tuh' talk anymore...
(Mark's POV)
What did those damn idiots do this time? They took that poor girl's glasses, threw her books... but what else? She did look bruised. I went to find them and asked what they did.
"Why does it matter to you, Mark?" John asked, laughing. "She's just a stupid nerd." "No, she's a human being, John," I replied angrily. "You KNOW how I feel about this. I don't like to bully anyone or for anyone to be bullied."
He just scoffed and kept talking to his friends. I swear, I've had enough of this. I hated for anyone to be bullied by them, especially a cute girl like her... I went to go look for her again. I found her sitting on the bench, waiting for her parents, I guess. I hope she doesn't push me away this time. So, I sat down, and she looked at me.
"Please, just listen," I began, and she stayed put. "I heard about what happened... I'm so sorry. I've been trying for the last year or so to get them to stop. They won't listen to me. But, are you okay?" "If me bein' bruised, hurt, an' havin' my shirt torn is okay..." "They tore your shirt?" "Yeah... with their cleats." "I'm so sorry. But here."
I rummaged through my bag for an extra shirt she could have. It was just a plain black t-shirt. She did look a little smaller than me.
"I couldn't," she denied. "It's okay." "No, it's not," I replied. "It's really noticeable. Just take it. Besides, they're a dime a dozen. I don't need it anyway."
She took it hesitantly and slipped it over her torn Twenty One Pilots shirt. I thought about getting her a new one. My parents are really wealthy, since they're part of the oil business.
"Thank you," she smiled. "By the way, my name's Mark," I grinned. "I'm Seana (pronounced Shawn-a), but everyone calls me Jackie." "That's cool. Why Jackie, though?" "It's just been a nickname growin' up... Oh! There's my ride."
She hopped up from the bench and walked over to a dark blue SUV. She waved at me before getting in. I waved back... Oh man... What have I just gotten myself into? This girl was hot and I'm already falling for her...
(Jackie's POV)
"So who was that guy ya were talkin' tuh', Seana," my mom asked with a smile. Oh no... here we go. "Just a friend," I replied, tryin' tuh' throw her off. "I know that's not true. I saw him give ya that shirt."
I blushed. She saw that?!
"Really, Mom, I just met him today. He gave me this shirt because my other one got torn." "Torn? How??" "I... was roughhousin' with a friend too much an' ended up tearin' it on a sharp table edge." "...Okay."
Fer the rest of tha' car ride, it was silent. She never asked questions when I gave her a scenario like that. She knew I didn't want tuh' talk about it. But... she was right. I do like that guy. But I could never have a chance with him. A jock and a nerd? That's never happened at this school. It's always been jock with jock, nerd with nerd, or prep with prep. It's always been that way. If anyone were tuh' find out, I'd be bullied even more. I had tuh' keep this a secret...
