Carolyn

The New Boy

Chapter 1- The New Boy

All I can see is a blur. All I can taste is this horrible, dry feeling in my mouth. All I can hear is my sobs and cries, yet no one else can. All I feel is self-hate and only self-hate. All I can smell is my breath. Because I am crying. Alone in my bedroom. Because that is all I ever do.

I bare this bullshit called high school, barely getting through each day, every day (apart from the weekend because during the weekend I stay at home with my music- it's my only friend, along with the people who make the music, except they probably wouldn't be my friend if they knew who I was or that I existed). 10th grade (which is Year 11 back in the UK). Couldn't be much worse than 9th grade, could it?

When I walk through the main door, I see this boy, who looked about my age, with ebony hair and sky blue eyes, with this parents. They were talking to Mrs Harrison, the receptionist. She hated me. Well, all the teachers hated me. I soon realise my mouth was gaping and a bit of drool escaped my mouth. Oops. I heard footsteps behind me. Hearing footsteps was never a good thing. Then again, anything to do with school was never a good thing.

"Ooooh, does someone have a cwushy wushy on the new boy?" I heard a boy's voice say. Matthew Jenkins. I recognised each of their voices. And by "them" I mean the bullies. The people who ruin my educational experience. For what? Well, you tell me.

The mysterious black-haired, and let's face it, hot boy turned around to see me and I felt my cheeks warm up and was certain they were as red as a dozen tomatoes. He chuckled softly and in a voice like honey, but not the kind you buy in the shops; it had a rawness to it, but it was soft and deep as well- it was like raw honey, said, "Don't listen to them." Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa...did someone just...defend me?

I smiled an awkward smile back to him and looked at him, as if to say 'thanks'. Matthew walked past us, a sneer on his face. "I'm Andrew, but you can call me Andy," he said in his raw honey voice as he winked. My insides were now all liquid and I couldn't feel anything. "Uh...um...I'm...C-C-Carolyn," I stuttered back awkwardly. He took half a step back when he heard my accent and looked down at me. "Oh, yeah, my accent, I was born and grew up in Wales. We moved here," I paused to count the years on my fingers, "nearly five years ago." He smiled this smile made of white teeth which lit up the room. Maybe 10th grade isn't going to be THAT bad...