Walking into school after that damn party… It was the worst and best day of my life. It was the worst day because everyone hated me. Including my own twin brother, Harry. What can I say? I was tired of my little brother always getting everything so easily. But that doesn’t justify what I did.
It was the best day because it was the day I met her.
I had managed to make it through the first half of school only getting angry glares from people but when I got to lunch, things just kind of went downhill. I tried sitting down at my usual table but my chair was ripped out from under me. “Hey, Mar-slut, what makes you think you can sit here?” One of Harry’s friends bark at me and the whole table erupts in laughter. I just look down at the ground and go to an empty table and sit down.
And there I sit, eating the horrible school lunch, occasionally adjusting my glasses. I kind of wanted to cry but I’m a senior boy, I would only get made fun of more. The worst part was I could feel his glare. I didn’t need to turn around to know that Harry was looking at me with just as much hatred as he stared at me that night. I tried to apologize, but he wouldn’t listen to me.
Before I knew it, I could feel my eyes misting up, so I quickly rubbed them with my eyes in a way that made it look like I had just gotten something in it.
When I was finished rubbing I jumped in shock at a girl sitting across from me, eating what looked like a tuna sandwich. I had never seen this girl before, ever. And trust me, I would remember if I’d seen this girl before. She had very dark hair and olive skin, maybe she was italian? Her eyes were brown and were wide, a bit like a deer caught in the headlights, but curved up just the tiniest bit in the corners, maybe she wasn’t Italian. I couldn’t quite tell. But she was beautiful. Her eyes were framed by dark thick lashes and eyeliner brought up into a cats eye. She had on just the tiniest bit of nude colored lip gloss. She appeared to be short in stature and very petite. Her dark, wavy hair was tied back into a ponytail with a yankees baseball cap over top of it, her ears sticking out just the tiniest bit.
She was wearing a white tank top, a black leather jacket and dark blue skinny jeans. I knew she was wearing a pair of white converse because she had her feet up on the table, like she was right at home.
“Umm…” I blink at her and she just continues to munch on her sandwich, her eyes focused her phone, which is in her free hand. She’s tapping wildly. “C-Can I help you?” I stutter a bit as I’m nervous that she’s here to be rude to me in some way.
She looks up as if just realizing that I was there and then looks down at her phone again, when her face distorts in anger, “Damn it, you made me screw up on Flappy Bird! I was about to beat my high score!” The girl groans, shoving her phone angrily into her pocket.
“Sorry?” It comes out more of a question because what the hell is a ‘Flappy Bird’?
The strange girl, who I could clearly tell was american now, as if the baseball cap wasn’t enough before, sets her tuna sandwich down before staring at me, “Why are you looking at me like that?” She asks.
I’m staring at her? Yeah, I guess I am. But she’s just so odd. “Uh, like what?”
