~Ashton's Point of View~
"Good job on that pass to Warner Friday night." Jacob says, patting me on the back. "Thanks." I say, pulling my shirt over my damp hair. "Hey, you want to skip homeroom with the guys and I?" Will asks whispering, so the coaches don't overhear. "Nah. I have a huge test in biology to study for." I say lying. "Your loss." Will says shrugging as we walk out of the locker room.
"She's here!" Jacob says, running back from the front of the school. "I'm going to head to class." I mutter to nobody. I know what's about to happen.
"No. You've never seen this in person. It's epic!" Will says, pulling me in line with the other guys. We line the hallway, standing shoulder to shoulder. When the chorus of moo's start, I know she's close.
She walks quickly by, keeping her gaze on the black and white tiles at her feet. Her black hair falls like a blanket around her face, as if it's trying to protect her from the world. I watch her walk into the same homeroom class we've had together all year.
"Dude, why don't you ever join in?" Jacob says, snapping me back to reality. "Because it's lame, why say moo? Why not something a little more creative?" I ask, trying to play along. "You weren't here when we were freshmen. You should have seen her. She needed a sign that side "Wide Load." Will says laughing.
"I've got to get to class." I say, disguising my anger for boredom. When I walk into class, she is where she always is; in the back of the room. Walking back there, I take the sit that's always empty next to her.
From the corner of my eye I see her look quickly at me, but when I look back at her, she's staring deeply into her book. "What's that?" I ask pointing at her book, trying to make conversation. "A book." she says slowly, as if I'm stupid. "I know that, I meant what book?" I ask, trying again. Instead of answering she lifts up her book, never taking her eyes off of it, and shows me the cover. "The Hunger Games." I say reading it aloud. She gasps, "I'm surprised you can read." she says coldly, still reading. "All right smart-ass. If I wanted someone to be rude to me, I would have talked to my ex-girlfriends." I say getting angry at her.
For once she closes her book and looks at my hazel eyes with her blue ones. "Don't get attitude with me just because I'm not swooning at your feet like those other girls." She says, packing her bag. "Where are you going? Do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help you understand." I ask her sarcastically, as she walks down the aisle. She freezes and then turns back around, facing me. "You will never understand anything about me. Got it?" she says, not even waiting for my response. When she gets to the door she turns around and says, "And you know what? You had an ounce of my respect. But you lost that when I saw you mooing with all those other douches." With that, she walks right out the room, just as everybody else rushes in.
YOU ARE READING
Zero
أدب المراهقينElizabeth Rogers strives to become a model. She believes the only way to do this is to skip a few meals here and there. It's easy enough to do; her parents are constantly at each other's throats, Vanessa, the golden child, has recently been sneaki...
