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The next couple of days consisted of the usual long school days and appointments and a surprise hint of Michael Clifford.

Except today the atmosphere felt a bit different like the heavy air you feel when you're about to present an essay or in my case the feeling I get when I step into school.

''winters" a soft voice came from underneath the bleacher.

"Michael?" At this point in our friendship ( wait scratch that.....are we even friends?)

I slipped my body in-between the two bleachers before falling into Michael's arms.

So romantic. Not.

In that moment we both plummeted down onto the dirt.

"Nice Clifford Nice" I stuck out my tongue in a mocking way.

I began dusting myself and I watched as he picked a few bits of dead grass off his shirt.

'sorry about that' I nibbled anxiously on my lip.

'it's fine."

I eyed him again before resting my eyes upon his face, Michael hair had faded quickly into a lime green and his eyes caught mine and that's when I saw it.

A black-eye.

Not just a 'normal' black-eye but this one was dark purple and fresh and throbbing and I could tell it hurt him.

Although we had just met Michael Clifford never actually really ever told me about himself. He was almost like a ghost? I never saw him in around campus or knew where he lived.

I only ever stumbled upon him here in these very bleachers.

'Im sorry to sound pushy but Michael who gave you that black eye?' I felt my heart rate pick up... I hated feeling this way.

Weak.

'No one'

'Michael.'

'I rather not say Kelsey.'

There we usually left it, there was nothing else to casually bring up in the conversation.

_________

'you're kidding....? I cannot believe you actually have a 'B' in Senior Portfolio.'

Senior Portfolio / another fancy name for a art class.

'Not everyone is has perfect, talented, and skilled as you Michael.'

That was all clearly sarcasm, I have been gaining confidence suddenly by talking to Michael and he wasn't like doctor Bennet he didn't force me to eat inside. He actually thought eating inside was 'stupid, outdated and lame.'

Michael was different like me.

He began skimming through my artwork for the class and the errors I've done wrong and showing me the difference between certain shades of color or how to properly blend colours.

'Michael why are their marks on your wrist.'

'Its nothing'

'Michael why does it hurt you so much when I nudge you? Why do you suddenly get so many more bruises every time I see you?'

'Its nothing Kelsey'

'Michael why don't you ever eat inside?'

'Michael why don't you ever tell me about yourself?'

'Its nothing Kelsey'

It was all he seemed to reply to me now and days I didn't know much about those scars just that they marked vertically which seemed odd.

'Where are your friends Kelsey?' He broke the silence.

'I don't have any Michael.'

'Why?'

'I don't know.'

__

I began moving around my chair and nibbling on the insides of my cheek but then I began pulling lose hair strands. I was starting to get hot in this room? Oh no it was cold.

'Kelsey you've been squirming in that chair for thirty minutes? You usually have something to say. How was school.'

'Doctor Bennet why don't I have any friends'

Suddenly I began to feel uncomfortable and stuffy... Why didn't I have friends?

'Am I freak?'

'Why don't any of those people like me?'

'What people Kelsey?'

'those people at the party... Why are they laughing at me? What did I do wrong.' My eyes filled with tears and I couldn't breathe.

'Kelsey it's just a memory it's over now. It's over. It's done. Everyone forgot you can move on."

'Then why don't I have friends? Why can't I eat inside?'

With that doctor Bennet answered no further he simply wrote things back into his notepad... I wasn't insane right? I had a reason to cry? Every girl needs a best friend? So why couldn't I have that? Why can't I go out and party and be happy with myself.

I was sick of being sick.

social phobia • l.hWhere stories live. Discover now