Solitude

Fourteen

Confusion is an emotion I have become familiar with lately.

One would think that I have learned to expect the unexpected because of all the recent information I have uncovered lately, and one would be wrong because when I feel a shadow over me and I look up to find her carefully sitting on my table, her coloured contacts trained on me, confusion is all I remember to feel.

It's not that I think she's too good to interact with me, it's just that I think she's too good to interact with me. It's not like she's a mean girl or whatever cliché Leah wishes she is, she's just one of those people that is always surrounded by adoring fans or friends – I think she's too nice to ever call them fans – so those outside of her social circle are usually forgotten.

There was a time I hopelessly stalked her page and tried my best to be one of her friends. While she would always acknowledge my waves and 'hi' then, I don't think she ever really saw me. I was just another person vying for her attention.

I look around the class and find that everyone is staring at me, possibly wondering why all the popular people we know are now paying me attention and to that, I wish I had the answer.

"You're Martha, right?" Her voice manages to sound like a giggle, very pleasant like she's greeting a long-time friend. Her lips are pulled into a wide grin and to be honest, I don't think I've ever seen her unhappy.

I return my gaze to her and for the life of me, I don't know how she manages to make her whole appearance work, but she does! She looks like an anime character and any other person who attempts to come to school like this ends up bullied, but she ends up worshipped and it's just one of those unfairnesses of life, but who am I to complain?

Her dark skin is literally the smoothest, most shiny, most flawless I've ever seen in my life and I want to curl in the corner and start crying because the rest of us girls really have no more room to shine. She's taken all the space, and we don't even mind. Her eyes are friendly and there's something about those blue contacts that make her seem like she's staring right into your soul.

Her hair is a very bright and animated shade of pink and pink is her theme all day and every day. Honestly! I've never seen her wear anything that isn't fifty shades of pink. From her skort to her tank top under her jacket, down to her heeled sandals and the minimal but elegant makeup on her face. How she does it, I really don't know. I don't even think it can be taught. Some people are just born to be the spotlight.

I nod, managing to forget every word in the English language and her smile becomes wider – if that's even possible – as she chews on her gum, then blows a large bubble but doesn't manage to look obnoxious while doing so.

"I'm Bubblegum!" She turns properly on my table so that her legs dangle just in front of me and she's way too close to me, it should be considered intimate.

Someone was told me every straight person is allowed one gay crush. I don't know if that's a set rule or if that person was just messing with me, but it's her! It just has to be.