That Girl

Chapter 1

Den was sound asleep beside me, but I was still up at 3:27 am, staring blankly at the ceiling. For some reason, I kept thinking about Lia rushing to the bathroom and throwing up. Was she sick? Did she eat something? I wouldn't know, because she left the house for the doctor right after, leaving half her red velvet and cream cheese frosted cupcake abandoned. I just sat there, alone and wondering what just went on in front of me. And when Lia got home one and a half hours later, she went strait to bed.
I looked over at my clock, 3:32 am.

Suddenly, I heard her in the bathroom again, crying and vomiting. I wanted to get up and help her, but the thought of vomit made me gag. So I just tried to ignore it and closed my eyes to fall into a deep, deep sleep.

"Do you even have any friends? You always sit alone and just looking at you makes me feel depressed."

I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself and keep in all the rage building up inside of me.

"What's wrong with your hair? Did it get a disease or something?" Pieces of my hair were being tossed in front of my face.

I clenched my jaw. I was about to lose it, when suddenly a voice from across the bus aisle said, "Hey, no one likes bullies, so just back off, man."

I opened my eyes and unclenched my jaw. The girls behind me went quiet and sat down in their rightful spots. I sighed of relief.

"Hey, you." The boy across the aisle said a few minutes later. I didn't know if he was talking to me, so I just sat still. "Hey, I'm talking to you." He leaned over and poked my shoulder. I gathered enough courage to look over. His name popped in my head when I laid eyes on him: Dylan. He was is my homeroom. As soon as I realized I was staring at him for a while, he said, "What? I'm not gunna bite." He gave a smile. I think he was intending I sit by him. So I looked around to make sure no snitches would catch me, and I hopped from a warm seat to a cold one.

"What's you're name?" He said.

"Uh, Bethany. But I go by Beth."

"Hey Beth, I'm Dylan." He put out his hand. I shook it hesitantly. I feel like that was the official ceremony to our new friendship.

"So, what's the story with your hair?" He asked. I looked over at it and combed my hands through it.

"Oh... Um, well, it was last year when I dyed it. I decided on blonde because, well, what girl with natural brown hair won't dye their hair blonde? And red tips because I think it looks nice with blonde, and it's my favorite color." I said. He seemed to be interested in every word I said, even though I was babbling. This was so weird, I've never had this long of a conversation with anyone besides Lia and my dad in a while. And the fact that he asked me to sit by him was mind blowing to me.

"Well, it's obvious you like to talk; I didn't need that much of a backstory. But it's nice to know." He gave a half smile, which made me do the same. I never really experienced the feeling of 'butterflies in your stomach', but now I know.

"So, where you born in New York?" He asked. It seemed like he was trying to somehow, uncommonly, hit on me. In his own way.

"Um, no. I moved here two years ago with my dad."

"Why?"

I paused for a moment, then replied with, "My parents divorced." I looked down. For some reason I was ashamed about it, as if I caused it. He took even a longer pause.

"Well, I'm glad you stayed with your dad; you seem like my kind of person." He said as he tried to contain a smile. I felt myself blush.