Simply Stanford

Chapter 1

Aight so these first few chapters are going to be introductions to them and there problems. Don't worry, I do have plans for my charactors to be happy, I'm just introducing their mentality and mental stuff. Okay, hope you like it!

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"I just don't get it!" I exclaim with a sigh. "Wouldn't you want to be different?"

"Yes but not in a wierd way," my best friend Hazel says, wrinkling her nose.

We are in the cafeteria of downhill highschool, arguing over a fashion design I made. 'Fasion' design. It was basically a slutty Shrek I made as a joke, but I got really defensive when hazel started dissing it immediately. I worked harder on that than I did on my homework. Besides, I don't think it's that bad. Then she got into the science of Fasion and I gave up.

"Okay," I sigh, running my hand through my short, brown hair.

No one would think hazel and I would be close, or friends at all. Im some introvert no one should pay attention to, and she's a popular who everyone adores. Of course she can be kind of annoying when she tries to argue about the stupidest things, but she's cool.

Hazel has long straight black hair that reaches her waist. She wears sparkly purple glasses, and normally something that looks good and fasionable. She wants to go to college to be a fashion designer, even though everyone knows she could make it as like, a rocket scientist or something. Some people used to make racist jokes About her being asian, but she made sure to tell them that she didn't really like that, so it stopped for the most part. I love how daring and not socially anxious she is. Total opposite of me.

"So," I say, changing the subject. "What are you doing this weekend?"

"Oh!" She exclaims as she always does when she remembers something 'exciting'. "I got a new neighbor! They just got here yesterday so I'm going to see if they need help. And possibly make a new friend!"

"I don't get it. How are you excited about talking to people. People, Hazel"

"I don't know, I like having a lot of friends." She says with a sarcastic undertone.

"Can't relate" I say.

"I think everyone knows that by now, Stan," she says and I nod in agreement.

It's been a while since I came out, but I still get put in a better mood when I hear people refer to me as Stan, and using male pronouns. Granted it's no longer exciting like when I first came out, but it still feels nice, and way more natural than Allison, and she.

"Hey, Hazel?" I ask, and she looks up. "Thank-" I'm about to deliver a sentimental speech to her that would move anyone, and show my gratitude, but got cut off by the bell.

"Sorry Stan, my class is on the other side of the school, see you later!"

"Later!" I call after her.

My class is close enough to where I don't have to be worried and can postpone going to class. Hazel, however goes to her locker in between every single class, so she's always in a rush. I don't even know where my locker is. Or the passcode.

I walk into my math class, a dim room lit up by scattered lamps and fairy lights. Mrs. Anderson thinks it gives the room a nice aesthetic. She also had to be different in the seating. There are beanbag chairs, high desks with stools, regular old desks, a small couch, and to everyone's confusion, a park bench. Everyone always joke about her stealing it.

Mrs. Anderson has a sarcastic personality that everyone loves. She's round with shoulder length light brown hair. She's basically everyone's favorite teacher.