Aarron

Chapter 1

In the last year you've watched as your friends slowly left you alone. You've been friendless for a month so far,you're bored out of your damn skull. But because of your "friends" you've become bitter towards people. Not because you want to be alone but you fear the inevitable event in which your cast off once more. Ever since childhood you've dealt with rejection constantly whether it be from your parents or peers, but that event was the last straw. Yes, you're going to be lonely, but it's better than being lonely in a group of people who're supposed to be your friends. You drift out of your daze when the bell rings, you get out of your seat stretch a bit then slump over and start shoving your things into your backpack. The last thing you pick up is your sketchbook, you've never really been much of a drawer but you've picked it up in all your alone time. You sigh and shove it in. You zip up your bag, pick it up, and start hauling it down to the library. You camp out at a table in the back of the library, pull out your book and start reading. After a few minutes your eyes wander down to your bag, your kinda hungry but you know by the time you get your lunch out, and choose what to eat you won't be hungry anymore. The only reason you actually bring a lunch is to avoid unnecessary question of; " You doing alright honey?" From your "concerned" mother (who only ever cared about your recently deceased sister) she knows something is up, because all you do is pick at your food when you sit down to eat with the family. You know you're a terrible liar, so you don't want to have to deal with the question. You very well know that you aren't alright but your parents will blow it out of proportion and probably assume it's depression or some shit like that. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of someone sitting down across from you, out of curiosity you look: It's a boy with messy brown hair, green eyes, and it looks like he's wearing earbuds. You return to your book feeling like your peace has been disturbed, you've just gotten used to ignoring people yet as you try to read you can't be nothing but bothered by his presence. Though as usual you say nothing, and you sit there trying your hardest to ignore him and failing.

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For quite some time this is how you spend your lunch, you, reading a book and him sitting across from you doing whatever it is that he does, you fail to notice. But as time passes you find that you go from being disturbed by his presence to being quietly happy when he shows up. Though there are some days when he doesn't show, which bothers you slightly. You've somehow made a silent friendship, though you're probably the only one who thinks this. He probably doesn't even register your presence, he's here to do homework or something of the like, and probably has no interest in conversing with the weird girl who sits across from him. Though today when he sits down, you look up from your own book to realize he's reading the same one. Finally something to talk about, you start analysing the possibility of conversing about the book, and start thinking of a way to start on the topic. You decide to go with a simple do you like this author? You start repeating the question in your head until you think your prepared enough to say it. You open your mouth and repeat the phrase in your head once more

" Are you the author of this book?" You ask then immediately your hand covers your mouth and kick yourself mentally for majorly screwing up. You look at him, and relax. Good doesn't look like he heard you, let's try again.

" Do you like this author?" You ask properly but it comes out as a whisper. You sigh, you give up it's clearly not happening. You uncross your legs bumping the table in the process, you lean over and slide your book into your open bag before zipping it up. When you correct yourself you jump slightly, surprised to see he's looking at you. You assume he's annoyed about you bumping the table

" Sorry," You mutter and he looks at you puzzled, and that's when you notice his face. He's got a black eye and multiple small bruises scattered across his face.

" Are you okay? What happened?" You ask him concerned, his eyes wander all over your face while you speak before they rest on your lips, this irritates you.

" You know what nevermind," You say bitterly before getting up. You pick up your bag and stride away from him and the table. You look over your shoulder once, as you walk away and for some reason he looks extremely bewildered. Once you exit the library you start thinking about that interaction, and the more you think about it, the heavier your mind becomes. It was probably a misunderstanding, no, yes it was if he meant to do that he wouldn't have looked so confused, you don't even know him maybe he's hard of hearing, if so then I'm a major bitch, yes, yes you are you already knew this, what's wrong with you?

Your thoughts are interrupted by loud yelling emanating from behind you. You look over your shoulders surprised to find yourself in the locker bay. It's the boy from lunch, surrounded by three boys, ones you know. They're the head "jerks" of the school, you know this because you have seen them bully many students into switching schools. They're passing him around to each other, each push getting more and more violent, and they're heading towards you. You watch as they get nearer with each push and string of degrading words. He tries to get out of their circle but fails. You don't think any of them are aware of your presence, so you lean back against the lockers. Better not to get involved, you close your eyes and sigh

" Stupid assholes" You mutter barely loud enough for you to hear. Suddenly you hear a slam of hands against lockers, at the sides of your head. Your eyes open to meet bright emerald ones with little flakes of gold. They seem to mirror your surprise, though they also seem to hide something darker. Suddenly you here "Shove im boys!" and then there's pressure on your lips. Your eyes widen in sync with his. Suddenly the pressure's gone and his face goes bright red, his hands fly to to his mouth, then he slowly backs up before bolting.