A Boy too Strong to Break my Heart

this story is based on a true story...the names, places, and some other things have been changed, but there are still emotional truths based on real things. comment if you've ever experienced something similar(most people have). i love anyone who's ever had a broken heart. even though i can't change what happens without removing the based-on-true-story thing, please leave constructive criticism or comments on what you like.

                  XOXO,

                         Piper

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Chapter One

 

I sat there, bored. I'm always bored. Everyone else on the team had already gone home. They don't get dressed or grab their homework or anything. I'm just waiting for the majority of them to get cut because of their grades. I'll have to wait for the midterm.

So I sat. I had already called Mom. She said she'd come get me. But since she had to come all the way from Ft. Dodge, it would take at least a half hour to get to the school. Five-thirty. I had been sitting for at least five minutes. Not long. But it is when you're bored. I got out a book--Kiss of Life. It wasn't that good. I could usually read a book with four hundred pages in maybe five days. It only had three hundred and I had been reading it over a week. Slow.

And then I saw a boy. He was coming down the hallway, dragging a newsboy bag behind him. I had seen him earlier today, twice. The first he was just walking down the hallway, unlike everyone else who rushed from class to class. The second he was feeling the Braille sign beside the door of the gym. I had assumed he was blind, but he didn't have one of the too many school staff members on his tail, and he also opened and went through the door without any problems. Oh, but it was the Junior High gym, and he must have been in high school. Mischievous. It was, like, the third week of school. He was definitely new, but he hadn't been lost.

The boy sat down across from me. Wow. He was kind of hot. Definitely not blind.

"Hi." Creative.

I gave a partially fake smile. He was a boy. He was in High School. He went to Backwoods. He would either, in about ten minutes, assume I'm a slut, or assume I'm a mentally challenged little girl. Why should I say hi? Because I'm a mentally challenged little girl. I laughed a small meant-for-me-only laugh. "Hey." I gave him one of my retarted little waves I was negatively almost-famous-but-not-really for.

"What's funny?" he asked, checking out his clothes, messing with his hair. Apparently he found nothing. He gave me a look like he was assessing someone actually worth talking to. "Let me guess. Junior High?"

I nodded, then stopped, pretended to think, and then nodded again.

"Eighth grade?"

"Yes." I like to use the English language when I can. Sometimes.

"Do you know my sister?"

"Yeah. I think. You're Taylor, right? Becca's brother?"

"Not really. I'm not related to her, I just live with her. I am Flora's brother, though." I didn't have an opinion of her yet. She wasn't in any of my classes. I thought she was a sevie.

The funny thing I had thought of earlier popped back into my head. He was still talking to me, and he wasn't calling me things that I am too angelic to say. I didn't laugh this time, just smiled in a way that didn't hide the idea of something funny in my head.

"What the hell is so funny?" He used bad language without being mad. Like it was regular words. Like everyone else. Eww. I hate those three words.