The Approaching Curve

Friend.

friend   (frnd)

n.

1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.

2. A person whom one knows; an acquaintance.

3. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.

4. One who supports, sympathizes with, or patronizes a group, cause, or movement

"What do you think you're doing bitch?"

The girl heard.

She turned her head to find Alyssa.

She didn't need to see this girl.

She didn't want to see this girl.

What was she doing?

Sitting and listening to her music as people rushed after the bell had rang.

She started to get up to leave to class but felt a punch to her gut.

She was on the ground again.

"I said WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

The girl screamed in her face.

She didn't say anything.

She didn't do anything.

She felt the girl dig her heels into her wrist.

She didn't say anything.

She didn't do anything.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

The girl asked once again. 

More anger.

Yelling.

Anger.

Fear.

Madelynn hated yelling.

She closed her eyes.

She didn't do to well with pain either.

She thought.

She just sat and thought as her brother's girlfriend harmed her.

"Babe, what are you doing? Even you know she's not even worth it."

Brother.

Brother?

He was her foster brother.

Alex.

Alexander. 

It didn't matter.

She huffed as she sucked face with the boy and gave Madelynn the finger.

"Don't mess with her okay?! She's MY girlfriend, and you? For all I know your parents didn't even want you. That's why I'm stuck with you. So be happy you have somewhere to eat and sleep. Bye."

He hated her.

Everyone hated her.

She rubbed it off. It didn't matter.

She didn't matter.

Madelynn got up as she the pain the girl had caused her had struck her.

Her next class was art.

Art.

She loved art.

Loved.

Past tense.

When her parents were still around.

Another story for another day.

She dropped her backpack by her stool and sat by one of the empty easels. 

Her teacher, Mr. Keys, who was merely 20.

He graduated a year or two early and came to be an art teacher.

Art was his passion.

He was a kind soul.

He liked to be called by his first name, Garret.

No one minded.

"Today class, we will be working on a collage. The theme is your childhood. There are several magazines at the front of the class. Get to work, this is due by Friday."

He smiled and waved everyone off.

She walked up to the front of the room and grabbed some magazines.

"Uh, Madelynn? Or do you go by Maddy? Can I speak with you please?"

The girl froze. 

He knew her name.

Was she in trouble? 

He wore a smile on his face.

"You're not in trouble, I just need to speak with you."

She let out a sigh.

Human interaction was a weak point of hers.

He lead her into his small office.

It was beautiful.

There were vines painted onto the walls with small, abstract animals as well as a cityscape. 

"Do you like it?"

She couldn't answer.

She couldn't speak properly.

The girl simply nodded.

The man grinned in response.

"I saw what happened between you and that girl at lunch. I'm concerned, are you all right?"

There was worry in his eyes.

"Y-y-yes."

She spoke.

For the first time that day.

The man sighed.

"If you have any problems, just come to me, I won't rat you out. I may be a teacher, but I'm willing to be a friend."

He ran his fingers through his hair, slightly frustrated.

The girl left the room.

And she came face to face with the one thing that would change her life.

"S-sorry, I didn't see you." 

No one saw her.

She hadn't seen him before.

She ignored it and walked away.

Her thoughts went back to what just happened.

A companion.

A friend. 

Friend.

AN; I'd like to say that this story means a lot to me. I'm putting in small characteristics of my own life. Which ones? I will not say. Enjoy.