Tuesdays were terrible days.

Tuesdays were the days that the students at the Little Gifted School were granted extra recess time to frolic about the playground and the grass, draw with chalk on the sidewalk, and generally just enjoy themselves. All the other students were always so excited each time Tuesday rolled around – all except for him.

He hated Tuesdays. Tuesday meant that he would have to suffer through another day of humiliation from the other kids teasing and making fun of him. Tuesday meant that Metro Boy would, as always, start a game of dodgeball and pick every one of his classmates for his team, excluding him. Tuesday meant that Mrs. Schulte would forbid him from staying inside and reading a nice chemistry textbook or working on a new invention and force him to leave Minion with her until the end of recess. Tuesday meant that the young blue boy with an oversized cranium would undoubtedly spend his time avoiding the other students as much as possible, sitting with his back against a tree, staring at the clouds and attempting to let his thoughts carry him far, far away from the Little Gifted School and away from his horrid little classmates who saw to it that every day for him was a living hell.

So, there he sat, just like every other Tuesday in his life. He watched as the cool early autumn breeze lifted and shook the leaves as he tried his best to ignore the sound of his classmates' laughter in the distance. Feeling completely isolated and alone, he almost allowed the stone in his throat to coax the tears from his eyes, but no. It was okay. He was okay. By now he was used to it. He was used to being alone. In fact, he was better off alone. All the more time to think to himself without any interruptions. He pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his shins. He wondered, briefly, what Minion was doing without him, but then he remembered that during recess was when Minion always took his naps, seeing as the teacher refused to let him go outside. The boy sighed then, picking at a few strands of grass around his feet and letting them blow away in the wind.

"Hi."

The sound of a voice snapped the boy from his thoughts and he jumped back a bit. Looking up, his eyes connected with the bright smiley face of a young girl with short brown pigtails. He recognized her as the new girl who had joined their class earlier that day. Why was she talking to him?

"H-hi," he stammered, unsure of how to react. His internal defenses immediately went up. People didn't talk to him. So why had she just talked to him? His eyebrows furrowed as he surveyed her up and down. She didn't look like she wanted to make fun of him, but for all he knew, that cheerful smile of hers could be fake.

"My name's Roxanne. What's yours?" For the first time in his life, the boy's mind went completely blank. No comment about his large inhuman head or blue skin? She just wanted to know what his name was. What could he tell her? He didn't have a name. His parents must have called him something, but unfortunately they had neglected to write down what it was and leave it with him in his escape pod all those years ago. And though his brain was capable of remembering at a rate that no human could ever be capable of, he had no memories of his name. Eventually, he decided to simply call himself 'Blue,' since that was what his prison uncles always called him. That or 'Kid,' but Kid didn't sound like a name at all.

"Um, my name's… Blue," he answered, his face mirroring the expression of a deer in the headlights. He braced himself for what he knew she would say next, but she surprised him.

If at all possible, her smile grew even wider. "Really? Your name is Blue and your skin is blue?"

Here it comes. The boy's face fell as he prepared for a barrage of insults, but they never came. What she said next almost made his jaw drop to the ground.

"That's so cool!"

The boy was stunned. Cool? How could she possibly think that anything about him was cool? He shot her a confused glance, but she seemed unfazed. She crouched to the ground and moved very close to his ear, cupping her hand around her mouth as if to tell him a secret. He was too overwhelmed to back away.

In a quiet whisper, Roxanne said "Blue's my favorite color" with a slight giggle. The boy's face flushed light lavender.

"Really?" he asked in a genuinely shocked tone. He couldn't believe any of this.

"Uh huh," she answered, nodding. Then she stood and offered him her hand. "Do you wanna play with me?" The boy looked at her hand intently, then searched her face for any sign of malevolence. For a moment, he sat there, contemplating what just happened. There was no way he could be sure she was being genuine, but the fleeting thought of actually having a real friend produced a warm tingly feeling in the pit of his stomach that, no matter how hard he tried, would not go away.

Finally, he accepted her outreached hand and stood up, cautiously smiling at her. She smiled back. "Yeah, okay," he replied.

"Okay! Come on!" she said, pulling lightly on his hand, beckoning him to follow. He obliged and the two set off jogging. Where to he had no idea, but at that point, he would have followed her anywhere. His smile brightened as she glanced back, the breeze blowing her bangs up from her forehead, her pigtails bouncing with every step, and her blue eyes sparkling in the sun.

Perhaps Tuesdays weren't so terrible after all.