Clem's POV

My name is Clem. I have brown shoulder-length hair, dead straight, and eyes a shade of bright blue that mirror the sky on a sunny day. I am waiting for the bus at my bus stop. It's seven o' clock in the morning, and the bus comes at ten after exactly. It's always the same routine: school, homework, sleep, repeat.

I sigh and put my scarf on, wrapping it around my neck tightly. I have to wear it. I'm not normal. I have no friends, and it's all because of the strange birthmark on the right hand corner near the bottom of my neck. Everybody at school, hell everybody in the damn city, thinks it's weird and unusual. I've come to believe that they're right. That's why I have to wear my scarf.

All this jumbled thinking is driven from my mind as my bus arrives. As I get on, I notice a new kid. He's sitting near the front. He has black hair and brown eyes, and he was nervously looking around. I look around the bus for a seat.

It's a really full day and nearly all the seats are taken. Well…there are the seats for the popular kids, but since I am a total social outcast, sitting over there is completely out of the question. But…there is one more. Directly next to the new kid

Damn it.

I want to just stand during the bus ride and pretend that the seat is occupied, but that would hurt his feelings. Who was I to hurt somebody's feelings? So I go to sit down next to him. There is a moment of awkward silence between us.

"Hey there," he finally says. "My name is Sam. Sam Witwicky."

"Clem," I return the greeting hesitantly. "Clem Connor."

There was another uncomfortable silence in which I'm sure he was desperately trying to think of something to say. Anything to say. I know I was. We were rescued from the silence becoming painful, however, when the bus arrived at school. At long last.

"What's your first class?" Sam asks as we both get off the bus.

"Science," I reply, hoping desperately that his was different.

He was so hard to be around…I suddenly realize that it wasn't him that was different and strange. It's the socializing and friendly talking that was so odd and new to me, probably because I had never even had a friendly conversation with my parents. My dad lived in Alaska and my mum never talked to me; she was always working. My Gran was the one who looked after me the most.

I was on pins and needles as Sam looked over his timetable. I could almost feel the tenseness in the air.

"Science is my first class, too," he replies finally, looking relieved at the fact he would know somebody.

I almost died in horror. I hated making an effort to be friendly with someone because I knew that it always ended badly for me. I decided to make the most of it, though, and try to make a friend…But could I do that to Sam? Could I permanently ruin his chance of being popular and having other friends?

"Are you ok?" Sam asks me. "You look a bit troubled."

No, I decide quickly, I can't. "Look, Sam. If you ever want to have any friends ever in this school, you better go hang out with someone else. 'Cause hanging out with me is not good for your popularity, got it?"

Sam's eyes flash, something knowledgeable in their chocolate depths. "Maybe I don't care. Maybe I want to be your friend and forget about the others," he says quietly after a moment, looking me in the eye.

"Sam, do you know why I am friendless?" I ask coldly; I know am killing any chance of us being friends, but I am saving his popularity. There might still be a chance for him.

"No," he states calmly.

"Look at...It's just that...I'm not normal," I say, tripping over my tongue as I take my scarf off.