I didn't need his disgusted look to know I was hated. I didn't even need to feel his guilt to know I was unwanted. Worse was when he came into our class all dressed up in the school uniform, his vibrant brown eyes smiling at everyone, introduction, salutations everything. It was only until out teacher told him to take the only vacant seat left in the class: the seat behind me. I could tell by how he walked by me that our venture would be lustfully unpleasant. It only made it worse when he tapped me on the shoulder, I couldn't possibly show him my face it would mask my certainty about his hatred towards me. Another tap, I feel another one right after that one, and then one more rougher this time, I turn half way, "What?", I whisper he bends his face towards mine, "I hate you". My fear realized in half a minute, I feel my face burn as my shoulders start to hunch up in defense, a girls defense mechanism is burying herself in a small cocoon like casing in their assigned desk and thinking no one can see them acting like a retarded squirrel. A boys is more cooler, they throw their fists around, or stick their hands in their pockets and get up and leave the room. These are the big significant differences between both genders, guys can go two ways, girls only have one way, to hide behind a curtain of badly colored, cut hair. My eldest sister Jule colored it red and then cut it for my senior picture, when we got them back she didn't stop apologizing for a whole month till they came back and I was wearing a wig. Now she hardly even touches my hair, she hands me some money and tells me to go to the easiest hair cut place around, I skip the cut and tour around. I feel another tap, I stiffen like I am rabid, "Your hair is ugly", I feel my life slip through the cracks beneath my souls of my shoes, a girls heart comes from her hair, I just lost that destiny today. I grab my books and walk out of the classroom when the bell rings, I try to ignore his insistent hatred but he continues to smolder it beside me, "Thrift store much", my cheeks flood again I keep my hands steady, as he comes over beside me, walking with his hands in his pockets! I must be his worst nemesis. He glances at my tie, his smirk draws up, "Your so ugly, so stupid, so unorganized", his hatred grows, and my disgrace grows wickedly I grab my hood and slop it over my head and run to the front doors. Lunch time, it's all I need to get home and make a scene of saying I am sick, then he wont have to be burdened with such intense dislike for me.

This is part 1.1

Part 1.2 Will be out shortly.

Part 1.3 Will take some time because of my senior year.