*Hey! Another Mondler high-school fic. This is going to be quite a dark fic. Don't read if you don't like that kind of stuff. Hope you enjoy and please review! Also, try see if the answer to the algebra question is right...*
She hated them. They were the meanest, spiteful people she had ever met. Words hurt. That's an understatement. They called her fat, so she lost weight. They called her mouthy, so she shut up. She did everything possible to make them leave her the hell alone.
But they wouldn't.
Her family didn't care. The only person who understood her was her brother. He was older, so off at boarding school, and then to college. She was alone. She was only 14, why did life have to be so...
Crap.
She prefered to keep quiet, and out of the way. Less chance of them noticing her, and saying stuff.
'Tell a teacher.' was the advice she got from her father, her mother didn't even look up. The teachers didn't want to know.
You always see stuff like 'If you consider suicide, then just think, you were put on this planet for a purpose, someone out there loves you and needs you.' Monica had been confused at this. No-one she knew needed her, or even liked her that much. She walked to school and back alone everyday, she ate alone, she worked alone.
She was alone. And nothing would change that, as Monica thought.
Even her seat, in which she sat alone.
The kids in the class prefered to sit alone somewhere else in the room above sitting next to her.
She didn't bother with her hair.
She didn't wear make-up.
Why should she? No-one noticed her. She just got on with her work, as she was doing now.
Algebra. Wasn't hard, she listened well. She had no-one to distract her, as no-one spoke to her. She wrote the answers down, but had to look up as she heard the door open.
It was a boy.
The head master had his hand on the boys shoulder, guiding him towards her classroom. The boy looked uncomfortable, Monica noted. The teacher looked around the room, probably on where to sit this new class member. Monica looked at the teacher, as she was staring right at Monica. The teacher pointed to Monica, and Monica sighed and moved her bag off the spare seat.
Don't even talk to him. He'll be a jerk like the others.
The boy dropped his bag, and sat down. The teacher handed him a new math book. He began to write his name on the front.
Curiosity getting the best of her, Monica looked at his book.
Chandler.
Kind of an unusual name. Monica looked at him. He suited his name. She carried on with her algebra. She noticed he wasn't writing. She looked at him.
"Hi," He said. Monica froze.
Don't you dare reply.
She looked back at her work, and waited until he looked down again before she glanced at him once again. He was looking at the page, but he had hurt in his eyes. She felt horrible. She deliberated with herself for around five minuets, before she finally answered.
"Hi." She said, her voice a squeak. He looked at her.
"That was a bit delayed." He said.
"I don't normally talk to people." She admitted.
"Why?"
"I don't like people," She answered. He laughed.
His laugh is amazing.
"What's funny?" She asked.
"You don't like people?" He asked. "What about your family?"
"I don't have much of a family." She said. His smile disappeared.
"Oh." He said, his small. "If it helps, me neither. My mom and dad divorced."
"Why?"
"My dad's gay," He said. He waited for her to laugh. She didn't.
"What?" She asked, seeing his face.
"W...Why aren't you laughing?" He asked.
"Because it's obvious you don't find that funny. So why would I laugh? Maybe the pricks at the back would, but I won't." She said.
"Okay." They sat in silence for a while. "Do you actually get this?" He said, pointing to the page.
"Yeah. I'll show you. If 7x + 2 = –54, then that means that x = –8." She said.
"I do not see that logic." He said, and she laughed.
I laughed! I haven't laughed in... How long?...
She leant over him and showed him how to work it out, and by the end of the lesson he was an expert.
"Why don't you talk to people?" He suddenly asked.
"Because... I don't do my hair, I don't wear make-up, I'm not pretty enough to be talked to." The bell went as Monica finished the sentence.
"Well, I for one... I think you're beautiful." He said, and he patted her hand, and left the classroom for his next lesson. Blushing, Monica grabbed her stuff and ran after him to catch up to him.