"Omigosh- so my name is Monique, but everyone calls me Nudge, like, even my mom told the teachers to call me Nudge, cause I talk so much, and everyone had to nudge me to get me to shut up, and omigosh, I just love her shoes, don't you? I need to ask her where she got them. Do you know her name? What's your name? Lemme guess. Um… Jessica? No? Hayley? Janna? Zoë? Omigosh, you look just like a Zoë. Like, I knew this Zoë when I was in 3rd grade, and she looked JUST like you, and- HI!" She says to a pale freckled strawberry blonde boy who was about 4 inches taller than me that was passing us in the hall.
W0W, she talks a lot, but I don't care, I just walk on as she talks to the strawberry blonde. I think he's new, too.

"Hey, Iggy? How was your first day? This is… um," she grabs onto my arm, "What's your name?"

I stay silent.

"Are you mute? I'm sorry"-I cut her off.

"No. I'm not." I say flatly, hoping for her to stop talking to me.

"Hearing disability?" She asks, concerned. Ugh….

I glare at her and she shrinks away. "No. Max."

"My name isn't MAX!" she says, frowning, but then she quickly smiles again, "It's Nudge. And what's your name?"

"Max."

Finally, the strawberry blonde speaks up. "Hey, I'm Iggy, and isn't Max a boy name? I don't care. Can I get into your pants?"

I glare at him. "Pervert. No, it's not." I mutter the first part. He's definitely just like every other teenage creep. I step forward, yanking my arm from Nudge's firm grip. I continue walking down the hall and Nudge follows behind me after saying bye to Iggy. Smiley. Too smiley, but I kinda like it. I guess I'd be like that if I wanted attention, but I get too much. I guess Nudge wants attention, so she dyed her hair green.

Sure, I dyed my hair, a little, but only streaks. I reach up and twirl a streak of black between my thumb and my pointer finger.

My sleeve comes down a little, revealing some scars from him. Ooh, I remember when that one happened.

Nudge gasps, "What happened to your arm? Why is it so scratched up?"

I don't want to lie to her, so I say, " I wasn't careful. I slipped." I slipped on a rug, and then he came into the room and beat me up for being stupid, and falling down. I shudder, but Nudge doesn't notice. She's too busy commenting on people's shoes and stuff. Is she ever serious? No, of course not. She doesn't have an abusive father to deal with, does she? Of course not. No one does. Why me? Why does life hate me?

People shrink away form my glare, but Nudge, from behind me, doesn't see my face and keeps commenting on people.

Lissa turns the corner, walking toward us. She smirks at me, and flicks the "call me" sign to guys from the football team.

Nudge says really loud, "Who's the SLUT?"

Lissa's eyes widen, and she looks like an owl with a makeup addiction. "What?" She notices Nudge, standing next to me. "Oh, sorry Hun, you're really confused right now. Being near emo girls like this freak here have that affect on you. Come hang out with the populars, after all, soon you'll be a cheerleader."

"No, slutty girls suck." Nudge says.

I actually gasp, surprised. "That has GOT to be the shortest thing you ever said in your life."
Everyone turns to me. It's rare that I speak at all, much less sort of nicely. "Fuck off, will you?" I glare at them extra hard, for effect.

Lissa glares at me, "You ruined a perfectly good cheerleader!" Of course, she always finds a way to blame me!