There was an interesting boy in her class. He didn't talk much, he really just showed up to school. He sat toward the back of the class. He never answered questions willingly, only if the teacher forced him to speak up. But he was smart, Mr. Vince always read his essays and poems to the class—which made his slightly tan cheeks flare red. Miss Dale praised his equations, causing his mess of black hair to fall lower over his eyes as he sank in his seat. Mrs. Jenson said he was an ace at the exams, causing his hands to clench around his desk. Mr. Crow displayed his paintings of birds and space in the hallway, making him hold his books tight to his chest as he walked past them, as peers mimicked him and teased him. Like they always did when he was mentioned.

There was an interesting boy in her class. He talked a lot, he was the prince of the school. He sat in the middle of class. He answered every question, teachers had to ask him to let someone else try. He was smart—Mr. Vince let him read his short stories to the class and praised his essays—which made him grin wildly. Miss Dale praised his equations, causing him to flip the mess of black hair on his head in pride. Mrs. Jenson said he was an ace on her tests, causing his hand to clench in the air and do a little fist pump. Mr. Crow displayed his sketches of people and his optical illusions in the hallway, making him walk a little taller as he passed them, as peers smiled at him and talked to him. Like they always did when he was mentioned.

The boy was always by himself. He walked to school by himself. He ate lunch by himself. He did homework by himself in study hall. No one partnered with him for projects, until the teacher made a group of three to include him. Which made him apologize to everyone in the group. And he walked home alone.

The boy was never ever alone. He walked to school with his best friend Austin. He ate lunch with Austin and the football team, even though he was in marching band and his sport was basketball. Everyone wanted to partner with him for projects, he was swarmed until he grabbed Austin by the elbow or sat next to Mae Taylor, the prettiest girl in school. Which made every single girl jealous….even herself. And he walked home with Austin and half the football team and his basketball buddies.

The boy at her school was never without his earbuds. He wore them in class. He wore them in gym. He wore them at lunch. People tried to steal them. Garret Moore broke them. Teachers tried to make him leave them at home, but he always ducked his head and offered a small word of apology.

The boy at her school was never without his rings. He wore them every day, on a necklace hanging down his front. He wore it in gym. He admired them at lunch, his buddies letting him have his moment. They were his parent's wedding rings, his birth parents. The principle tried to get him to take them off, but he stood his ground and didn't back down.

The boy at her school wore strange clothes. He wore dark t-shirts, dark flannel button ups covering his arms. He wore black jeans, not exactly skinny jeans but tighter than normal guy jeans. He wore the same pair of converse every day. On the days he had to dress up, every Friday for honors day, he simply wore khakis and a long sleeved white dress shirt. He tugged at his sleeves all the time, and if the slipped she felt sad.

The boy at her school wore cool clothing. He wore name brand tank tops and athletic gear, paid for by his rich 'uncles'. Leather bracelets slid up and down his wrists. He wore name brand shorts too, looking like a teenaged model. He wore rugged looking sandals, or his fancy high tops. He cleaned up nicely, showing up on Fridays in dress pants, a pale blue shirt tucked into his belt, his $500 dollar shoes shined, a fancy wristwatch, a bowtie laced around his neck and a sharp blazer pulling it all together. When people noticed the marks on his wrists, he never broke their gaze and asked them to look at his eyes, his present—not his past, and when he did it made her feel brave.

There was an interesting boy in school. He was always closing his eyes—like he was reliving horrible memories. He always flinched away from the jocks that bullied him. He had an uncanny looking scar across his check.

There was an interesting boy in school. He was always looking around wide eyed—like he was so excited to be there. He leaned into 'bro-hugs', he high fived a lot. The scar on his cheek from a surfing accident looked wicked.

There was a hurting boy at her school. He was pressed against the lockers, Garret punching him over and over again, Mae was giggling with her friends. Garret hissed out insults.

"Just go die, freak." He threw him to the ground. The crowd started to walk away, leaving him bruised in the middle of the hall. He sat up slowly—his bright blue eyes latching onto hers. Tears were welling in them, as he hung his head.

There was a bubbly boy at her school. He leaned back in his seat, smiling like a lunatic, Garret and Mae whispering with him. Until Mr. Caret, the secretary, came into the class room. He took the boy out into the hall. The door didn't shut all the way—and the whole class heard.

"….Your brother was declared dead three hours ago."

The air split into a wail. A long held out 'No'. Shouting followed it, the boy screaming. Demanding that his brother wasn't dead, he was alive—begging Mr. Caret not to lie to him.

There was a crying boy in her class. Tears dripped down his face, a soft purplish color surrounding it after his beat up. She dropped to a knee next to him, holding out a stack of papers. He looking up, whipping away a tear.

"I'm sorry they hurt you."

"I'm used to it." He whispered numbly, taking his papers—the prettiest drawings she had ever seen.

"It's still not right." He shrugged.

"Hasn't stopped anyone before." He spoke with bitterness, like he was done with the world.

"My name's Kelly Peters." She offered, trying to smile as she walked toward the front doors.

"Dick Jordan."

"Do you want to sit with me at lunch tomorrow?" He froze. "You d-don't have to, just if you want. You could show me your art?" She offered, trying to make it seem less like charity, and like a friendship.

He smiled. And it was beautiful. "That would be nice." Kelly felt her spirits soar. If only it hadn't taken bulling for them to meet.

There was a sullen boy in her class. He had been missing for a week, his brother's funeral was out of state. But when he returned he didn't talk to anyone. His head was kept low. He showed up to school early, and left late.

"I'm sorry your brother died." The sentence left her lips without thinking. He was at his locker, packing up his books. Austin, standing next to him, gave her a little warning look.

"Everyone has to die." He supplied, a tired smile on his face. "Jason died doing what he loves best—being a prat." He tried to joke.

"It still has to be sad..." Oh she needed to shut her mouth before she made her crush cry.

He nodded, turning to face her. "And I'll get over it. I have before." He sounded like he was reassuring himself more than her.

"My name's—"

"Kelly Peters." He cut her off, an almost genuine smile on his face. "Dick Jordan, if you don't know." Austin smirked ever so slightly. "So—in light of the brother's passing, I'm doing what he told me to do. Kelly, do you want to go to the dance with me?"

He heart stopped for a second, the cutest guy in school, the sweetest, smartest, coolest guy in school wanted to go with her?

"Only if you want I mean." He stammered. He was nervous…..oh he was so cute!

She smiled. "That would be nice."

AN) Back from DC! Felt like doing a one shot.

Alex: I helped wite it!

ME: Yes you did Hammie. Spot, not now sweetie.

Spot: Robbie, I needya….

ME: Go outside and play with Bielke sweetie, Hammie has to get lunch.

Spot: Dumb 'ittle bugger. Nottin ta do unless I'm takin' care of 'im or readin'*side glances at Bella**heads out to play with Bielke*

Hammie: Weview for Momma! She wikes to wite and to get 'eviews!