The first time I saw her, she had books blocking her face. Well, I guess I really didn't see her, just the books. However, I did get to see her when she crashed into me, her books flying everywhere. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" She reached down to grab her books while I helped.

I picked up her history book and handed it to her. I had managed to glance at her. She had the loveliest crystal blue eyes and her hair was a golden blonde. She was wearing a pink shirt and she had at least five books in her hands. I swore I was staring at an angel.

"Uh, here's your..." I glanced at the book, reading the title, "history book, uh..."

"Sahara. Sahara Mint. And you are?"

"Uh..." For a minute there, I almost forgot my name. "Uh...Roland."

"Roland. That's a lovely name!" She had a wonderful smile. "Thanks." She accepted the history book and I helped her pick up the rest. "Sorry about bumping into you earlier," she said. "It's just that, my teacher gave us so much homework and I couldn't see and-"

"It's fine, really," I said, helping her up. She opened her locker and shoved the books inside. "What homeroom are you?"

"Uh...Room 303. With Mr. Witherspoon."

"Oh! I'm actually in the homeroom right next to you!" She smiled again. She paused as she lined up her books on the locker wall as I struggled to get mine open. "You know, you are the first person to help me," she said.

"What?" I had finally opened my locker but it jabbed me in the nose. I rubbed it as she continued. "Yeah, people think I'm weird since, you know, I'm the smartest in the class. They think I'm the teacher's pet, just because I know all the answers. I usually sit by myself at lunch."

"Oh, well..." I paused. I didn't know how to approach this conversation. "When do you have lunch?"

"Uh, twelve thirty. Why?"

"Same time as me! We could eat together!"

"Is that allowed?" Sahara asked. "I don't usually see people sitting outside of their class."

"I'm sure it's fine," I said, grabbing a pencil from my locker.

"Could I join you?" Sahara asked. I don't think she would like my table. I don't even like it. "Uh, I'll join you. It's for the best."

"All right!" she said, pleased. "Meet you at lunch then!"

"Yeah," I said, watching her walk away. I have plenty of pretty girls in my class, all of them popular, but, none of them are near as pretty as her. Sahara. Even her name is pretty. She's just wonderful.

During class, I barely payed any attention to Mr. Witherspoon. I could only think of Sahara. I can't believe I made friends with a girl so pretty! In fact, I couldn't even believe I made a friend! Since I moved to a new school, no one wanted to talk to me, since I came in halfway through the semester.

I walked into the cafeteria, grabbed my lunch, and walked towards the other side of the room. My class usually eats in front, and the other tables are used for the ones down the hall, so Sahara's class should be at this table.

Thankfully, my assumption was right as she was the only blonde in her class. "Sahara?" I checked. I don't want to make a fool of myself, which I do constantly. "Yep!" she replied. She moved over enough for me to sit down. I checked the table around her. There are a few people, I'm not sure weather they're classmates or other people, who were sitting at the end of the table, paying no attention to either of us. Other than that, she has the whole table to herself.

"I have to admit, it's much better at your table."

"Really? How so?" Sahara asked. "I think it would be worse at my table."

"Well, at my table, we just have boys being boys, some people doing their homework and the popular girls are always talking to each other about other students and other kinds of gossip and its not fun to be around, especially if you get a paper plane to your face or someone throws food at you."

"Ah, I see. Well, at least you could sit with your table. Everyone always found a way to keep me out of it so I just gave up and sat here."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry." Still had no idea what to say to someone in a situation like that but I'm pretty sure I would make it worse if I tried. "Thank you for sitting with me," Sahara said after a while. "I appreciate that!"

"Well, you are the first friend I made here and everyone is too busy to notice I even exist so it's better to sit with someone who knows I'm alive."

"I understand that!" Sahara said, giggling.

We were quiet for a little until Sahara broke the silence. "Can I ask what your last name is?" I stared at her and then pointed to myself, as I couldn't say anything with my mouth full, especially not in front of her. "Yeah, silly!"

I quickly swallowed what was left in my mouth. "Crane. Roland Crane."

"Crane?" She checked, and I just nodded with another mouthful of food. "Crane...Crane..." She kept muttering my last name to herself. "Ah! Crane! I know that name! There is a bakery here with the name Crane on it!"

"That's my mother's," I replied. "Mother Crane's Bakery."

"Yeah! That's the one! Why is it called that? I've always wanted to ask but I never wanted to be rude."

"Oh, no you're fine!" I smiled. "It's just a thing that started a little while ago. My grandmother started a bakery and called it that so then my mom took over. Next, It'll be me who owns the place."

"You? Are you the only child in your house?"

"Of course not!" I replied. "It's just that, all my sisters are out of the house and in their own jobs and they never really took mother's love for baking. My brothers hate it, except one who loves cooking, so that leaves me, the only one who likes baking, to take charge of the place."

"Oh! How many siblings do you have?"

"Way too many," I sighed. "It's hard to get anything done in there. I have twelve in total. I'm the youngest. We're all around the same age except a few of my siblings are already out with their own families."

"Oh, so you're the youngest." She thought for a moment. "I bet it's nice to have siblings. I'm an only child and I was lucky to be born anyway as my mother was barren."

"Oh really?" I asked.

"Yeah, my mom's best friend helped her but she almost died in the process. Dad saved me and her."

"Yeah, my dad used to save me all the time. My family is overrun by boys."

She giggled. "I bet that's rough!" I laughed. "It is but it's a lot of fun. specially around the holidays. Some of my siblings moved away and live in other states so it makes it hard to see them. They come over for family reunions and make the house a mess again."

This time she laughed. "That sounds fun!" We were silent for a little while again. "Were you born here?" I asked.

"Me? Well-"

"Ha! You asking the teacher's pet where she was born? She was born in the lowest slump here! We call her the teacher's slave because of it!" a kid in the corner said, apparently overhearing my question. A few other kids piped in.

"She had to wear rags as a baby!"

"Making her like a real slave!"

"Okay, that's enough!" I cried. I turned my attention back to Sahara, who had stopped talking and stared at the floor. "It's okay, Sahara. Just let me know if they pick on you again. I'll stop them for you!"

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," she said, keeping her eyes on the floor. "If you'll excuse me." She stood from her chair and ran into the hallway, ignoring me when I called for her. "Aw, is she going to cry?" one of the girls at the other end said.

"Aw, boo-hoo, teacher's slave! Is she going to go back home to her mommy?"

I stood from my chair. "Not cool, guys," I said.

"What are you going to do? You just got here."

"Just because she grew up poor, does not give you the excuse to pick on her."

"Who are you to talk?" the female of the group asked. "I noticed you. You moved here about three months ago and haven't made any friends! So do you expect her to be your friend?"

I took a deep breath. Father always told me to keep my anger in check. He said I can be very powerful when I'm mad so I have to be careful. I can't blow up on them. Not now. "Why do you guys pick on her? Is it because she's different? Or is it because she's smart and passing all her classes? You have no reason, or excuse, to pick on her." I walked away from the table and back to class. The bell rang somewhere through that conversation but I had been to wrapped up in stopping them that I didn't leave and ended up late for class.

Thankfully, on the way, I stopped Sahara in the hallway. "Sahara? You okay?" She sniffled. "Yes, I'm okay. Thank you for checking on me."

"Uh...do you want to come to mother's bakery later? I'm hoping something in there will cheer you up. I mean, it's okay if you don't want to-"

"I'll go," Sahara said, stopping my sentence.

"You will?"

"Yeah. I've never actually been but I think it'll be a good change for me. I'll see you then."