Hello again! Well, I've been busy with family-oriented plans the past couple days, and I spent the entire day today at the beach. (Building up that tan for senior pictures, ya' feel?) Here's the next chapter, though!
Also, I'm not sure if anyone noticed... But I took Drew and Bethany from prior stories of mine. I named Nat's best friend Bethany, so I used the same name. Drew was also a criminal in one of my stories. (I beg of you, please don't go back and read it-it was written years ago, and it's terrible compared to now, haha.)
Anyways, enjoy! And thanks again to Molly and Christie for the nice reviews. (:
Two months later, the warm summer sun has been replaced by cool breezes and colorful leaves. Although I love autumn, my enjoyment of school has stayed about the same, averaging at about three out of a hundred. We have finally finished the volleyball unit in gym and are now moving on to cross country. I'm not in cross country, but I'm pretty decent at running, so that's a bit of a relief. It's not quite as embarrassing.
Things had been starting to look up, actually, until this week. Aside from sitting alone at lunch, being chosen last for teams, and being generally invisible, everything else seems to be going wrong. At this point in time, I can't tell if I'd rather be picked on, or completely ignored. Either way didn't feel very good, but I don't see any other choice but to take it.
Today, however, after tripping up the stairs (in front of what felt like half the student body), finding a note in my locker that read "loser" on it, being either ignored or prodded at during every single hour, and then being relentlessly picked on by Drew Bowden during AP Physics, I've just about lost all resolve to maintain my calm facade. I just want to go home, but I still have to live through another hour of who-the-hell-knows-what in P.E.
As I'm walking out of AP Physics and biting my lip hard to avoid bursting into tears, I see Annabelle, Katie, and the rest of their group of friends standing by a row of lockers. Again, I've somehow managed to avoid them for a couple weeks, but I guess I can't hide forever.
I try to walk past without them seeing me, but as I hear a loud, "Oh, it's you again," from Katie, I know I haven't evaded them this time. I make one last attempt to quickly walk past them, but Katie darts in front of me so that I run into her. "Hey, watch it!" she yells in an overly-obnoxious tone. She then shoves me against a row of lockers, causing me to lose my balance and fall, landing hard on my right arm as my shoulder slams into the locker again. My book drops out of my hands and lands with a thud on the floor; my entire binder hits the ground, the metal clasps open, and papers fly everywhere; my pencil case, which I hadn't noticed wasn't completely zipped, falls to the ground followed by the skittering of pens and pencils across the linoleum. Tears spring to my eyes as Katie and her group of friends burst into laughter. "Oh, and you dropped your stuff," Katie taunts as her friends erupt into fits of laughter again. Annabelle stays silent and bites her lip, but I hardly notice or care anymore.
I'm about to reach over to start picking up my stuff when I realize I just can't hold back the tears any longer. I've had it; I can't take this crap anymore. As a sob escapes my throat and the tears start spilling out, I clap a hand to my mouth, turn, and rush away towards the nearest bathroom, completely abandoning all my things. I think I pass Bethany and some of her friends as I streak towards the bathroom, but I don't stop to check, and I don't care. Thankfully there's nobody in here; not that I would care if there was. I'm so far past caring.
I rush to the far corner at the end of the row of sinks, where I lean against the counter and let a sob escape my throat. I glance up at my reflection in the mirror, but I can hardly even bear to look. Tears and mascara stain my face, and I can barely even bring myself to look my own damn reflection in the eye. When I finally do, the emotions there scare the hell out of me.
That's when I realize how truly lonely I am. I have a few acquaintances, but I have no real friends. In fact, I have more people that appear to hate my guts for no apparent reason at all, than I have people I'd even consider acquaintances, let alone friends. I have nobody to talk to; I can't even bring myself to tell my own mother. Nobody seems to care, and if anybody does, they certainly aren't showing it.
Nobody understands, but then again, I hardly understand.
I cover my face with my hands and slide down the wall as tears spill through my fingers. The large bathroom makes my sobs echo off the walls, making me sound louder than I'm actually being. I'm not typically this emotional; this is the first time I've cried this hard since I was about eight. But all the emotional stress I've held in for the past few months finally comes out in one big, ugly wave that I'm just about drowning in.
I hear footsteps enter the bathroom, walk near me, and stop, but I'm in so much pain that I hardly notice, let alone care.
"Natara?" a voice calls softly. I hear it, but I don't answer right away. I can't; I don't trust my voice or any other part of me right now.
Whoever is in front of me takes another step closer and crouches down beside me. "Natara?" she repeats again. I'm still crying, but I manage to calm down enough to look up. My vision is blurry, but I manage to make out the figure in front of me: Bethany.
"Aww," she murmurs quietly when I make feeble, watery eye contact. I think for a moment that I might be done crying, but nope; I hold her gaze for another couple seconds before I burst into tears again. I lean my elbows on my knees and sob into my hands, completely screwing my attempt to stop the waterworks. She lets me cry for a couple seconds before reaching over and wrapping me in a slightly awkward yet tight hug. I only hesitate a moment before returning the gesture, allowing myself to cry while she gently rubs my back.
Once I've settled down, she pulls away and allows me to wipe my eyes on my sleeves.
"I'm so sorry," she mumbles gently once my sobs have subsided to occasional shudder-y sniffles. "I had no idea they were being so mean to you. I would've said something."
I sniff. "It's okay," I say shakily. "Not your battle to fight."
"No, it's not okay, " she disputes with a frown. "They're making you feel like crap; you don't deserve that."
I wipe a few more tears off of my face. "Well, you're the first person who's seemed to give a single damn about me all year, so I'm not complaining."
"Do you have any friends?" she asks carefully after a moment of relative-silence. Her tone of voice isn't mean; she's genuinely asking a question, so I give a genuine answer.
"No," I choke. "Not really, anyways. Just acquaintances, I guess."
"Well, now you have me," she smiles. I manage a smile back.
"I'll switch my lunch and sit with you," she offers. "And we took the same classes, for the most part; I'm sure I could switch into the same hours if I–"
"Oh, no," I stammer quickly. "You... You don't have to do that. I'm... used to being alone, anyways."
"I know I don't have to," she says. "I want to."
I pause before nodding in acceptance. "Okay. Thanks, Bethany," I add with a genuine smile.
She smiles back and gives my tear-soaked hand a comforting squeeze, but says nothing. I squeeze back gratefully. She stands and helps me up, grabs a few paper towels, dampens them with cool water, and offers them to me.
"Thanks," I say, accepting it and cleaning up my face. She offers me her water bottle, too, from which I take a grateful sip. Aside from a few stray tears, I finally feel like I'm done crying, when I hear another pair of footsteps quickly approaching the bathroom. I look up and am surprised to see who stands there.
In the door way stands Annabelle. Tears stream down her face, and my books and papers are neatly stacked in her arms.
"Natara," she chokes. Surprised, I take a step towards her, but say nothing. My mind flashes back to a time when we were younger, when she showed up at my front door in a similar state. Her dog had just died at the time.
"Look," she continues, swiftly wiping her eyes and setting my stuff on the counter. "I'm sure you're pissed, and you have every right to be. I've been acting like a jerk the past few months. But I'm so, so sorry. I... I tried to fit in with Katie and her friends. I just... I was just so lonely, and Katie and them seemed cool... But I realize now that I... changed, and I turned into a jerk, and I'm so sorry. Katie yelled at me for picking up your stuff, and... well, we're not friends any more, if we even were to begin with. But I just... I'm so sorry, I feel so bad for acting like that. I don't expect you to want to be friends with me, or even want to be near me for that matter..." She takes a few more tentative steps closer until we're only a couple feet apart. "But please," she continues, fighting hard to keep her voice steady, "will you forgive me?" I glance back at Bethany, and she just smiles. Then, without hesitation, I step forward, cross the space between us, and wrap her in a hug. She clearly isn't expecting it, because it takes a couple moments before I feel her hug back. When she does, though, she starts bawling.
"I'm so sorry," she repeats over and over. "I'm so sorry." She's shaking in my arms, and for a minute, I'm afraid we'll both end up toppling over.
"It's okay, Annabelle," I say quietly. "It's okay, I forgive you."
It is now that I realize that we have more in common than I thought. She was only trying to hang out with Katie because she felt like she had no one else. I guess we were both just wanting to feel accepted.
A few moments later, she pulls back and wipes her eyes. "Thank you," she chokes with a smile.
"Of course," I smile back.
Just then, the bell rings. "Oh, shoot," I say, turning to Bethany. "I'm sorry, I kind of made you late."
"Don't apologize," she replies back with a smile. "It's just English, and I was planning to head over to the office right now, anyways, to see about getting my schedule changed."
"Thanks," I repeat again.
"Anytime," she smiles back.
Once Bethany leaves, I turn back to Annabelle, who is wiping her eyes off on her sleeve. I help her gently wipe off the smeared mascara and clean up a little before we go to lunch.
"Hey, Natara?" she calls as we're leaving.
I turn around. "Yeah?"
"Will you, um... sit with me?" she asks.
"Of course," I say, surprised. "But what about Katie and them?"
"Katie's an ass," she mutters. I can't help but laugh, and she joins in. "Seriously, though. I don't know why I wanted to be friends with her. But you should know, she was a jerk to a lot of people. You're not the only person she was mean to," she adds in a quieter voice.
"It felt like it," I return softly. She looks down but says nothing.
"Come on," I say more lightheartedly. "I'm starving!"
She laughs and follows me out of the bathroom and down to the lunch room. Together, we grab trays with food and walk to the table I usually sit at, doing our best to evade Katie and her friends. We exchange good-natured chit-chat as we eat, and I can't help but think how nice it is not to have to eat alone.
Two weeks later, I sit in AP Physics. I anxiously chat with Bethany as we wait for our tests to be handed back.
"Ugh, that test was a bitch," Bethany mutters to me as several people receive their tests back and groan.
"I know," I groan. "I'm nervous."
"So am I," she admits. "Frick," she mutters as Mrs. Roberts approaches her with a flipped-over test.
"Nice job," Mrs. Roberts comments with a smile.
Bethany quickly flips the test over. "Thank God," she breathes with a quiet sigh of relief. She shows me the paper with a ninety-three circled at the top.
"Nice!" I say with a smile. Mrs. Roberts hands me mine and repeats the praise. I exhale in relief at the ninety-four.
"Smarty-pants," Bethany teases with a smirk. I laugh. "Good job, though," she adds sincerely.
"Thanks," I smile. I turn to my other side where Emma is smiling broadly at her one-hundred percent.
"Whoa, nice!" I say with a smile. "That's awesome!"
"Thanks," she replies. "You did really well, too; you and Bethany are whooping the upperclassmen's asses."
I laugh, then turn back to Bethany as we continue our chit-chat. I watch out of the corner of my eye as Mal reluctantly takes his paper, peeks at the score, and mutters to himself. A break comes in my conversation with Bethany, and Mal surprises me by turning in my direction.
"How'd you do?" he asks curiously.
"Ninety-four," I say quietly, blushing slightly in embarrassment. Good grades were almost as awkward to talk about as poor grades sometimes.
"Typical," he sighs. Like last time, though, he doesn't sound mean. I still can't put my finger on how exactly he sounds.
"How about you?" I ask before thinking. He probably doesn't want to share.
"Fifty-four," he mutters flatly.
I don't really know what to say, so I stammer, "Oh, uh... I'm sorry..."
"Whatever, I'm used to it," he shrugs before turning away.
I exchange a questioning glance with Bethany, but we continue our conversation like nothing happened.
As the bell rings, dismissing us from Physics, I notice Mal taking extra time in picking up his things. Bethany and I are usually the last ones out of the classroom, but Mal looks like he's trying to give us a run for our money today. He leaves the room, but I can see him hovering by the door. As I walk out the door and past him, he lightly taps my shoulder.
"Uh, Natara?" he says hesitantly.
Surprised, I turn around and face him. "Uh, yeah?" He awkwardly glances at Bethany, but says nothing. Taking the hint, I turn to her. "I'll catch up with you in P.E.," I say with a smile. She says nothing, but she nods and smirks mysteriously before turning away and continuing down the hall. "Yes?" I prompt, now that we're "alone."
"I, uh, was wondering..." he starts nervously, "If you'd, uh... help me out with Physics sometime?"
I narrow my eyes slightly. "If you're asking for my ans-"
He interrupts me. "I don't want your answers," he dismisses, brow momentarily furrowing. "I just, uh... need some help with the subject. Like, how to do it, and, uh, actually achieve the answers... Eventually on my own."
"You mean, like... tutor you?" I ask. His face flushes in embarrassment.
"Well, uh, yeah, I guess you could call it that... If that's cool with you, I mean."
"Sure," I smile.
"Is Saturday okay?" he asks, still, for whatever reason, fidgeting nervously. "We can, uh, just go to the library or wherever."
"Sounds good," I reply. "Library's fine. What time?"
"Uh... noon?"
"Okay. I'll see you then."
He nods, and begins to walk off before quickly turning back. "And thanks," he adds, actually flashing a real smile. It's a small one, granted, but it seems real.
Later, I catch up with Bethany in the locker room.
"So, what did he want?" she asks eagerly as she pulls her gym shirt over her head.
"He wanted me to tutor him in physics," I state, changing into athletic shorts and tossing my jeans to the floor.
"No way," Bethany laughs. "He didn't just ask for answers, did he?"
I shake my head in denial. "No, he actually wanted to know how to do the stuff."
"Wow," she says, "that's a surprise. Normally people just ask for answers and move on."
I nod in agreement as we both finish up changing, and head out to the gym.
After the final bell rings, I grab my bag from my locker, say goodbye to Bethany, and walk outside to meet my mother. Upon closing the car door behind me, my mom asks her customary question. "How was your day?"
"Good!" I pipe, happy that I finally don't have to lie.
She glances over at me and chuckles. "You seem happy," she observes.
"I just had a good day," I return.
"How'd your Physics test go?" she questions, backing out of the parking lot.
"Ninety-four," I answer with a grin.
My mother smiles at me. "Atta-girl."
"Oh, and speaking of Physics," I say, hoping my mother doesn't try to read too much into what I'm about to say. "A guy in my class wanted me to tutor him at the library on Saturday," I tell her. "And no," I add before she can ask, "he doesn't just want the answers."
She glances over at me, but keeps driving, easing on the gas as the light in front of us turns green. "Did you agree to it?"
"Yeah," I answer, suddenly kind of embarrassed. "Is, uh, that alright?"
"I don't see a problem with it," she responds. "You're in a public place, after all. Most people don't try anything dumb there."
"Mom!" I exclaim, cheeks reddening a little. "I'm not even really friends with the kid. He just asked me after class."
My mother laughs. "I'm just giving you a hard time, sweetie," she smiles. "It sounds fine with me."