Chapter 8

                                    

                                          
-Flashback-
                          
I hate school.
                          
I really, really hate it. I hate everything about it. 
                          
I hate the way it smells. 
                          
I hate how cold and empty and gray it is inside.
                          
I hate the teachers.
                          
I hate the subjects and the fact that everything is getting harder with every year.
                          
I hate that they didn't put me in the same class as my friends and separated us into different courses, so now our schedules are totally spun and we don't even get recess together.
                          
I don't have any other friends.
                          
I only have four friends- three that actually go to this school- and it's not that I need any more... it's just that it'd be nice to have someone to play with during recess. Everyone is playing. Playing on the swings, playing hide and seek. Even the three mean girls are playing jump rope, two are swinging and one is jumping. I want to jump too. I can jump really high.
                          
Some boys are gathered on the small field, playing touch ball. I'm good at touch-ball. I'd kick all of their butts.  
                          
A group of boys and girls are even drawing over pavements with chalk. I...well I can't really draw that well, but I could at least try. They could at least ask me to try.
                          
This sucks. Middle school totally sucks.
                          
''You're hiding.'' Comes from a boy's voice.
                          
A boy. I'm not supposed to talk to boys.
                          
''No, I'm not,'' I say, still looking down at the small but full bag of potato chips in my hands I don't have the appetite to eat anymore.
                          
''Yes, you are,'' he counters stubbornly. 
                          
His sneakers clatter on the ground as he gets closer and my gaze falls to them instinctively. They're expensive sneakers. I know because I wanted those in purple and my Mom told me we couldn't afford that right now. So his parents must be rich. 
                          
Great. Another rich kid that's crossed the building's corner to come make fun of me.
                          
''Are you gonna eat those?''
                          
I look up at the boy's face but his eyes are on my bag of chips. He has a head full of curls. I've never seen a boy with curls like that and hair that shiny-looking and skin that golden-looking. His jeans and dusky sweater are neat on him, making him look even more expensive and making me even more nervous. Why is he talking to me?
                          
I shake my head. I was planning on throwing them in the trash anyway. ''You want it?'' 
                          
He shrugs so I take that as a yes and hand him the chips.
                          
''It's full.'' he acknowledges, rattling the little bag.
                          
''I wasn't hungry.''
                          
''I'm always hungry.''
                          
Must be nice. My appetite disappears whenever I'm nervous enough that my stomach is in those painful knots. It makes me want to puke. I don't like puking. It's gross. 
                          
''So why did you say you were hiding again?'' he asks, taking some chips between his fingers.
                          
''I didn't say nothing,'' 
                          
He does a weird thing with his eyebrow, making him look confused and maybe a little amused...? 
                          
''What?'' I ask in a small voice. This boy is making me self-conscious. I don't like the way he's looking at me. I think I don't like him looking at me at all.