I brush my thick bangs out of my dark eyes in the girls bathroom. The hubbub of after lunch echoes through the halls. Girls start to file in. I quickly cover my fresh cuts with my sleeves and walk out, head hunched. "You better leave! You tranny," an unmistakable rings out. Rebeca. Her posse's high pitched giggles almost puncture my force field of uncare. I walk down the hall, "How can they forget I was one of them only four weeks ago!" I'm talking to myself again. Loudly, faces turn and laugh at me in my greyscale fashion sense I developed.
I slam my fist into my locker. The tan painted metal crumples under my fist. Notes flutter off in a mini flurry. A flurry of hatred and homophobia. I don't bother reading them. The bell rings for class. People throw things at me and make snide comments. I bite back tears and press on the cuts staining my grey sleeves a muted black. (should I continue)
I hide my sleeves as the nosy nurse waddles past. I take my handful of notes and throw it into the nearest recycling bin. (Yes, the emo girl recycles and hugs pandas.) One note flutters out from the rest, landing on the tile. It lands face up, in careful, precise script: Don't listen to others follow your heart. ~AJ I double check the name, confused. AJ is the new guy. The tall, blonde broody guy girls swoon over. He was immediately accepted by the populars. So why would he, the hottie, be sending me, the outcast, notes of encouragement?
tear the note to shreds. But my need for any show of affection wins out. I slip the small, blue paper into my locker through the slats. History is over in ten minutes no reason to go. A soft humming fills the hallway. "Addyeline," Stephen's mouth catches on the vowels. I quickly pull a hoodie on before facing my only friend. My eyes can't help but light up at Stephen. His red wheelchair with streamers and stickers. His baby blue eyes. Even his stamper left over from when he almost bit his tongue off. I remember the savage events. Tearing of clothes. A bullet to his spine. Endangering his life and taking his legs. The seizures that followed. The medical induced coma. My eyes swell with tears. "Stephen! Why aren't you in class," I ask in a hypocritical manner.
I am gonna be at a horse show all day today. It's about an hour away from my house so I will write a bunch and post around four. Possibly.
"I was looking for you! I need to show you something," Stephen says carefully, making sure each word is said right. "What is it," my eyes light up. When Stephen's happy you can't help but be excited. "I'm learning to walk," he leans forward, his elbows on his thighs. I feel my face contort with shock.