There was a new kid at my school. His name was Ryan Mosley. He just moved from England. My name was Skye. Some people think I’m a boy, but I’m actually a girl. I deal with depression.
The new kid is quiet. People bully him. I mean, every day I see the bikers and jocks picking on him. In every way possible I try to help. He seems nice, but every time I talk to him, he leaves.
But today was different. Today he actually talked to me. Ryan is a nice kid. His dad lets him drive a nice car. This is how today goes.
I sat on the bus, listening to my music. Kids were throwing paper balls at me and laughing at me.
“She’s disgusting.” One kid said.
“Man, she’s going to be alone for the rest of her life.” Another said.
“Did you hear that she’s still a virgin?”
“At age seventeen? Damn, she’s missin’ out.”
I let out a shaky sigh. We pulled up to the school and the bus stopped. I got up and let everyone else leave before me. The bus driver sighed and looked at his feet. There’s a feeling that he feels sorry for me, but he’s too afraid to talk to the students about it. It’s pretty much my every day routine. Come home from school, get bitched at by my mother and then go to bed. That’s pretty much it.
Footsteps came up to me. “Are you Skye?” The new boy asked me.
“Yes.” I said I turned around to face him.
“I wanted to say thank you for helping me out the other day.”
“You’re very welcome.”
He sighed. “I gotta go.” And the boy ran off.
The new kid’s name is Ryan. He’s in my first period English class. We had a project that we had to start and Mrs. Archer was assigning us with partners. I’m hoping that I don’t get paired up with one of the snobs, bikers or jocks.
When I finished putting my books in my locker, I headed off to first period.
“Alright class,” Mrs. Archer said as she was writing on the board, “your project for the next couple of weeks is going to be reading a famous poem and looking up the author and their background. Now I’ll tell you who your partner’s are.” She began reading off the names. “Skye Jacobson and Ryan Mosley.” The kids in the room began to snicker and talk amongst themselves. “Is there something funny class?”
“No Mrs. Archer.” The class said in unison.
“Alright then,” She looked at us. “I am handing out a packet with a list of famous poems. Please take one and pass it back.”
I grabbed the stack of papers and passed them back. I scanned through the poems. “Now you may get together with your partner and start planning.”
All the kids got up and moved around. I got up from my seat and when to where Ryan was sitting. He always sits in the back corner, staring out the window.
“Hey.” I chuckled and smiled.
“Oh, hey.” He smiled back.
We looked through the poems. “Hey, look.” I pointed out. “Edgar Allan Poe’s A Dream Within a Dream. That’s a good poem.”
