Electronic Affection

No One

  There's this kid I constantly think about. They barely know me, and barely I know them. But they don't know how much they'll mean to me. Shit, I'll possibly even cry for them, or maybe they'll cry for me. I don't know, but I hope they care for me, they way I care for them. This may see as a silly act for a girl, you know, mid-teens and they still believe in unknown love. But that's okay, because they don't know understand the love. 

  They'll shame me for something they wouldn't know. We barely know each other, they don't know about me, like crying after watching Forrest Gump, or Supernatural, or crying when My Chemical Romance broke up, even though it was 3 years ago. They don't know about the person I loved, no that I love, will know everything about me. Since the start, they're going to be here. They don't know that when I'm finished, or that when they're done with me, I'll be dead. All these thoughts are flooding me, but I have to forget them if I plan on going to school correctly.

  I walk in the CTA, stench of heat washes over me, the smell of sweat and coffee sickens me. The seats are too packed to even think of sitting, so I stand, putting my hand in the rubber holder. The bus says and tumbles over pot holes and unfinished work of the Government. It feels like 100 degrees in here, it's stuffy and reeks in here. I hope for my stop to come so I can breath in the air. After 20 minutes, I see Dunkin Donuts around the corner, I reach over to pull the rope that tells the driver to stop. I walk the 4 blocks to my school.I don't see who I wanted to see.  

  My heart shatters inside, but I suck it up. You can't really expect much from people like her. I walk up to my Algebra 2 class, hoping for an easy class. Lately, my 97 in class had plummeted to a 73. My reason to blame is her, her locks of raven hair, curly. Her dark skin, like coffee, and her brown eyes that simply glisten in the light. Her radiance is blinding, she struts the halls like she owns them, I wish she did.

  Mr. Dubick greets me into the classroom, letting me choose a new seat. I try and sit in the corner by the teacher, so I'm able to the door, hoping, hoping for her to come over. The room slowly fills in, seat after seat, minute after minute. Mr. Dubick starts with his beginning of the year speech.

  "Greeting class, few of you may already know me. You all know that this class isn't easy to pass, only people who are passionate for Algebra will get it. You will need this for your life, know it or not. For future jobs, measurements, this topic is easy. You will have homework daily, from questions on the boards, to text books, or on the internet. Each homework assignment is work 20% of your grade, so I recommend you to do it. 15% of your grade is classwork, it's not a lot, but it's something. You can get any extra credit also, it'll be added to homework. 35% is test, of which you'll have weekly. The rest will be projects, every month you'll have a new one. Fun thing is, it'll be about taxes, bills, or basic questions. Good luck. Also, if you are struggling with this, thinking you can't work past it, you work with the number 0. It is the hardest concept of math."

    With that, he passed around our first worksheet and a board full of questions, asking us to pull out our notebooks. "Get starte-"

  "Sorry I am late, Sir, my bike broke." Her.