eight

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So I wasn't going to continue this story, but I've had plenty of people tell me that it's good and I should keep going, so I will :)

It's the time of the day where we all apparently go outside and have free time.

I've never felt treated like a child this much since I was actually a child.

Some people were playing basketball. Others were just sitting around and chatting. That girl, Emily was tanning. Typical.

"So, you go to Westman?"

His voice surprises me out of my trance. I look over and there sits Ethan, dangling his feet off the table next to me. His elbows resting on his knees.

"Yeah, unfortunately."

I look him over again.

He is cute, I'll admit that. His lip ring compliments his perfect amount of puff on his lips.

"I would say I feel bad for you, but that'd be an understatement." He says. "That school is packed with ignorance."

I think about freshman year so far. I think about Veronica. I think about my mom. I think about school in general. How my grades have never looked worse.

"Yeah." I say quietly. "It's a pretty bad school, but I'm one of the students, and we're all the parts of the puzzle to blame, right?"

Ethan chuckles and scratches his head. "Well, nobody likes their high school, really. I can't think of one person who has said their high school years were great."

I give him a small smile, then the sun decides to shine in my face. I look away.

"So I'm guessing you already know." Ethan says, looking up at the sky.

"Already know what?"

"About me. You know, what happened and stuff." He says. "I heard I'm quite the topic nowadays."

I slowly start to laugh as I realize what he means.

"The whole school believes you got hit by a train and died."

Ethan chuckles and shakes his head.

"Well that one's new." He adjusts his lip ring.

"Like you said, stupid school." I say.

He gives me a weak smile, and silence endures. I check him out all over again. "How tall are you?" The words escape my mouth. Damn it.

He lets out a small laugh before responding. "6'3 last time I checked. An old group of friends used to call me Wilt, or Waluigi."

I laugh at the comparison. He is quite tall, but also lanky and pale. Dark bags surround his heavy-looking green eyes and that small smile rests on his face.

"You look like a Tim Burton character." I say.

He shrugs and tells me he takes that one as a compliment, unlike the other two.

After another small episode of silence, Ethan tosses a pebble in my direction, causing my head to turn his way. "Yo, it's okay to feel awkward. Just remember I'm not judging you. I don't judge people."

Reassurance? Hes reassuring me?

"Thanks," is all I can think to say. "You don't seem judgy."

Ethan slicks back his messy blond hair and kicks his feet over so they face my direction. "So, what else do you already know about me?"

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