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## Bully

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```The bell rang and I sighed. I hated but loved Fridays. I grabbed everything and sprinted to my locker, teachers glaring at me, but too lazy to care that I was fully sprinting in their halls. I got my backpack in less than a minute, and I almost fell down the flight of stairs.
As I stepped into the sunlight, it was too bright, but I didn't care. I let the warmth seep into my skin. I started walking as kids loaded onto buses. I passed all of them and the fifth grade doors. A parade of kids walked onto the sidewalks, and I meandered through them, occasionally saying sorry if I bumped someone. I crossed the busy street to the library and went inside. I sat in a booth because all the other seats were full.
I took out my algebra homework and started working, getting more bored by the minute. As I came across a story problem, I rolled my eyes. It gave me the equation, but I couldn't focus enough to figure out how to do 136 divided by 8. Everyone was being way too loud. I sighed and put my head in my hand.
Suddenly a voice came from behind me.
"17," a guy said. I jumped and held my hand over my heart. He came around front and sat across from me. He laughed when he saw my reaction. I knew I had recognized that voice, that laugh.
Niall. My heart was already pounding already; it didn't need the extra stress.
"What?" I asked, confused. He chuckled and gestured to my paper.
"The answer is 17," he repeated. I looked down and wrote it slowly.
"Thanks," I said quietly.
"Anytime," he smiled back. I continued with my math, but he didn't leave. I looked up at him a few problems later. He was writing something on a piece of paper vigorously. He had written a lot already. I looked away, not wanting him to catch me staring.
I finished in a few more minutes and put my things in my backpack. I got up and started to walk away.
"Hey," he called. I smiled excitedly to myself and turned.
"Yeah?" I asked. In the moment he was trying to muster words, I looked past him. Two girls a grade above me were staring at me in disgust. My heart dropped and I looked down.
They probably hated the fact that I was talking to him. Even though he was only a freshman, like me, a lot of other girls in high school wanted him. Bad. His blonde quiff. His Irish accent. His laugh. I had a crush on him since seventh grade, but he never noticed me. I didn't exist in his perfect eyes.
As I felt less and less relevant to life, he cleared his voice, waving his hand and standing in front of me. I shook my head briefly and he chuckled.