Have you ever met someone and you just click? Like you might just exchange a glance in the stuffy school hallways, cross paths at a party or smile at each other in sport class. Well I am 17 in almost two months, and I am yet to develop that feeling. At the start of this year I was known as 'the girl who never talked' or my personal favourite, not being known at all. But as you will soon find, a lot has changed in a year.
I used to think only the 'cool' girls had boyfriends, and that the people like me were less fortunate as the closest thing to love was the stories they read in books. Yet, on the 7th of July, everything changed. And no, this isn't about to turn into some Romeo and Juliet remake by a 17 year old who has nothing better to do with her time, this is a story of my not so desirable life.
I rushed down the stairs, crashing into the door as my sister opened it suddenly. Usually my days start less antagonising than this one, yet the misfortune did not sese to surprise me. "sorry Sol, we are late for school" screamed Alexa in my now caning ear. I watched her bolt out of the door, and while regaining my stance, I rushed after her. The air hit me like a train, the morning dew soaked my now stunned face. With one hand clutching my throbbing head and the other holding the strands of worn out fabric also known as my school bag, I pelted down my driveway to reach the bus stop. Most people would marvel about having the bus stop placed right outside your house, but for me it was a nightmare. As soon as the rusty doors of bus 27 creaked open a wave of voices engulfed my ears, butterflies arose in my stomach. Many would find a bus as simply a form of transport but in my mind it was a zoo full of animals waiting to rip each other to shreds. In most cases, where you sat on the bus was a choice made by you, but on bus 27, everyone had a required seat. It went a little like this, jocks and popular kids at the back, social kids in fount of them, then you have the younger kids, and then, you have me. This wasn't too horrible and in any other case, sitting near the bus driver would be social suicide for anyone who wasn't me, yet John, the nicest bus driver you will ever meet, is the closest thing I have to a friend. A familiar voice awakened me from my dreaming. "hello Sol" John murmured in a tired voice. His grey hair sheltered his wrinkly face, his frail hands placed firmly on the steering wheel. "Exited for today?" he questioned as he gazed back at me in ow. He was the type of person who could brighten up a horrible day, however his efforts to cheer me up were never really achieved. "I just hope today will be just that little bit better than yesterday." I mutted as I took a seat.
As the bus jolted forward I pulled out my torn copy of Romeo and Juliet. I had read this book over 20 times yet I still never fully understood how two people could be so in love. The feeling of love was still un known to me, the closest I felt to love was when I was ten, and a boy named Quinn asked to borrow my pencil. To this day I am positive he was the only male species that has ever ignolaged me. Living at home with just my sister and without parents was bad enough, but when my parents died they left a man named Lars in charge. He was the description of horrible. He was arrogant and cruel, with a harsh frown imprinted on his forehead. His voice sent a chill up your spine and if you went near him you instantly became trapped in his devilish stare.
The bus pulled to a holt again. I gazed up from my book and placed it carefully on my lap. Looking out the window, I saw a boy. No one feature made this boy so handsome. He had that face that would stop you dead in your tracks. His rich chocolate hair swayed in the wind. He had strong dark eyebrows and eyelashes so thick it should be illegal. And then his eyes, a deep mesmerising ocean blue, the kind of eyes that would leave you stunned. I watched in ow as he elegantly ascended the bus stairs. I assumed he had caught me staring as he looked me with a wondering gaze. I slumped back into my seat, trying to hide the best I could. I had never seen this boy before, he was the type of person you would remember. Yet, something about his seemed so familiar.
By now the bus was full. I watched him as he scanned for somewhere to sit. Obviously he didn't have much luck as his cheeky grin vanished from his face. And in that moment my heart stopped. His head jolted towards me as he placed his bag next to mine. "Mind if I chuck a seat?" he said confidently. In most cases I was awkward, but when it came to boys, I was terrible. With my mind in one hundred different places at once, I managed to murmur something along the lines of "yes, I mean eh no I mean, yes you can sit." He looked at me in sympathy, and with a sigh he sat beside me. I was stunned. He was even more gorgeous up close, he had distinct cheekbones and a sharp jaw, and his sun kissed skin made him look devilishly handsome. His smile etched its way back to his face. I was attracted to him with the kind of rich daze that brings a butterfly to nectar. I must have been staring at him for what seemed like an hour because a shade of pink devoured his cheeks. I apologised and turned my head towards the window. If only I was pretty. Most of the 'pretty' girls are horrible. They spread untrue things about people, complain about the smallest things and date only the 'hottest' boys. I never really understood those girls, almost like they were a whole different species to me. Yet, those were the girls that the boys liked.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his voice. "What's NSHS like?" NSHS stood for North Side High School, possibly the worst school on this earth, with even worse people in it. However, some part of me felt like he didn't want to know that on his first day. But the only thing I managed to say was "mm well its loud." It wasn't entirely untrue. NSHS was known for its riots and fights, apparently its common in high schools but I would like to believe otherwise. The hallways were crowded with people, the chaos surrounded you, almost like a movie. There was a couple always making out on the left side of the hall, about 7 feet down there was the unfriendly girls. Opposite of them was the jocks and between them, a parade of band geeks carrying their huge instrument cases. There were the tech kids who never did anything interesting, the art kids who always had paint on their clothes, and then there's me. Not like I fit into any of those groups.
I must have been thinking out loud as he replied with "what's so bad about you?" Now, it's not necessarily that there's anything wrong with me. I have neat, blonde hair. An average sense of fashion and I'm not one of those try hard straight-A students. But, no one likes that 'weird girl with no parents' and I don't really fit in with anyone anyway. I'm not as pretty as the popular girls and I'm too nice to be a part of the mean ones. I can't build robots and my painting skills are about the same as an eight-year-old. I hate every type of sport, but getting my nails painted and gossiping doesn't sounds interesting either. So, I'm left with the option of having no friends. Which isn't as bad as it sounds, although I could use someone to tell my problems to now and then as my nine-year-old sister isn't the best at listening. "I'm not exactly good at making friends." I replayed. Which is the truest thing I could say without telling him my depressing life story. He hasn't easy to talk to. Even looking at him could send your head spinning in 100 directions. "Well, now you have me." He alleged, with a wink. I sat back in my seat. No one has ever wanted to talk to me, never mind be friends. It was amazing news, yet I knew it wouldn't last long. He was hot, which only meant it was a matter of time before he was dating some stuck up model with a million-dollar house. "We will see." I muttered to quietly for him to notice. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't bring myself to face, that as soon as we got to school, everything would change.
