A Life Of Our Own

Prologue: October 2017

I stare at the wall in the front of the classroom, numbers running through my head.

97, 42, 23, 56. 97, 42, 23, 56. 97, 42, 23, 5-

"Miss Fletcher?" Calls Mrs. Rodriguez. My head snaps up and I take in my surroundings. The whole class is looking at me.

"S-sorry," I stammer. "What was the question?"

She sighs, as if retelling me the question is horrible.

"What drawf-planet is in the astroid belt?"

Yes. I know this one. "Sirus, ma'am." I cross my fingers under my desk.

She sighs again, frustrated that I know the answer, and then nods.

The bell rings and the students in my class stand up in near unison, my mind somewhere else, lagging a second behind.

I jump up and head to the library. My backpack's heavy on my shoulders, carrying some of the most important things I own.

2 notebooks, one with 60+ pages of writing, and one with no writing in case I get an idea. It also holds my phone, loaded with games to make me stop panicking, and whatever book I'm reading.

Some dude runs into me, nearly knocking me over.

"Hey!" I call.

He doesn't even hear me, and continues walking, holding hands with some girl.

"Jerk."

I walk to the library and go to sit at the table next to the window, my table, except someone's in my chair.

It's a boy I don't recognize, nodding his head, earbuds in. I tap him.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"You're in my seat."

His eyebrows raise. "Huh? Your serious?"

I frown. "Why wouldn't I be serious? That's where I sit everyday."

"You can't just sit somewhere else?"

"No. I sit there." I say. "Who are you anyway? Everyone knows I sit there."

"I'm new."

"Well, for future reference I sit there."

He sighs and slides over to the chair next to me. I start to unpack my lunch. I can feel his eyes on me.

"My name's Conner."

I turn and look at him. "Mines Cary. Nice to meet you."

"You too." I'm about to bite into my apple when he speaks again. "This is my first day."

"Where are you from?"

"Michagan."

I nod. "Why move to Virginia?"

"I'm staying with my grandparents for a little bit."

"A little bit?"

He smiles at me. "About a year. You don't like generalzation do you?"

I shrug. "If you're going to go through the trouble of saying something, why not just say what you mean?"

He laughs.

"Don't you have food?" I ask, realizing there is nothing in front of him.

"Uh," he stammers. "Not today."

"Do you want something?"

"You mean like some of your food? No thanks. You eat it."

I frown again. "But you need to eat. Here," I say handing him a bag of chips, "I don't like this flavor anyway."

He takes it. "Thanks."

I pull out my notebook and flip to the page I'm on.

"What's that?" Conner asks. "It's a lot of writing."

"It's a story."

He nods. "What's it about?"

I look at him funny. No one's ever asked me that. In fact, no one really talks to me.

"Why are you talking to me?"

He looks confused. "What?"

"No one talks to me here."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, no one's said a word to me either."

I shake my head. "Why would that make me feel better?" I laugh. "People here are mean."

"I'm the new kid, I understand that. Why are the mean to you?"

I shrug. "They think I'm weird."

"For having a spot in the library?"

"Tip of the iceberg, man," I joke. He smiles again. He's got a nice smile.

"Well, maybe we can be friends."

"I'd like that."

And that's how this whole thing started.