Chapter 11: Periods aren't so bad

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We were running but it didn't feel like we were moving. It was like a nightmare that wouldn't let you do anything but worse as we weren't a dream, but real life and we were going to miss the bus.

"Guys hurry. It's stopping." Pony was way in front of me and Johnny, but even he was a whole two metres in front of me. I guess Pony hadn't lied when he said I needed training.

It might have just been 'cause I was an unfit mess, that we got to the bus as the driver was 'bout to close the doors but I preferred to blame it on the bus being too early. I walked up the stairs and fiddled with my hair, making my parting into a side one. All eyes where on me and even the drivers one's, I guessed a bus hadn't been so quiet before. It was horrible being the centre of attention and I would have rather been in the shadows and not noticed. Johnny grabbed my hand and led me to the near back where we sat next to each other, me by the window. I felt safer there, no one could really see me.

Nothing or no one really bugged me 'till we got to the next stop. This boy came on and he looked 'bout Johnny's age. He said hi to Johnny and Pony and sat down talking to them 'bout something that I didn't listen to. I just stared out the window, watching the houses and trees go past.

"Zola." Pony said and I turned to look at him. The boy was staring at me in a weird way.

"Ponyboy, she's a Soc."

I narrowed my eyes and looked out the window again. If he was just going to pick up on that then there wasn't any point in me listening.

Johnny nudged me. "He didn't mean it like that, Zoe." He whispered and I turned back 'round again.

I didn't want to get on anyone's bad side and certainly not anyone's who was Johnny and Pony's friend. "Hi." I held out my hand across the bus aisle. "Zola."

He shook it. "Zac." He had brown curly hair that reminded me of Bob's but I got that out my mind pretty fast. His eyes were grey and dark but he didn't seem like the mean type.

"Ok." I was never good at started sentences. "So Zac. Whatcha like doing?"

"What?"

"Like hobbies."

"Oh. Um..." he scrambled for words.

"Zac plays the guitar. Don't ya?" Pony helped him out.

"Oh, cool." I smiled to reassure him that I wasn't some strange weirdo that had randomly started to talk to him, even though he looked at me in that way. "I've always wanted to play the guitar or ukulele."

"Oh yeah." He looked at his hands that were fiddling with his jeans.

"Where'd learn?"

"School." He said bluntly. "The music teacher taught me, said I had a talent."

"Ya probably do." I smiled and that was the end of the conversation. Just like it started, it ended. Just. Like. That.

It didn't take long to arrive at school and I was still wondering if I could go see the music teacher but my lesson was on the other side, and I don't think anyone could be bothered to go there anyway. I didn't want to create a fuss, especially 'cause I was new in their friendship group. First, though, English.

I mean English was always one of my favourite classes. I loved the art of writing stories and poems, 'cause ya could describe anything ya wanted. Like maths though, me and Pony were in a class full of Socs, as it was one of those higher achieving classes.

As Pony and I walked in though, the lesson had already started and all eyes were on us. I ignored them, 'till I got to my seat. The teacher was scraping the chalk against the blackboard and that certainly stopped any of the murmurs 'round the room. It was a piecing sound, like the chalk was screaming in pain and making everyone listen to it being tortured.

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