so I'm like debating who I should dedicate this to. (Dear Wattpad Readers, I shall dedicate a chapter to every single one of my fans but as of now, I'm trying to get all my facebook friends who have supported me a chapter since well I like persoanlly know them and all ya know?) This goes to my amazing sopranno buddy who my singing teacher hates. I think her voice is beautiful along with her acting and dancing. This girl is super talented on the stage. She is so supportive and nice and caring and I'm so glad I got to know her better this summer. So this one's to you!!! <3__________________________________________________________
August 26th
I walk in silence next to Rosalie. It’s not like I could talk anyway, but it was still pretty awkward. I mean why was she leaving Lee her best friend all alone? Lee would be pissed at lunch. I smiled to myself at the sight of a follower ditching Lee to hang out with someone like me. Someone like me.
“I bet you’re wondering why I’m here with you.” Rosalie says, staring straight ahead. I nod my head. “Lee’s getting annoying. I guess I wanted to fit in. but now it seems like that’s what I need to stop. They don’t get me there. In fact, they’re all annoying little bitches if you ask me.” I smile. Finally someone gets me.
“I’m sorry they treat you so badly.” She says in a hushed tone. I guess she didn’t want to be seen talking to a loser like me. My heart sinks. If you think they treat me so badly, DO SOMETHING!!!
Once again, another deep lesson from Emma Walters. People always see someone getting picked on. It happens every day, whether online, in an alley, or in front of everyone. Someone is always there; someone always knows what’s going on. So what do they do? N.o.t.h.i.n.g. that’s what. And then when something happens and they feel that little tug that tells them to do something, they do the lamest thing. They say sorry and they’re just mean people. Well if you know they’re mean people, why don’t you STAND UP FOR THE PERSON WHO’S GETTING TREATED BADLY!!!! And I’m not the only victim. There’s tons of kids! If I could talk, every time someone picked on a “loser,” I’d stand up for that kid.
Cause guess what? They’re not losers! In fact they’re better, nicer, smarter, and all around more amazing than the kid that’s picking on them. The “losers” have enough courage not to stoop down to that level. Those kids have enough humility just to let them do whatever. It’s easier to pick on someone than it is to be picked on. And for those kids who don’t do anything to stop it, how would you feel if someone was picking on you and no one did anything to help? That’s how they feel.
It’s not like I’m expecting someone to come and save me. I never will. But, do I hope for that dream to come true every once in a while? Well, we all are allowed to dream…
I hang out sometimes with the gothic kids, or the emos, or the outcasts. They’re more popular than I am. But they still accept me. They don’t listen, but they’re there. They’re supportive. And that’s what I want. And maybe eventually, we’ll be friends. But I can’t think about that now. I’ve got too many things to worry about. Starting with the possibility of having a real friend, Rosalie.
I walk to my usual seat in the courtyard under the big oak tree. All the other kids are scattered around the campus. The popular kids, or Royal Family as I call them, sit in the cafeteria. There a few of the other wannabe kids who sit nearby, fawning over everything Lee says. How pathetic. A lot of the soccer and lacrosse kids are out on the field, chewing on chips and running around. The nerds have their noses shoved into books, studying for tests that are three weeks away. Cheerleaders and dancers are practicing routines for their football boyfriends who are only interested in what’s under their skirts. The skaters and druggies are around the back of the school, smoking God only knows what. And finally, there’s the outcasts, consisting of: emo kids, Goths, and the other kids who write and paint. Yeah, the kids who are deep are considered outcasts. Well, I’d rather be a deep outcast than an idiotic popular kid.
But the other kids don’t see how awesome we are. In fact everyone wants to be popular. I personally don’t wanna.
But that’s just me.
I pull out my lunchbox and find a slice of birthday cake. Oh God…I almost forgot. Today, August 26th, is my birthday. I’m turning sixteen today… sweet sixteen. Not really though. I shrug and just pull it out. What could possibly go wrong?
“Hey!” one of the writers, Emmet, asks. “What’s that for?”
“Isn’t it Emma’s birthday?” Sunshine, an artist asks. Great, they’ve put two and two together.
The group shouts a happy birthday and the song begins. It’s hilarious when everyone is singing the happy birthday song to you and you’re just awkwardly sitting there, not too sure what to do. That’s how I felt right there. And I smiled and forced myself to meet each kid’s happy gaze and nod my head in appreciation. Quickly, I cast my gaze back down to the cake. It’s vanilla with chocolate frosting. A shadow falls over us and I see a familiar pair of jeans. It’s Rosalie. She’s sitting with us.
“Whose birthday is it?” she asks.
Everyone answers, Emma. Great. Not another birthday song.
“Happy birthday, Emma!” Rosalie says in a sing-song voice.
“So what are you doing here?” Grant, a Goth, asks. His spiky blue-black hair is perfectly jelled, as usual.
“I got sick of the other kids.” Rosalie mumbles with a shrug. The outcasts gasp in unison.
“You got sick of them?” Natasha, an emo, asks, perplexed. Normally, the Royal Family gets sick of you, and then you find yourself on the outskirts.
Rosalie nods her head. “Especially the whole Rosie thing. Seriously, I hate that nickname. My name is Rosalie. I don’t like being seen as the preppy annoying Rosie.” The group nods and expresses their approval. I smile. Maybe she does fit in with us.
“But what about Lee? She’s gonna kill you when she sees you’re with us.” Rachel, a writer, asks. She used to be a part of Lee’s group. When she saw the way those girls treated outcasts, she left. Since then, those girls have never been the same towards Rachel. I kinda feel bad for her…
“Rosie!” Lee calls, waving her arms. She runs to us and her nose scrunches in disgust. “Why are you with them?” she demands, sounding offended.
“I wanted a break.” Rosalie responds, not even looking at Lee.
“Well your break is over. C’mon, we gotta go. You still haven’t told us about the teacher scene…” her voice trailed off and she yanked Rosalie up. She frowned in protest, but let Lee drag her away.
“I guess she didn’t really wanna hang with us, huh.” Natalie mumbles, sounding disappointed. I shrug. “But don’t let that ruin your birthday, Emma!” she quickly says, trying to perk up.
I shrug again. It doesn’t matter. My birthday is just another day of the year. I don’t want people to fuss over me or get me things. Grant stretches and stands as the others around the tree join in.
“Sadly we gotta get back to class.” He groans, shuffling away.
“We’ve got two years left!” Rachel shouts, running from the group. Oh crap. We’re late…
Well I don’t have to go to class. I get to go to dance. I take my lunchbox and bag full of books and dance stuff and run to the auditorium. For the first time, I smile because I’m happy. Really happy.
I can’t get rid of the feeling that someone’s watching me as I run into the cool auditorium.
YOU ARE READING
Unspoken
RomanceEmma is a normal fifteen year old girl with normal fifteen year old problems. She likes boys, she loves to dance, she wans to go to the parties, you know? She wants to be the popular girl. It's kinda hard when you can't talk.
