Why I Can't Rule The World

No. 8

"There comes a
point in your life
when you realize who matters,
who never did,
who won't anymore,
and who always will.
And in the end, you learn
who is fake,
who is true,
and who would risk it all for you."
--Anonymous
<<<<<<<<<<

Monday rolled around once more and I was dreading it wholeheartedly. I didn't want to face my group, didn't want to try to be accepted again. However, I knew if I didn't just suck it up and sit with them, it would cause more trouble for Alivia and I. Mostly everyone has noticed us talking and hanging out in the halls.

As usual, the two of us were walking to lunch together.

"I'm glad you came on Friday," she said, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder.

"Me too. I had fun," I said.

"So... Are you going to sit with us at lunch today or go back to your friends?" she asked out of the blue.

I paused to think about it for a few moments before responding. I could feel her eyes on me while I stared straight ahead. Eyes that I didn't want to disappoint. Eyes of a girl I wanted to protect. Swallowing, I looked over at her hopeful gaze.

"I don't want you to get hurt," I said quietly.

She waited for me to finish.

"I mean, sitting with them would prevent them from harassing you or I."

"Right..."

"I think I should just try to make peace with them, you know?"

"I understand," she replied.

It killed me to have that conversation with her. All I wanted was to hang out with her and Sawyer, then ignore the people who supposedly hated me.

We didn't say another word as she went to her table and I added on to the long lunch line. What was wrong with me that I couldn't just do what I wanted?

"Why do you want to hang with her anyway? A few weeks ago you thought she was a loser!" a voice reminded me.

I shook my head in protest. I didn't think she was a loser.

Ignoring the voice prodding at my thoughts to convince me I was better than her, I retrieved my lunch of spaghetti and garlic bread. A kid in front of my volunteered to carry it for me, since I was still on crutches.

This week I was suppose to go back to the doctor to get my ankle checked out again. Hopefully I won't be on these arm-pit rubbing, ultra uncomfortable, overall bothersome sticks anymore.

As I was walking over to my usual lunch table that I was dreading to sit at, my crutches were suddenly kicked out from under me. I gasped as I landed flat on my back, my foot slamming to the ground unexpectedly. The discomfort of a cracked ankle suddenly seemed a lot more severe.

"Awe, I'm sorry Tin Tin, didn't see you there!"

I looked up to see Shelly looming over me like a ruthless dictator she was. I promise you if we were in medieval times with kings and rulers and stuff like that, my head would already be cut off because of her.

"What do you want Shelly?" I spat, struggling to sit up.

"Nothing. Just putting you where you belong," she shrugged. "Also, I would like to ask a favor."

"Why would I do anything for you?" I asked.

"If you don't want to see Alivia get pranked again, you'll do this for me," she said, a mischievous smile coming across her face.