I tried to ignore him as he walked in. I avoided eye contact and I slouched in my chair, hoping he wouldn't see me.
Fail.
He walked right over to me and said, "Is this seat taken?", gesturing to the spot right next to me. I shook my head, with a sigh. He turned on his computer and said, "Why don't you like me?" I shrugged and, when my computer was on, I opened up Photoshop, and opened up a picture from my Student File. On the first day, no one does any thing. We just mess around on the computers, or, depending on the teacher, we do 'Get To Know Each other' activities, which is super lame, because most of us have known each other since elementary. Plus, we're in high school. No one wants to play the 'What's Your Name?' game when we could be goofing off all hour.
"A shrug isn't an answer." Nate said, a bit of annoyance in his voice. I just looked at him. He chuckled and said, "So it's true? You really can't talk?" I turned back to my screen and opened up a picture I put on my Student File last year. Everyone in the school district has a student file. We can keep whatever we need on there; essays, projects, or whatever. "Why can't you? Do you just choose not to or...?" I took out a piece of notebook paper and wrote; "First of all, stop asking me questions. I can't answer. Second, why would i choose to not talk? It's not like I enjoy the attention I get every single day of my life. And third, I don't hate you. I just don't know you, and I don't like people in general. People judge other people, and I hate being judged." I gave it to him and left the class.
The principal, Mr. Jewel, told all of the teachers I can leave class whenever, because, obviously, I can't ask them to leave. Mr. Jewel and my dad were friends from high school, and I've become good friends with him too. I'm not a Teacher's Pet or anything, we just get along. And he trusts me.
I walked around the halls for a little when I heard someone say my name. "Oh God..." I thought as I turned around. Nate. "Okay, first of all, I'm sorry I tried to be nice to you. I'm new here, and I thought we could be friends. Also, I'm sorry I asked you stuff." He chuckled and said, "I talk a lot." I smiled and he said, "Hey! I got you to smile!" I quickly stopped. "Awe come on don't be like that." He put his hand out to me and said, "Come on, let's go back to class."I gave him a 'I'm-SO-not-taking-your-hand' look and he put his hand down as we walked back to class.
Sure, you can say I have an attitude. You wouldn't be wrong. I just don't understand why people are so nice all the time. Doesn't it get tiring? At a young age, after my parents found out about my problem, I became very good at giving looks. My parents could tell what I wanted by the way I looked at them. Well, my mom could tell. My dad wasn't very good at decoding what I wanted. My mom and I always had this special bond. When I would come home crying because some girl made fun of me, she'd take me to this little town with a ton of shops, and we would spend the rest of the day shopping. She'd tell me about her day, then ask me yes or no question about mine. She understood me. And I loved it.
When Nate and I got back to class, I continued my project. I had this picture of a coffee mug. The mug itself was white with blue and pink flowers on it. I made the whole picture black-and-white, then added the color back to the flowers. Nate looked over when I was done and said, "That's sweet. How'd you do that?" I spent the rest of the class showing him how it worked. At the bell, he asked, "Can I see your schedule?" I gave it to him and he smiled. "I guess I'll be walking you to the rest of your classes?" I looked at his schdeule; we had all the same classes. I rolled my eyes and walked out.
This was going to be a very long day.
