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What She Really Thinks
She raised her hand, interrupting the lesson on the quite notable Leonardo Da Vinci. 'Funny. My sister calls me Leonardo.' She wore her black t-shirt, her grey and white hoodie tied to her waist, not needed. It took a few moments until her presence was noticed.
"Yes?" asks the teacher. At least it wasn't one of the boys trying to say something inappropriate.
"May I use the restroom?" Of course he'll say yes. He always does. That's why he's one of her favorite teachers.
"Hurry back." She gets up and leaves. Standing in the hall, she takes a right, instead of the left she should have taken. She then turns and goes from the second floor, to the first. She walks out, and into the first floor bathroom.
She emerges some time later. Hoodie on. Earbuds in. iPod on. But she doesn't return to class. Up two flights of stairs; she travels in silence, only the faint buzz from her headphones can be heard from her. There are no halls on this level. None that look the part anyway. But there are books. Endless shelves. But that's to be expected in a library. Empty of anything and everything, except books and computers.
Walking over to a corner, she sits, curled up. Hood up. Head down. Earbuds in. iPod on. Her favorite routine; you'd think she'd get tired of it. But, no. She sings softly to herself. Inaudible to anyone who may pass her. Spots darken her hoodie. Ever so small, but there ever still. Just as she tries to be. Small. But still inescapably there. Forever passes. But it's just that class. A bell sounds. She hears the echo of footsteps. She gets up quickly and walks to the nearest shelf. She scans for a book. Sunshine. Read it. Twilight. Read them all. Footsteps get louder. She picks it up anyway. Then the room fills with people. Some she knew; some she didn't. But none of that mattered to her. With her tracks covered, she put the book down. She walked out of the library and into the nearest bathroom to wait. Crowds pass, the echos calm to slightly loud chatter. She walks out to stand in the hall for a little while.
She stood at the end of the hall, just staring. Leaning against a wall, looking as small as possible. It was all she could do. She would not look into the eyes of any who passed her. Not looking, because none of them had eyes as dead as hers. She just stood. Uncaring. Of who saw, of anyone who tried to stop her. She knew what she was doing. She didn't care. But she never did, and she never would. Not anymore. Not after today. Her dark hair hung just below her ears, bangs flipped to the side, shielding half of herself from the angry stares. She didn't like them. They didn't like her. They never would. She knew that. But she wished they would. Even if she wouldn't say. She could be so contradictory. She liked that about herself. She stuffed her hands into her striped white and grey hoodie. Earbuds in. iPod on. That's her flawless routine. Her mesmerizing escape. She looks down, changes the song. Vindicated. She smiles to herself.
"What are you smiling about?" Crudely spoken words. She looks up; she doesn't see anything she likes, so she glares. He glares back.
"Just your lovely face." He snorts, obviously not believing. But of course not. It's called sarcasm for a reason, isn't it? It should be copyrighted. Not for her, or him. But a spunky friend... currently watching from the other end of the hall.
"Yeah, right. Aren't you such and idiot?" Another one of his dumb-ass comments. His dark eye shone with as much detestation as he could muster. But the funny thing was, they way she knew him, he probably couldn't even spell detestation. So he shouldn't feel it, right? Ha. She wasn't that lucky. She wasn't anything close to that.
"Don't you have to be in class?" she asks. More annoyed now that she has to turn her music down. When he smiles, she rolls her eyes.
"Don't you? You sure skip school enough, are you gonna start not going to any classes when your here either?" She returns to glaring. She was starting to build up more 'detestation' herself. It seemed easier to do here than anywhere else. This place always makes her feel like this. No matter who she has to deal with. But she didn't have time to deal with him. Or maybe she just didn't want to.
"Whatever. I have to go." She turned and walked away from the boy. The boy walks away too, but not before he tries to trip her. The girl flips him off and continues on. She was walking right to where her sarcastic friend stood. She knew she was there. Not how long, but now she could see her. The other girl steps out.
"Hey," she says, smiling slightly. No sarcasm there.
"Hey," says the first girl, not knowing how long her friend had been standing there. Although she was wondering, she would never ask such a question. Their friendship was shaky enough as it was. The song changes. Into The Ocean.
"You might want to put on a different jacket." Her friend says. She stands there, looking puzzled. The girl points down, a disapproving frown set in place. She looking down too. The arm of her hoodie was turning red. Oops. Maybe the bleeding hadn't stopped.
"S***." She pulls off the hoodie and wipes up what blood she can. Her friend pulls something out of her bag and hands it to her. Wristbands? She looks up, questioningly.
"I was going to throw them away. They're starting to stretch and fray and stuff. So you might as well put them to good use."
"Thanks." She puts her hoodie in her bag.
"Guess I'll see you in English," she says. Her friend smiles.
"And I guess I'll see you in Art Class." They both smile and leave. It was the end of the day, after all.