Making Friends (was A Story of a Girl)
By minimaddi
- 225 reads
I have never been one for having friends, apart from one time in school when I had a bunch, not true friends though. But all this started before then.
When I was in Year 6 I applied to go to a Grammar School, an all girls school that you had to be smart enough to get into. I took my eleven plus – the entry test - and did really well. But I didn’t live close enough so I didn’t get in and had to go to this rough school which was just up the road. It wasn’t the roughest school, but most people who went there weren’t smart enough to go anywhere else. There were so many bad reports about that school that I wished and wished that I had got into that Grammar School.
I had always been picked on in Primary School but it took a step up from Year 7 onwards. I was above quite a few people academically and I do think people started to pick up on that, but I was so easy to target as I’d always react, and then people would join in just so that the ringleaders wouldn’t pick on them.
Every day was the same. Go to school, get picked on, go home, put on a smile for my Mum. I didn’t want her to see how much I was hurting, but she could always tell anyway.
People had heard stories about me from Primary School, as quite a few of them moved up to the same school as me, so they used this against me. My Mum had brought me up to speak well, and compared to everyone else I really did, so they picked on me for that too. They called me names, shouted things across the playground, and guys used to ask me out for dares and as a joke to everyone, and made up things about me that weren’t true. I remember they used to say that I had greasy hair and nits. My only come back was ‘But nits like clean hair so how can I have both?’, which just made it worse.
The whole of my year seemed to be joining in, even some of the teachers, not allowing me to join in with the class and secluding me for no reason.
Then people started following me home, and carrying on the taunting outside of school. I’d get trick phone calls, but nothing anyone could trace.
My Mum told me it was just because they were jealous because I was so pretty and so smart, I’d smile nicely but I knew that’s not why they did it. I wasn’t pretty, they made sure I knew that.
I took up my break times in the library, because I couldn’t get hurt in there. I was made a librarian so that I could even hide in there while it was closed, and could go into the book closet if I needed to while it was open. It was like my own little safe place. I enjoyed reading so it was ideal.
The taunting continued in class though, they were very sly a lot of the time, so that the teachers wouldn’t catch them. I tried sitting at the front of the class all the time, so I was in clear view, so that they could protect me, but it never worked. I did feel a little bit safer though, knowing it would probably be worse if I was at the back.
I was so miserable I tried to stay at home, pretending I was sick. But I knew I had to go in at some point.
So about half way through the year he comes and sits next to me. The new boy. I don’t want to talk to him because I’m shy, and scared he is just going to join in with the others, plus he’s good looking. Not too tall, brown hair with a tint of bronze that falls in a fringe over his face, but is cut perfectly, tanned skin, faultless really. I don’t deserve to talk to good looking guys, at least that’s what everyone else tells me.
We have quite a few classes together, and he sits next to me in all of them, but neither of us speaks to each other, and nobody else speaks to him either.
It takes a week or so for one of us to break the silence. We are in Science, a subject I quite like. I sit at the front as usual, so it is difficult to talk without the teacher noticing, Mr Andrey never usually notices anyway.
‘Hi’ I whisper. He smiles back at me, and I almost gasp because his smile is amazing. ‘I’m Kitty’
‘I know, it’s on all your exercise books, and I guess you wouldn’t answer to someone else’s name on the register’
‘Oh, yeah’ I had missed that detail; I think to myself that I must seem really silly now.
‘My name is James’ He says this quite loudly and I looked up but the teacher did not seem to notice. Then I realise that I did not know that his name was James, in fact, there never was a James called out on the register. I look down at the desk, he did have exercise books though, but I didn’t seem to notice them before.
‘Are you in the right class?’ I ask, trying to keep as polite as possible. He looks puzzled so I explain. ‘Your name isn’t on the register.’
‘Oh, right, no it isn’t, but it’s not meant to be. I’m here for you.’ He says this so confidently that I’m taken aback. I’m not sure how to reply, so I don’t. I look up at the teacher and carry on paying all my attention to him. He’s quite a short man, although a bit bigger than he should be in weight. His voice is quite high pitched and I see the amusement in this for the first time and let out a little chuckle. Luckily no-one notices, and I look down quickly at my book and start taking notes.
James stays quiet too. I think he can tell that I don’t know what to say to him right now. Why would he be here for me? I don’t really understand.
We leave that lesson in silence and I notice he stays away from me at lunchtime. Good, giving me some space. I think to myself. I need time to work out what it means.
Part 2 -
The next day at lunch I finally pluck up the courage to confront James. I didn’t sleep much thinking about it; what he meant, and who he was. He hadn’t seemed untrustworthy, there was just something not quite right.
Part of me thought that he was quite a bit older, although he didn’t seem it, and the teachers had put him there to protect me. That would explain why the teachers didn’t mind him being there even though his name wasn’t on the register. But it wouldn’t explain why he had exercise books and was joining in with class just like another student.
So at lunchtime, I walk over to where he sits, next to the Science block. It is quite an open space, with a couple of benches. No-one else is sat anywhere near at the time, so I feel confident that no one will overhear.
‘James, when you said you were here for me, what did you mean?’
‘You’re having trouble right?’ He looks me right in the eyes. Gorgeous green eyes staring straight into mine. The look feels soft but stern at the same time, making me feel more perplexed. ‘You’re having trouble with friends. And the others pick on you.’
‘Yes, but nobody else wants to help so why you?’ I ask him. It’s true, nobody else does want to help me, I report everything to the teachers all the time, but they just shrug it off and let them get on with it.
‘You need a friend, and I’m here for that purpose, if that’s ok. Just to make you feel happier.’
‘Well, thank you, I think.’ I already feel a little happier knowing this, knowing that someone is there for me.
‘You are very welcome. It’s my pleasure.’ He gives me a dazzling smile, I have no choice but to smile back. I’m done asking questions for now, I don’t want to scare him off and be left with no one again.
He grabs my hand. I pull it away sharply, and just stare at him in shock, unsure what to say. I realise I’m probably overreacting and he just wanted to offer me some reassurance, but if not then what?
I have no time to apologise or question his motives because a small group of people are walking over, no doubt to torment me.
‘Hey grease head!’ shouts one of the ringleaders of it all. Laura is her name. I call her The Penguin. She’s short, quite wide and seems to have a waddle to her walk. She doesn’t really have a neck; her head just goes straight into her shoulders. I do wonder why they didn’t pick on her rather than me, as she is someone that I would say I am prettier than. I suppose it’s because she’s made it her mission to bully other people.
I don’t ever reply when they shout at me. On this instance I look to James, he places a hand on my back so I know he’s right there still.
‘You been using that deep fat fryer to wash your hair again?’ Another member of the group, I don’t know his name, which makes it worse. He’s tall, skinny, ginger haired, and wears glasses. I remember there was something about him that made me laugh when I first saw him, and now he laughs at me. The others laugh at his question.
They walk right up to me, sizing me up, probably trying to think of new insults, but it seems they can’t think of anything because instead Laura just pushes me off the bench and laughs as I fall on the floor.
As they start to walk past, I start getting up but one of them pushes me back down. The last person in the group stands over me. I recognise him as Paul, a muscle boy in the year above. He surveys me for a minute then laughs, spitting on me before he leaves to catch up with the others.
The spit lands on my cheek, I wipe it off and look up. Panic hits me as I search desperately for James, but he’s not there.
I stand quickly and run to the closest toilets. I quickly wash my cheek and then lock myself in the nearest cubicle. This is where I finally let out all the emotions I’ve been holding in; fear, confusion, humiliation.
After a few minutes of crying I start thinking just about James, and how he disappeared. Where did he go so suddenly that was more important than staying and standing up for me? He said he was here to be my friend, I thought he would be there for me.
After a few more minutes the bell rings for the end of lunch but I don’t budge. They won’t come looking for me, they never do. I hide in the toilets a lot if I feel too overwhelmed.
I stop crying, but my insides still feel all twisted and clenched. I feel like any word said to me would cause all the tears to come pouring out again before I could make it back to the toilets, so I stay put.
Another half hour passes, and everything feels quiet now. I feel confident enough to go and check my face in the mirror. It’s all red and blotchy and you can tell I’ve been crying.
‘Same crap, different day’ I tell my reflection. ‘Pull yourself together.’ I take a deep breath in and out and then splash some water over my face to try and calm the redness.
It’s better, not perfect though. I do feel brave enough to go to my next lesson now. I take another deep breath and head back out to the corridor.
As soon as I open the door, I see him there. I fill with feelings of hurt and betrayal as I look him in the eyes, those gorgeous eyes.
‘Kitty, I’m sorry’
‘How does that make it better?’
‘Just let me explain,’ he pleads with me. I don’t want to let him explain, I want to walk away. I am curious though, and maybe it will make me feel better.
‘Go on then, explain. Tell me what was more important than being there for me.’ I hope he can hear the bitterness in my voice.
‘Nothing... –‘
‘Nothing? Then why weren’t you there? Why did you leave? Why didn’t you stop them?’ I can feel myself getting angrier, my voice getting louder. ‘You said you were my friend, you’re supposed to protect me!’
‘I am your friend it’s just difficult - ‘
‘Difficult to be my friend in front of other people? You don’t have to be.’ I’m shouting now, spitting out the words.
‘No, it’s not that, it’s just, you won’t believe me.’
‘Try me.’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Oh, you’re so full of crap. I’m sick of this.’ I turn and start walking away, down the corridor, but he follows. Why won’t he just leave me alone?
‘Kitty, wait,’ he’s shouting now too, but a desperate shout. ‘I can’t protect you because nobody else can see me!’
I stop, everything falls silent. I’m not sure if I heard that correctly. I turn to him to ask, but nothing comes out; I’m too shocked.
‘Only you Kitty. Only you can see me.’
Part 3 -
I had heard him correctly; no one else can see him. This again does not make sense. There he is standing in front of me, real as anything. He must be making this up. Or maybe he means no one else is allowed to see him, so he has to leave if anyone else comes over. But he’s always in class.
I reach out to him, touching his face. I can feel it, very real, just like his hand in mine, and on my back. I’m trying to form words. I know I want to ask so many questions, but I can’t manage to get any words out of my mouth.
‘Say something, please.’ He says quietly. My hand is still on his face and as I realise this I start to pull it away. He grabs it and holds it there.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I told you you wouldn’t believe me.’ But I do believe him, and I don’t. There’s no such thing as invisible. Invisible friends are what kids have. But it does explain a lot. I hadn’t seen anyone else speak to him, ever. The teachers didn’t mind him being there because they didn’t know, and why else would someone that attractive be talking to me.
‘I do believe you.’
‘Good’ he smiles. I pull my hand away, dropping my gaze to the floor. Suddenly I don’t feel like going to any more lessons.
I turn away and run out of the block, round the corner, across the field and through the gap in the fence. I don’t know where I’m running to but I guess home is the safest place.
I turn the corner at the end of the road and he’s there. I stop just as I fall into him. We go crashing to the ground, me falling on top of him. I roll off quickly onto the pavement next to him and stare at the sky for a second. I caught my rib in the fall and I’m starting to feel it.
‘How did you do that?’
‘I just can, and I didn’t want to leave you like that,’ he says this calmly. How can he be calm? I’m certainly not. ‘Let’s go somewhere we can talk.’
He offers me a hand up and I take it. We walk slowly to a park near my house. It’s just a large field with a patch of trees in one corner and benches in the other three. We take a seat on one of the benches, the same bench, but I’m sure to put a bit of a gap between us.
‘I’m sorry this must be really confusing for you, and a lot to take in. But you needed to know.’
‘Am I going crazy?’ I ask him. It’s something that’s beginning to bug me. If invisible doesn’t exist, imaginary does, but I didn’t imagine him on purpose.
‘No, you just wished really hard that you had a friend, and I heard you. I found you interesting, so I came to help,’ I’m not sure what he means by interesting, but he carries on before I can ask. ‘I’m here for you to talk to. I’m sorry I can’t stop them. But you can stop them, if you stand up for yourself.’
‘I can’t, I’m one person against all of them.’ I’m annoyed that he’s turned the conversation around to me; we’re supposed to be talking about him. ‘But who are you, anyway? Where did you come from? I know nothing about you. And you, you know everything about me.’
‘Not everything,’ I give him a look because I know he does. ‘Ok, what do you want to know?’
‘Who are you? Where did you come from?’
‘My name is James, I am 14 years old. I go to school here with you. My favourite colour is blue, like the sky. I enjoy Science and Art. When I’m older I want to be an architect, design buildings and stuff.’
‘Yes, but why can no one else see you.’ This is what I really want to know. He looks at me, and I’m sure he doesn’t know whether or not to share this information with me because he looks intently at me, furrowed brow, trying to figure me out. After what seems like a few minutes he looks at the ground, fiddling with his hands.
‘I’m special. There are others like me though. It’s like when children have imaginary friends, they really are there. They aren’t imaginary. But you wanted me, so no one else can have me too. It’s like a special magic, protecting us. I have always been here, just you haven’t needed me until now.’
‘So you’re like a friend fairy?’ Seems like a genuine question but he laughs and shakes his head.
‘Kind of, I suppose. So can we still be friends?’
‘I’d like that,’ I finally smile at him. He is right, it’s a lot to take in, but I’m grateful he felt safe to tell me. Also he’s nice, friendly, and let’s not forget good looking. I don’t know the rules on that, if he finds me attractive too, and I can’t think of the right time to ask. I don’t know why I’m wondering anyway, he will probably never think anything like that.
I realise I’ve just been staring at him so I offer my hand out for a handshake, now that we understand each other. He takes my hand, but pulls me closer to him into an embrace. I’m not resistant now, and hug him back. He feels warm, and I can hear his heart beating in his chest. He strokes my hair gently and I smile to myself thinking how real he feels, and so he must be. After everything that had happened today, I am so glad I am not imagining him.
He walks me back to my house. We make small talk, just about music and things like that. I learn his favourite band is My Chemical Romance, and generally he has the same taste as me.
We stop at my door and he gives me a friendly peck on the cheek.
‘One more thing, you can’t tell anyone about me. If you have to mention me at all, I’m a friend you’ve made, but make something up about why they can never meet me. I know you’ll be fine, you’ve got a great imagination.’
‘Ok,’ I nod. I don’t want to jeopardise this, what we have. I finally feel a bit of happiness creeping up inside me again.
‘See you in the morning.’ He kisses me on the forehead and then walks away.
I unlock my front door, wondering where he goes when he’s not with me. But when I turn around he’s gone. I run inside and go straight up to bed. I’m pretty tired, it’s been an eventful day.
I sleep happily for the whole night. No nightmares for once, just dreams about me and my new friend. My special friend.
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Comments
This is a lovely start,
Natalia :)
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