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A NEW FRIEND

A NEW FRIEND

After spending the entirety of Sunday brainstorming ideas to make up for my screw up on Saturday and missing my weekend Soccer training, I entered the class on Monday with my bag full of dark chocolates and a limited edition copy of Annie’s recent favorite novel.

But, surprisingly, Annie did not arrive until the third period. And when she did, she looked upset and shaken.

“Where were you on saturday's night?” Annie asked during the morning 15 minute break.

I half expected her to give me the cold shoulder for a few days after what happened the day before. Although, I must add that, I preferred this to not being able to talk to her.

“Home?” I replied, a little taken aback by her question.

“What were you doing?” She immediately shot another question, curiosity seeping through her voice.

“Aaaa. Do you want me to be completely honest with you?”. I waited until I got a nod as a reply and then continued, “I was wondering how I could apologize.” It was embarrassing to put into words and tell it to the very person, but she now at least knows that I am apologetic for what I did.

I noticed her lips curve upwards at their ends only for a moment, and back to their normal the next. She stared at my face for a few seconds, considering her responses and finally said, “I forgive you.”

With that little statement all the guilt that suffocated until then vanished as if a curse was lifted. In the moment my body jumped at her and my lips tried to kiss hers, but she dodged out of the way.

"I’m gonna go meet my friends."

***

The bell rang, and promptly the teacher left the class and soon the students followed suit.

It was lunch and if it weren’t for yesterday’s incident, I’d probably be on my way to the cafeteria alongside Steve. But now, I found it hard to approach him and he wanted to keep distance from me for the fear of making me uncomfortable. My boyfriend might’ve planned on apologizing during lunch because I spotted chocolates in his bag, mostly meant to bribe me into a better mood. Now I had foiled his plans by throwing him into a non-deterministic state of if I was still mad at him or if we were back to normal. Nice.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Steve trying to steel his resolve to talk to me. Noticing this, I grabbed my bag and speedily walked off into the girl’s washroom.

The washroom was about to get crowded, so I locked myself away in solitude in one of the stalls. Sitting on the closed seat, my thoughts yet again wandered to Saturday’s night.

There were so many questions. How the hell is Steve’s family so loaded to afford such a lavish mansion and not be famous? I mean, Steve is famous at school, but that is for entirely different reasons. He’s handsome, plays sports, and is friends with practically everyone. But his family? No one knew much about the Millers. My common sense says that they should be a lot more popular given how rich they are.

Then there was that thing that knocked me out. What was it? An invisible force? Can I even call it 'The force' without an attorney?

I don’t know the answers to those questions and many more.

I ran my hand through my hair and felt the bump on the back of my head. For the tenth time today and probably the thousandth time since yesterday it was proven to not be a dream.

The most worrying and frightening issue of all was that after I blacked out, I somehow woke up in my room yesterday morning. I was still in the same clothes and there was no evidence of breaking into my house. I subtly tried asking my dad if he had seen or heard something, but my interrogating skills weren’t good enough to get any sort of answer. What I learned from him was that he came home late the day before and went straight to bed after he checked I was fast asleep.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Since he could not give me a solid time for when he got back, he either saw the impromptu pillows-under-rug me or the blacked-out-by-an-invisible-force me.

The scary part was that whoever brought me in knew where I lived and had a way to move in and out without a hitch. It was a shame that we did not equip my house with cameras. I noted to myself that I should convince my dad to install some in the future.

As a safety check, I searched every inch of my body for any marks, but found none. Whoever it was, wasn’t interested in my body. At least that’s what my investigation gave away.

Maybe I wasn't their type? I don’t know how to feel about that.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a knock on the stall’s door. I looked at my watch and realized it had been a solid ten minutes since I had locked myself in here. I got off the seat and wore my bag over my shoulders. Reaching the lock, I paused when I heard a familiar voice. “Annabelle, are you in there?”

ARGH, that bitch again.

I remained quiet and simply stood there. The girl on the other side knocked repeatedly until I announced, “Occupied!”.

I heard a loud gasp on the other side, followed by multiple giggles. “Oh, my gawd! I guessed right! I told you nobody else wears those ridiculous shoes like her.” said the same familiar voice.

While the girl group on the other side of the stall continued giggling, I simulated multiple possibilities based on experiences and came forth with a solution for each situation. For most simulations, the solutions were common. The same method I used multiple times and gained quite a lot of experience in.

The giggles quieted down. Another voice said, “She doesn’t respond when you call her Annabelle. Call her ‘Hobo’.”

“Hey, hobo! How are you doing? Heard Steve dumped you! Hahaha ha-“

I lost patience and opened the door and came face to face with the speaker. Leila, the school’s most popular girl, stared back at me with glee in her eyes. Beside her was the typical mean girl gang from every high school drama. Including Leila there were 5 members in the clique; 4 long time members and a new addition- Julie.

Leila had the looks for being popular. The athletic physique from being the captain of track and field and the pretty face from her genes fared well with the boys. But no boy would dare date her because pretty much all know about this two faced bitch.

She was a bully and most did not like it. From all the dramas I’d watched and novels I’d read, I thought guys were more accepting of bullying, but turns out my references were wrong.

"Hey hobo, you were eating your lunch in there, weren't you?" Said one of the 'not-even-side-character' girls from the group.

"You don't have enough clout in the group for me to take you seriously. Maybe try makeup, that might help." I said with a poker face.

Leila ignored my insult towards her lackey and stepped in front of me, "Heard Steve dumped you."

News sure travels wrong and fast. Maybe someone saw us arguing yesterday?

"At least he wasn't cheating on me with a teacher." I said.

Angered by my reply, Leila grabbed my hair and pulled my face close to hers and whispered, "I will kill you if you ever bring that up again."

Unfazed by her threats I asked, "Yeah, I will definitely not talk about how your dad has an affair with our homeroom teacher."

Leila let go of my hair and stepped back. Tears welled up in her eyes.

This is the best part about school. Schools are basically walls containing tons of insensitive brats with wild imaginations that concoct painful rumors like it’s their profession.

“Hold this bitch!” Leila ordered.

Most of the members of the gang pounced on me. Two of the girls latched onto both my hands and forced them behind my back, making them immobile. Another girl held onto my waist tightly, leaving me unable to resist. Leila and Julie stood back and watched.

Once Leila was convinced I couldn’t move, she fished out a pair of scissors out of her stationary supplies and held it to my hair, grinning maniacally.

“So, how do you want your haircut, Annabelle Whore-witz? How about I cut it down to about 2 inches right on top of your head?” Leila held a good chunk of hair and positioned the scissors.

Suddenly Julie stepped forward and swiped the scissors out of Leila’s hands. Julie dragged her aside and whispered for a minute. Leila then grabbed a bottle filled with water. She stepped close to me, a menacing smile pasted on her face and emptied the bottle onto my shoes and simply left.

***

I arrived at the cafeteria in my uncomfortably drenched socks and shoes half an hour after the incident. I had only a few minutes left before my next class so I immediately got some lunch, and chose to quickly finish it in one of the quiet corners. While I was in the queue for food, I looked around, searching for Steve, but I couldn’t find him anywhere, so I let my guard down a little.

After a few moments, a girl arrived at the same table and sat in front of me.

“Hi, I am Emma.” She introduced herself with a polite smile.

“Hi,” I said reflexively, unsure how to react to the sudden introduction.

“Emma.” she repeated, as if waiting for a reaction. After a few seconds, she tried again. “Emma Miller.”

Emma Miller? Steve’s younger sister?

“… Oh. Oh, hi. Nice- Nice to meet you.” I fumbled for words as I tried to gather my thoughts in order.

The girl in front of me was a mystery. Until now, at least. From what Steve knew and said about his family, I recollected this girl was 2 years younger than Steve, in her 10th grade now. Although she was in the same school as Steve (and so was her twin brother), I had never seen her before. Surprisingly, neither had Steve. And he didn’t seem to be bothered by that fact at all.

Emma is a cute girl, sharing some traits with her elder brother- like the blonde hair and blue eyes. But unlike her well-built brother, Emma is frail. Straight bangs covered her broad scalp and the long hair tied back into a knot.

"Steve isn't eating with you?" She asked.

"Um, no." I continued, "By the way, I am Annabelle. Annabelle Horwitz."

"Anyways, I need a help from you." The girl said excitedly.

Another person arrived at the table with their meal and sat beside the girl. It was a chubby boy, about Emma's age, with ginger hair and brown eyes. Just as he sat down, he started stuffing his face with food.

"He is Nathan." She said, mildly annoyed by her friend.

"Hi." The chubby boy paid no attention to my greeting and continued to relish his meal. I looked back at Emma and asked, "You were saying something?"

"Not now."

The chubby boy continued to gobble food like a glutton until he was finished and Emma nibbled at her own meal, staring at her friend from time to time and occasionally engaging me in small talk. I reached out to my phone numerous times to call for Emma's older brother, but hesitation got in the way. Soon our lunch break ended.

The girl got up from her seat and pulled at her friend's hair, "Let's go, you idiot."

The boy obliged.

The girl then greeted me and walked away followed by her partner and just before they disappeared into the crowd, the girl said, "I'll tell you about what happened on saturday’s night the next time we meet!"