I hate when people looked at me. I put my head down and poke at her hair with my pencil again.
The girl turns around and her lips curl up. Was she smiling at me? Maybe she was nice. Maybe we’d be friends.
It would be nice to have a friend. I don’t think I ever had one before.
“What the fuck is your problem?” she asks, her lips still looking like a smile.
I frown, not understanding her question.
“Your hair was on my desk,” I said. She is pretty. I like the way she looked. Except for the metal in her eyebrow and her nose. Those aren’t pretty. Why did she put them there?
I point at the ring in her bottom lip. “Why did you do that?” I ask her.
The girl’s lip curls again. I can’t tell if she is smiling now.
“None of your business,freak,”she spits out.
I rock back in my seat. She isn’t smiling. She doesn’t want to be my friend. She is really mean.
I put my head down and tuck my hands into my lap, rubbing them furiously.
“What are you doing? Jerking off?” she asked me, her voice sounding not nice at all.
She leans down and looks under my desk to where I am rubbing my hands. Up and down. Over and over again.
“Fucking freak,” she hisses before turning around. And then she lifts her long purple hair and drapes it all over my desk.
I try poking it with my pencil but she keeps shaking it back in place. It covers my book and papers.
“Move your hair!” I yell, knocking my book off the desk and onto the floor.
The room is silent.
Everyone is looking at me.
I hate when they look at me.
“Mr. Hendrick, I think you need to leave,” Mr. Goodwin said, pointing to the door. Keeping my head down I leave the room. But I look at the purple haired girl before I do.
This time Iknowshe is smiling at me.
-Ellie-
I laughed. An honest to god laugh. The hairy body pressed into me, a long, slobbery tongue darting out between black lips.
I nuzzled my face down into the furry neck and let myself smile. This was the only place I let myself do that.
The large dog bounded out of my arms and ran to fetch the rubber toy I had thrown. I grinned like a mad woman as I watched the light brown furry thing shake the toy in his mouth before bringing it back to me and dropping it on the ground at my feet.
“Good boy,” I cooed, scratching a spot behind his floppy ear.
“You should adopt him. You’re the only one he listens to,” a voice said from behind me. My smile dropped but my hand kept scratching the spot behind the dog’s ear.
“I don’t have time for a dog,” I said gruffly, forcing myself to remove my hand from the inviting warmth of fur.
Erin Hoffman, the director of the Wellsburg Animal shelter, gave me a smile that I didn’t return. She was about ten years older than I was and lived for her job. Good for her. I could admit, even to myself, that it would be nice to be dedicated to something…anything…like that.
I rarely said much during my volunteer hours at the shelter. Erin and I had only engaged in minimal exchanges. It’s not like I was there out of the goodness of my heart.
