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Have you ever felt like you're different from the rest of them?

It was two thirty in the afternoon. Hiding in the bathroom from my eighth grade English teacher and her judgment had become an art form. She had told me that my dream was stupid, that I could never be a writer. Biting back a sob and swallowing the bile in my throat, I went over how many days I had left in my own personal hell on Earth. How many days before I never had to come back here, before I could run away to high school and be a different person. There was no sancturary at the high school here.

Everyone judges me in the end.

"Oh," said a voice softly, "I didn't know anyone was in here."

Wiping my eyes discreetly, I shrugged. "It's a free bathroom."

"That it is," murmured the girl with dark curls, doe eyes, and cherry red lips, "That it is. Do you mind if I fixed my hair?"

"I don't care."

"Of course you don't," said the girl as she began to primp in the mirror. She was tall, willowly, and beautiful. I averted my eyes away. Recently, I had begun to admit to myself that I saw the beauty in either gender. On top of the bullying that I already recieved for being smart and weird and for my weight. Well my sexuality was something that I did not need to think about.

"I'm Emma," said the girl looking at my from underneath her lashes.

"Bec," I said looking at her. She was dainty. She was pretty. She was everything that I wasn't with my awkward limbs and brusque manner.

"What're you doing in here?"

"Wondering about the hypocriscy of teachers and why my parents decided that shelling out an obscene amount of money to go here was a good idea."

The girl laughed at that. She grinned, revealing two rows of pretty white teeth: "I know the feeling."

I found that hard to believe, but I didn't say anything.

"So why were you crying?"

I weighed giving her the answer. She could run and tell my teacher on me. But she was obviously part of the high school section of the school. She could know one of the girls in my grade. However, they were always making fun of me, ignoring me. So if she told them what I told her then it wouldn't be anything knew. Just another couple periods of eating lunch in the girl's bathroom with my feet up.

Nothing knew there.

So I told her.

"My teacher's a bitch. My classmates hate me. For what reason? I have no clue. I want to go to high school already. I'd rather be anywhere else but here. I feel like I'm dying everytime I enter those fucking doors. And, truth be told, I would rather spend the last two months being home schooled then have to deal with this place and their lies."

The girl blinked, startled by my honesty. People always seemed to be surprised when the quiet ones are always blunt. She laughed, and I like the sound, deep and throaty.

"Sounds like your life sucks."

"Life tends to do that. Hopefully I'm getting all my suckage out of the way now."

She grinned again, "It's possible."

We stood in silence for several more moments. I glanced at her with her long pales legs and her perfectly painted nails. If I already didn't have body image issues, she would've added to them. She looked at me, like assessing me for something.

"Have you ever felt like you're different from the rest of them?"

"Every day for the past six years."

Emma nodded, "Can I confide something to you."

"If you go around telling strangers your secrets routinely...then sure."

"I think I like girls."

Whoa, convient plot twist.


"That's all you have to say?"

Not really. But, truth be told, I had my own issues to worry about then pretty girls and their sexual identity crisises.

"Well at least you got your pick of the girls here."

"They're all too far in the closet to tell. Besides I'm not sure. It's perfectly normal to be curious."

"Well duh. We're teenagers. We tend to think about sex a lot. It's normal. Promise."

I felt weird comforting her. But I guess I was stronger.

Though I wished for once someone would comfort me.

The bell rings. Whatever confessiosn and connections we were on our way to having is at an end. Emma moved as if to leave before turning on her heel and pressing her lips against mine.

They're soft. They taste vaguely like watermelon. It's so quick, painfully quick.

She pulls away and leaves.

I'm in the bathroom.

I realize I'm bisexual in that moment.


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