I liked to believe that everything happens based off of fate. That everyone’s life was already pre-written out for them. That you would do whatever it was that life intended you to do, no matter what.
I supposed this was true for me because that Monday started a chain reaction that would turn my life completely upside down and maybe, just maybe, give me some hope.
“Hey, what is that you are listening to?”
I had to do a double take, because I wasn’t sure if this girl was actually talking to me, or if she was talking over me to somebody else. It was then that I realized that there was no one else around. I was the first one at school today and that wasn’t because I was some over achiever. My mom sometimes worked early shifts at the hospital, which meant that I had to be dropped off at school almost an hour before the doors opened. I didn’t mind though, it gave me time to prepare myself for the day and it also gave me time to blare music from my earbuds.
“Oh... um, hi.” I said, pulling one of my earbuds out, “Talking to me?” I asked, knowing I sounded stupid since we were the only two people outside of the school doors.
“Of course. Who else could I possibly be talking to?” She teased with a smirk.
My face instantly turned a soft shade of red, and I started to fidget with the cord of my earbuds.
Man, do I love anxiety. Sarcasm intended.
“Ha-ha, right. Uh, I’m listening to Coldplay.” You could hear the shakiness in my voice, and the girl looked at me with curiosity but then, she softly smiled at me.
“I love Coldplay! Which song?” She walked over to me and sat down next to me on the cold, cement ground.
“Speed of sound.”
I usually kept my answers short. I wasn’t too big on conversing with random people. I was too afraid of making myself sound dumb or of embarrassing myself in some way. That’s what social anxiety does to you. It makes you come up with scenarios in your head that will more than likely, never happen.
“Oh, I love this song. Chris Martin has a beautiful voice.” She said while nodding her head to the beat of the song. She had taken it upon herself to grab one of my earbuds so that she could listen to the song with me.
“He sure does.”
I had no idea why this girl was talking to me, let alone sitting and listening to music with me. She was different from anyone else that went to this school. Her long, golden blonde hair laid over her shoulders perfectly. You could tell she loved to use her hair straightener. She had big blue eyes, which had just a tint of grey to them. Her long eyelashes were coated with a fine layer of black mascara, while her lips held a soft red color. She was thin, but not too thin. Her red top had black kissy lips printed on the front and the left shoulder strap was pulled down stopping mid arm. It flowed perfectly over her black skinny jeans, which had holes all over them. She wore a pair of black Converse that had dark red shoelaces, tying the outfit together perfectly.
She was everything that I wanted to embody. She was beautiful and I suddenly felt a hint of jealousy as I watched her smile along to the sound of the music. Eventually, she felt that I was eyeing her, so she turned to look at me.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” She asked.
My face grew red as I tried to for once, act normal.
“Well, not really. I um, mostly just keep to myself. I’ve found it’s better that way.” I was looking down at my shoes now. I couldn’t even look into her eyes while speaking to her. I felt so much intimidation just from her aura. I could sense that she was staring at me for a second, but then went back to looking out at the open parking lot, just as some cars were finally starting to pull in.
“I don’t think it’s better.” She finally said with a smile as I glanced over at her.
Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People started to play and we both began rocking our heads to the beat. This girl had great taste in music.
I let out a small smile, as we both let the music take us away until the bell rang signally that it was time for first period. We both got up and she told me that she had to go to the administration office, to get her class schedule.
Apparently, this was her first day here at Summerton High. I felt so sorry for her. That was until I remembered that she was very pretty and outgoing, so she should fit right in with everyone else. I assumed the only reason why she even talked to me in the first place, was because I was the only one out here at the time. It wasn’t until the second bell rang for first period, letting us know that we had better have our butts in our seats or else, that I saw her walk into the classroom.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and gazed upon her. The girls analyzed her silently, you could clearly tell that they wished they were her. Jealousy is a big thing when a bunch of teenagers are involved.
All of the boys were staring or letting out whistles and making those obnoxious boy noises that they tend to make at the sight of a pretty girl. She ignored everyone and walked over to Mr. Thompson, handing him a piece of paper. He smiled at her and told her to pick any empty seat that she wanted.
Some of the guys motioned for her to go and sit next to them, winking and making hand gestures. Of course, she continued to ignore them. There were a few empty seats toward the front of the room, next to some of the other girls in class. I always sat at the back of the classroom for each period. I hated being the center of attention, or being at risk of getting called on by the teacher in front of everyone.
There was only one open seat next to me that no one ever bothered to sit in. She skimmed the room until her eyes met mine. She smiled and walked directly over to me, sitting in the empty chair. I couldn’t understand why she would sit next to me, of all people. There were far better options for her.
Mr. Thompson made an announcement, “Everyone, this is Layla Richards. She is new to our school so let’s try our best to make her feel welcome!”
One of the guys near the front of the room, turned around and said, “Oh, don’t worry Mr. Thompson, we’ll make her feel very welcome.” Then he winked at her again while his friends sitting around him, fist bumped and laughed. Typical.
I rolled my eyes hearing the male species in their natural habitat, and then I finally looked over at Layla. She was taking out her notebook and a neon pink gel pen.
Layla Richards. This girl had the power to be friends with anyone that she wanted. She had this sense of confidence that just radiated off of her. Yet, here she was, sitting next to me and trying to make small talk as if we were old friends.
“Can you believe them? Like they’ve never seen a girl before in their life.” She rolled her eyes, and then chuckled. I laughed too, and then we shared a smile as we began our classwork.
I wasn’t one hundred percent sure yet, but I think that I had finally found a friend.
A best friend.