Foreign

Ali meets the new kids, and she thinks that he is onto her. Can she keep her secret or will he find out?

    He had long, blond hair in a ponytail that seemed to shine like the sun; and he had the bluest eyes like the deepest ocean. His pale skin seemed paler against his white polo and black slacks. The boy, who seemed to tower over everyone else, gave a friendly smile.
    Mr. Skylark began to introduce him. “Class, this is our new student… um…”
    Poor Mr. Skylark. As he tried to pronounce the student’s name, I heard the boy say inside his mind:
    ‘I wish I could tell him my name. He must be so embarrassed.’
    The new guy was right. Mr. Skylark’s face reddened quickly as he tried to sound it out.
    “I am so sorry,” he apologized, “How do you pronounce your name?”
    The new boy gave him a nervous look as he tried to communicate through a form of sign language. However, Mr. Skylark seemed to be even more confused.
    A few of the students chuckled at the scene. It was funny. The two men seemed to be putting on a comedy act. Both were very flustered as they tried to understand each other.
    The new boy sighed and thought, ‘I wish I wasn’t mute. Then I could just tell him how to pronounce my name.’
    Mute? Now that was interesting. I watched Mr. Skylark write out the name “Bengt” on the board. What a strange name.
    “Can anyone pronounce this name for me?” he asked in exasperation.
    “It’s pronounced like the word ‘banked’,” I said aloud.
    The class silenced themselves after hearing my voice. I was used to it since I spoke rarely. That, and I knew everyone feared and hated me.
    “And how would you know that, Ali?” Mr. Skylark growled.
    Instead of having to explain myself, the new kid, Bengt, nodded enthusiastically.
    “Really?” Mr. Skylark looked at the name. “Well, we are happy to have you, Bengt. Why don’t you take a seat next to Ali over there. It seems she was right about your name.”
    I murmured, “Of course I’m right, idiot,” under my breath as I turned my head to look out the window. From my window view, I could see the courtyard to my stupid school. My ears perked, hearing the male sit at the desk next to mine. The person who used to sit there requested to move; it was most likely due to my presence.
    A finger tapped my desk, and I looked at the boy with annoyance in my eyes. He simply waved and smiled at me. I sneered and continued my spacing out.
    After the bell rang, I bolted out of that class. I did not want that new kid sticking to me. He seemed to want to be friends, but the most he thought about was the lesson. What a complete nerd, though I can’t really say anything about that. I mean, I am getting straight A’s.
    After English was math, or to be exact, Algebra II. I turned into my next class and took my seat. A flash of gold caught my eyes as it came through the door. I looked up and sighed loudly. The new kid, Bengt, seemed to have the same class as me. I really hope he doesn’t have every single class with me or, worse, that he sits next to me in the classes he does have with me.
    He took the lone seat behind me, and I grimaced. What luck I seemed to have. Why does everyone hate me so much as to leave at least one empty seat next to me?
    ‘It’s the same girl from last class. I should try to be friendly and say hi.’
    My grimace grew in size. I really wish he wouldn’t. Hopefully if I gave him the cold shoulder, he will get the hint and back off. A tap on my shoulder came. Really slowly, I turned my head to look at him. A seething glare burned intensely in my eyes.
    His eyes widened in surprise. He withdrew his hand as he seemed to be slightly taken aback by my attitude. His thoughts rang loudly in my head. ‘I wonder if she is mad about something?’
    “I want to pay attention to the lesson so please do not disturb me,” was the response I gave. I whipped my head back around and heard nothing else from the boy behind me. I sighed in relief.
    The rest of the lesson was quiet. I tried to listen to Bengt’s thoughts, but they were terribly boring. All he could think about was math equations the whole time. How dull.
    Finally, math was over as I heard the bell chime. I got up to put my stuff away, and my textbook fell to the ground. I let out an exasperated sigh and bent down to pick it up. Someone had beat me to it, however. Bengt handed the book to me with a wide smile.
    I simply glared and snatched the book away from him. Mumbling “thank you” as I walked away, I heard Bengt sigh inside his head.
    ‘I think she hates me.’
    “What ever gave him that idea?” I sarcastically said aloud, strutting through the hallway towards my locker. As usual, the loudness of the halls grew into dull whispers as I passed by. It was stupid of them to try and be quiet. I could not blame them; they didn’t know any better. It’s not like they knew about my power or anything.
    I threw open my locker, shoved some things inside, took a few things out, and then I slammed it shut. I proceeded to walk back down the hall with all the eyes watching me. It was slightly nerve-wracking.
    ‘Look who it is. The Devil herself.’
    ‘She thinks she is all high and mighty.’
    ‘I hate her.’
    ‘She wears the ugliest sweaters! Just look at the one she has on now! A light blue one with white crescent moons all over. Hideous!’
    I really wish people would keep their thoughts to themselves. It is one thing to insult me, but when someone insults my sweaters it gets personal. I whipped around to stare face-to-face with the perpetrator. He was a homely guy with pimples all over his face. He really should not be insulting other people with a face like that.
    “Maybe you should be focusing more on that horrible acne than other people. So why don’t you stop gawking at me and go put a cleanser on your hideous face,” I growled at him.
    The moment that came out of my mouth, tears cascaded down his face as he ran away crying.
    “Wimp.” I shrugged it off and kept walking. It wasn’t as if it was the first time I made someone cry. It probably won’t be the last time either.
    ‘What a monster!’
    ‘How could she say something like that?!’
    ‘I’m glad I wasn’t the only one thinking the same thing.’
    I almost laughed at the last thought I heard. People really are terrible to each other.
    ‘She’s doing it on purpose.’
    My eyes went wide. I knew that voice. Well, I knew the thought voice. It was Mark’s. I turned around, and he was right behind me.
    I refused to look in his eyes as I said, “What do you want, Mark?”
    He shrugged. “I just wanted to say hi.”
    “Now you have,” I began, “Goodbye.”
    I started to walk off, but Mark quickly caught up with me.
    “What you said back there,” he continued the conversation, “you did it for a reason, right? What did he say to you?”
    “What does it matter to you?”
    “I know that you only said what you did because he said something mean. What did he say?”
    “Ask someone else. They’d tell you that he said nothing.”
    Mark gave a confused look. “But I know you’d only do something like that if you were provoked.”
    “You know me?” I asked was irritation, “I highly doubt that.”
    “We were friends for a year.”
    “Let’s give you a medal for ‘Friend of The Year’, shall we?”
    “Oh stop it,” Mark said, “You are the one who deserves that medal more than I.”
    My reflexes sounded, and a harsh slap was heard. My hand burned from what I had just done. A giant red mark graced his face. His eyes were wide in shock.
    I growled lowly to him. “I did what I had to do. We were never friends, and we never will be. So stop talking to me already and go back to your miserably life with your other friends. Speak to me again, and I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your life. Do you understand me?”
    Mark remained silent. He glared at me, but he nodded as well.
    “Good,” I said, walking away from him.
    How dare he say that to me?! I never wanted to hurt them. I had to do it for the both of us. If even one other person was exempt from my wrath, they would endure all I had to. That would only be selfishness on my part. He’ll see, in time, that it had to be done.
    Rage raced through my thick veins, and blood grew hot. I sped-walked down the halls, not exactly watching where I was going. My eyes were clouded with fiery anger. All I saw was red when I collided with a brick wall.
    I flew back a few feet and met the ground violently. I sat up and rubbed the back of my head, hoping to get rid of the injuries. A steamy glare formed onto my face as I stared up at the wall.
    When I said ‘Wall’, I really meant Bengt. He looked down at me in complete concern.
    ‘Oh no! Is she okay?! She’s not hurt is she?! Oh what have I done?!’
    “Calm down,” I growled, slowly getting up to my feet without his help, “Stop worrying.”
    ‘Can she… can she read my mind?’
    My eyes lit up as my head jerked up to meet his. His eyes matched mine, both were full of surprise.
    ‘That can’t be though…right? It’s impossible.’
    “Uhhh… I have to go to the bathroom!” I shouted loudly and bolted from the scene. He almost found out about me. Why did I respond to him? Maybe I forgot momentarily that I can read minds. Or maybe I am just a big, huge, gigantic ignoramus. I skidded to a halt in front of the restrooms and calmly walked inside. There were a few girls putting on their makeup, but they paid no mind to me. I slid into a stall, climbed onto the toilet, and waited until my next class started.
    In all honesty, I never liked PE, or “Health” as they called it. The teacher was a total moron, and she could not teach worth anything. The most we ever did was play dodge ball(was it really an Advanced Placement class?). And guess who was always aimed at with the ball? It was me. I was constantly thrown at, and I was always the last to be picked. I remember one time, around two weeks ago, some jock guy(how he ever got into AP, I’ll never know) had thrown the ball so hard at me that it bloodied up my nose. Luckily it didn’t break, but I overheard him cursing to himself that he didn’t break it.
    I stayed in the bathroom because I simply did not feel like getting my nose broken today. I overheard another student thinking about how much the dodge ball sucked first period. There was no way I wanted my face to be done in.
    Instead, I pulled out my phone(which luckily had internet) and got online. I typed my username and password into the blogging website. I looked once more at Barry’s beautiful photo. He was just so photogenic. He always looked neatly groomed. I did brush him often to keep him that way though.
    I decided since I was trapped in this bathroom for a while, I might as well add a blog. I began typing:

“Dear Internet,
            My owner is the best in the world. I was given to her when she was just a baby in her crib. I’ve grown up with her and had overseen her growth for many years. It should be no surprise what I have learned about her. I’ve learned how she likes her ramen, how she dislikes loud noises, and how she is indifferent to the socks-and-    sandals trend. However, the most amazing thing I’ve found out was when she was in elementary. Another child stole me and planned to put me in the trash. She stuffed my into her backpack that smelled of old tuna salad, and I felt as if I were left for dead.
            My owner found me, fortunately. She knew what the other was planning and saved me just in time. The thing was, she had told me that the girl said where I was    aloud. I heard nothing from the girl other than denial of  stealing me. The two of us went home, and she confessed to me that she could possibly be a mind reader. Now I know it sounds crazy, but please believe me. My owner would never lie to me, so it must be true.
            Today, a new boy entered her school. She fears that he may be on to her little secret. He is mute, so he can’t tell anyone, but she still worries. What can she do?
 -Barry The Lion”

    I felt satisfied with what I typed and added it to the blog. I didn’t really care if people on the internet found out my secret. They wouldn’t believe it since it is on the internet.
    It was the first blog I put, so it would be the first one people saw when they viewed his blog. I quickly checked to see how many people visited. Surprisingly enough, almost three hundred people have clicked on his link. I hadn’t check it in over a month, and this is what happened. I smiled to myself and hoped someone could humor me a bit and offer some, if any, advice.
    The bell rang for fourth period. Had I really been typing for an hour? I know I proofread and checked over and over, but I had only written three paragraphs. Time surely does fly.
    I got off the seat; my butt was very sore from sitting on porcelain for too long. It really does nothing good for your tailbone.
    I tucked my phone away and headed out the bathroom door. I was slightly surprised that no hall monitor decided to check the bathrooms. Someone needs to be fired for not doing their job. I scurried to my AP Chemistry class.
    I absolutely loved the teacher for my Chemistry class. His name is Mr. Barman, however, we liked to call him “Mr. Batman”. He looked very swank with his usual bright pink bowtie and bright blue(Monday’s color) sweater vest over a white, long sleeve dress shirt. His jade eyes popped out again the colors of his outfits. He never even resembled Batman, but that’s just what we called him.
    The funniest thing about him was that his left eyebrow was singed off due to an “accident”. Everyone knew it was no accident when he purposely blew up a canister of God-knows-what outside of a taco trunk. He was laughing manically while also throwing up due to heavy intoxication. It was not pretty. He was let off with a warning by the police and school, but he always spoke of it like it was his wedding day or something. This man was definitely passionate about blowing things up. Perfect for a chemistry teacher, in my opinion.
    “Class,” Mr. Batman began, “Today we will be blowing things up. Let’s get to work.”
    The whole class cheered as we grabbed our goggles and got to our stations.

…

    I went to lunch in an extremely happy mood. I almost always went to lunch in a good mood. Having Chemistry class right before lunch was the best. It almost made the cafeteria food taste better.
    I rarely even ate lunch. I would only eat in the cafeteria on special occasions, like if I was starving to death. The only reason I was in the cafeteria now was to listen to people’s thoughts. It was kind of hard to do that with all the chatter, but all I had to do was block out all the noise to make way for the whisper.
    I sat at my usual table, the only one that was ever empty. Surprisingly enough, there were no lines waiting to sit with me. I am the most popular girl in school, you know.
    Not within a minute of sitting down, Bengt came into the cafeteria. He looked around, obviously looking for whom to sit with. I really hoped he didn’t see me. No doubt he would try and sit with me.
    Our eyes locked, and I mentally cried. He simply stared at me for a few moments before turning away and looking somewhere else. I widened my eyes in surprise. Did he just blow me off? Who does he think he is?! I reminded myself to calm down. I wanted his to sit somewhere else. Still, it peeved me.
    He had decided to sit with a few people that looked oddly familiar. I gasped. He had sat with Mark, Trevor, and Greg. What luck I had. They must be talking bad of me. They deserved to anyway.
    I observed them for a bit before my eyes caught Becky, the head cheerleader, walking over to their table. I got up slowly, wondering what business she could have with them.
    ‘These stupid dorks are friends with that evil secret stealer. I’ll make them pay,’ I heard her think.
    Greg grimaced and thought, ‘I wish Becky would leave us alone. We aren’t even Ali’s friends anymore.’
    Becky continued to speak to them, but the only things I could hear were thoughts at this moment. I sighed, knowing I’d have to solve this one. I strutted up to her and gave her a shove.
    “Back off, Becky,” I growled, “They aren’t even my friends anymore. If you have beef with me then why not come to me about it? Are you scared or something?”
    Becky sneered, “If they aren’t your friends anymore, why are you defending them?”
    “Because you have no right to think that these are my friends. And even if they were, you shouldn’t try to get to me by getting them,” I said, growing tired of the confrontation already, “So why don’t you go back home and sell yourself on the street some more.”
    I thought that cheerleaders would melt if water got on them. I guess that was just witches because Becky began sobbing loudly. She gave me a weak punch to the forearm before running out the double doors of the cafeteria. What is it with me and making people cry today? I should start keeping track at this rate.
    I looked back at the table. Greg gave me a searing glare, Trevor refused to look at me, and both Mark and Bengt stared at me in awe.
    “Sorry for coming to your rescue,” I said, “It won’t happen again.” I started to walk back to my table when a hand caught my wrist. I turned to see Bengt’s hand closed firmly around mine.
    ‘Why doesn’t she sit with us?’
    “I don’t want to sit with you. I want to leave,” I answered stupidly to him. I kept forgetting that he doesn’t speak.
    ‘Can she really read my mind?’
    “Of course not, you idiot!” I shouted. Ironic it was. I was the idiot here. Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut?
    I ripped my hand away from him and took off out the doors. Why was I such an idiot? I can’t hope that he doesn’t know anymore. He knows. And I have finally been found out.

Author's Note

I loved the name "Bengt" so I decided to make the main male character have that name. ^^