You are my friend

Chapter one


Dear Violet V,
You are my friend, but I am not yours. How is that so? Do you not see me waving to you when you pass me in the corner? Do you not hear me when I call your name? Why do you ignore me? For that is not what friends do.
Though each day I question our friendship, and I wonder why you dislike me so. Is it because I am ugly, fat, and not up to your standards? Are these the reasons you prance around the school with those wannabe jerks, and do not sit with me in the corner to study, and observe the people who pass us by? Maybe I am blind, and what I see is not what you see. Maybe I am truly pretty, maybe I am not all that fat and maybe I am up to your standards, but I am still not your friend. Why is that Violet V?
I remember the times when you were yourself and not a stuck up poser. I remember when your hair used to be brown and make up did not adorn your face like a masquerade mask. Those are the days I strive to remember, the days when you called me a friend, a best one in fact.
However, those are times of the past, times when we were still young and not enrolled in a school of beasts, monsters and preps such as yourself. I wrote you this letter, Violet V, to let you know that I will no longer hide from the eye of the public. I have changed, and now that I have, I will come after you, and make you my friend once more.
Sincerely,
Annette Rye
Folding the paper till it fit in the palm of her hand, Annette opened the wooden door, and cursed at herself for being late once again.
“So glad you can join us, Miss Rye. I wasn’t expecting you to show up until class was nearly over.” Rolling her eyes at the balding, sweater wearing English teacher, Annette took her seat in the back of the room. “Now let us continue, and hopefully we won’t experience any other distractions.”
Tuning out Mr. Durbs monotonous blurbs, Annette reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook. Flipping to the first page, she gathered her pencil and began to write in her messy scrawl. ‘Would you like to be my friend?’ Was all she printed before crumpling the paper and flinging it at the brunette who sat before her.
Fixing her ebony hair and arranging her face into a half way decent smile, she watched the girl unravel the paper. Looking at Annette with solemn eyes, she flashed a smile. “Really, you want me to be friends with you? Well it would be such an honor. .”her perky voice slowly turned into a sneer of disgust. “If I were dead and out of any other options,” Throwing the paper back at Annette, she turned around and continued her notes on proper essay format.
Rubbing her forehead from where the paper had hit, she covered her face with her scarred hands, and shook her head vigorously. I will never make friends. And without friends I will never be able to capture Violet and make her my friend once more.
“Okay now that we have learned the correct format of essay writing, I would like you to all to find a partner and write me an essay about whatever you would like. Remember to collaborate and listen to each other’s ideas, and make sure that what you have written follows the guidelines that I have given.” Arousing Annette from her quick spurt of depression, she slowly dropped her hands from her face and looked around the room. Would any of them like to be my partner? I wonder what it would be like to ask one of them, and see what they say. Rising from her desk, she tucked her notebook under her arm and looked eagerly at each of the forty faces that took up the space of the classroom. Let’s see, he looks like he wouldn’t mind being my partner, and maybe he’ll turn out to be friend material. Her full lips upturned into an enlightened smile as she quickly walked the distance between herself and a boy standing awkwardly in the center of the room.
“Hi, I’m not sure you know who I am, but my name is Annette and I would like for you to be my partner.”
“Well I would if I could, but I’m working with them.” He said his voice thick and husky.
“Oh, Well that’s. . .” But before she could finish the boy had left. Sighing with sadness, she slumped her shoulders and walked back to her desk. What is it about me that people hate so much? My black hair and heavy makeup, or maybe my love of the unknown? If only I knew. Once again, she was pulled away from her thoughts as series of knocks echoed off the top of her desk.
“Huh, what?”
“Um, hi Annette, would you like to be my partner? Everyone else already has one.” Looking up from her desk, she stuttered in disbelief.
“Y-you would like to be m-my partner?”
“Yeah, if you’ll let me.”
“Of course! Um, let’s see. I suppose you could pull up that desk right there, unless you would like to move somewhere else.” Annette said and placed her index finger to her lips.
“No here’s fine, I’ll move the desk.” Showing her his teeth, Annette was overwhelmed with a feeling she had never felt before. What has he done to me? Why do I so suddenly feel so happy inside? Maybe he is from a family of witches and I am a puppet in a series of spells. Though a relative of witches or not, this sensation is a feeling I will not want to soon forget.
“Ok, here we are, ready to get started.” He asked, scooting himself towards her until both wooden tops were touching.
“Starting would be nice, but before that, could you please tell me your name.” Knitting her eyebrows together and puckering her lips she spoke before he had time to answer. “I am sorry that I don’t know, but I have never had the need to know the names of my classmates. Since the first grade I have not had a single friend, for some reason people seem to distant themselves from me. So I have never really tried to get to know any of them.” Looking at the pale wall, she could feel his hazel eyes burning into her face. “So if you couldn’t already tell, you asking me to be your partner was something that I would have never expected.”
The two were quiet, their existence oblivious to the people around them. Picking her plaid bag up from the ground, she placed it in front of her stomach, and clutched the notebook in her firm hands. “Shall we get started? I am quite sorry for my rambling, but for some reason. . . I find it very easy to talk to you.”
Snatching the notebook from her grasp, the boy flipped to the first page and twiddled his pencil mindlessly between his fingers. “I’m glad you have finally found someone to talk to. For you are the only person I have talked to in a long time also.” Pausing for a few seconds to write the papers title he shut the notebook and turned to face her. “My name is Liam Tweed, an outcast such as yourself and a recluse to stubborn to face reality.” Feeling her face flush she quickly covered her cheeks and turned away. How is it possible that this world can produce someone like him? A complete replica of myself, but in a different version and of a different sex.