Her Hero

Cayla and Brian were two different people. Cayla came from a rich family whose lives were carefree and full of life. She had a huge group of friends and a wonderful (rich) boyfriend who loved her. Where as Brian; was the complete opposite. He was a troubled kid who was failing school, planning on being in a band and would get laughed at everyday by Cayla and her friends for running home everyday from the bus. But little did Cayla know that by running, he was saving the only thing that made sense to him. This went on for months, until one day; he stopped running.


2. Brian

     "Me, te, le, nos, os les. Beuno. Again!" 

     I can't stand this class. Not only is it because of Sra. Strainer, but because of the people. I have no friends in this class. I mean it's not like I have friends in any other class, but this class gets on my nerves. There's so many people I hate in this class, but the one that stands out the most is Cayla Shapero. Maybe it's the fact that she thinks she's the best at everything, or the way she acts dumb because she thinks it's cute. Or maybe, I thought, it's because of the bus.

     I shake the image out of my head. I don't want to think about the bus. I wouldn't take it, but it's the only way I have to get home. And I need to get home. 

     "Brian! Hola, welcome back to Spanish class! Did you have fun in la-la-land? Please answer my question!" Sra. Strainer screamed from the front of class. I hate her.

     "Uhm... les?" I guessed. I haven't been paying attention all class period. I'm too worried about tonight. About home. About her.

     "Mr. Richie. Please pay more attention to what I am saying! This is the reason why you're failing my class!" I rolled my eyes. It's not the reason. I know it's not, but I nod my head anyway and look up to make her think I'm listening and I care about whatever the hell I'm supposed to be learning. I would pay attention, I really would, but who can pay attention when so much is going on. I run my hands through my hair carefully making sure my sleeves don't slip down. Even though I sit in the back corner of the room, I can't let people see the remains of last night's break down. Not that anyone would probably care. I could literally stand up, walk to the window and jump out and the the geeks would keep on taking notes, Cayla would keep on texting her boyfriend, and the teacher would keep on lecturing.

     "No one cares." I repeat to myself. "No one cares."  

     The bell rings and I quickly stand up and collect my books. 

     "Don't forget your homework due on Tuesday! Have a lovely three day weekend!" I walk out of the class not even caring that I have no idea what the homework is. Who has time for homework when they're already busy with other things. I scramble up the stairs and make my way out the door. It's the middle of fall but it's not quite cold. It's actually perfect summer weather. I use my free hand that isn't carrying my books to put my hood up.

     Too much sunlight. 

     I walk towards the bus with a heavy heart. This is the most dreadful part of the day. I slowly make my way up the stairs to the bus and I sit in my normal seat; the first one in the first row, right next to the door. It's the fastest way off the bus; the fastest way home. I set my books down, put in my ear buds, look out the window and blast my music.



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