My name is Annabith, and I'm in ninth grade. This is my fourth year in this school. And I have no friends. But that's all about to change. When I noticed a new boy in school, I idmetely wanted to talk to him. But he sat by me. He has jet black eyes and piercing blue eyes. It's like an ocean. So hot.
"My name's, Cory. I'm new and I saw a pretty girl sitting by herself. And I thought, why is she sitting by herself. So I came over," the new boy says. I blush a little bit, he thinks I'm pretty. But I'm not.
"I'm, Annabith," I say shyly. I don't know what to say. His introduction was awesome. And I don't know what to say.
He smiles,"So why are you by yourself?"
"I don't know. I guess I've never tried to make friends. Because all of a sudden they make be taken away. And you'll have nothing."
"But if you don't try, you'll always have nothing. So you always have to try. I'm guessing you move a lot?"
"No not really," I say shaking my head. "Once when i was six. And once when I was in fifth grade."
"Well, you might want to try now. Anything could happen. But you have to try," he says. I can't figure out why he cares.
"Why do you care anyway," I say looking away.
He shrugs, "Just curious. Why are you so negative?"
"Because I had a horrible childhood!" I say a bit louder than I meant too. I was a door drop baby at the local orphanage. And I had two friends, Kylie and Abby. Then when I was six I moved to Texas, and was abused by rich farmers. I had lots of friends, and people said we were popular. But I had a really bad beaten, because they thought I lied. But I didn't. They would come home drunk and abuse me. I finally gave in and told someone. I was took away idmetely. And I came here in sixth grade. I'm in ninth grade. My current mom is a nice French widow, who owns a French restaurant. There's a lot of French people where we live. So I don't really like talking about my childhood.
"Sorry, just trying to help. Maybe you could talk about it. It might help."
"No! I don't want to talk about my horrid childhood with some guy I don't really know!" I say loudly, and walk away. I sit at a new table. It's weird. I'm mad at him, but I have daydreams about him. Well I daydream about everything. I try to focus on eating. I can't. Same during class. He sits in front of me in science. I keep thinking of him. He looks back at me occasionally, and I look away. Maybe I can forgive him. I have to try. Like he says, try making friends. But it might be hard.
I never really tried. At my school in Texas I sat by this girl, and all of a sudden we were friends. She introduced me to people. And we became friends. But I don't think it'll be that simple. I'll try talking more in group projects. And just try. Tomorrow I'll try talking Catherine, her one and only friend is going to France for two weeks. So I'll talk to her and see.
Sorry for the short chapter. I'm just having troubles. Writers block. I'll try to write more next chapter. I have some ideas for it but not a lot. Wish me luck.