The Awkward One (Short Story)

"You don't want to be seen talking to me." She told him. "Why not?" He asked. "They don't like me very much." She replied. "And why is that? There's nothing wrong with you." The new boy smiled. "No, there isn't. I'm just a bit awkward." Taylor is a fifteen year old girl at a rich California boarding school. Kids don't exactly like her, and she can't do anything about it. Gabriel is the new boy. He is instantly popular, and doesn't understand the rules that involve 'The Awkward One.' When it comes down to it, who will Gabriel choose? Will he choose the populars, or Taylor?

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1. One

Taylor's POV

I walk around front, to the shady oak tree. I pull out my lunch and eat, staring off in the distance. This is my daily lunch routine. Most kids eat in the cafeteria, but I don't have many friends.

I'm a little too smart for them. I'm a little too.. Awkward. I'm known as 'The Awkward One.' Basically, don't hang out with me, and your social reputation will be all right.

I finish my lunch as the bell rings. I throw away the paper bag, and start walking across campus to my music class. I get up, and I'm halfway there when Dean Jones stops me. "Taylor, can you show Gabriel around campus? He has a few of your same classes.

I can't turn down the dean. I nod and jerk my head to the side. "Follow me." We head off, and I see girls whispering and pointing. I ignore them as usual. "Hi, I'm Gabe." He introduces himself.

"Taylor." We arrive at the building, and I decide that I should tell him. "You don't want to be seen talking to me." I tell him. "Why not?" He asks. "They don't like me very much." I reply. "And why is that? There's nothing wrong with you." The new boy smiles. "No, there isn't. I'm just a bit awkward."

I walk into the room and take my usual isolated seat in the back of the class. "Hello, I'm Mr. Skeie, but go ahead and call me Brandon." He introduces himself to Gabriel, and tells him to sit wherever. The popular girls invite him to sit with them, and of course he does.

"Just be careful.. You don't wanna be seen with her." They point at me, and I overhear their conversation. I just shrug it off, and tap on the desk. Before I know it, class is over, and everyone else leaves to go back to their dorms.

"Taylor, is everything okay?" Brandon asks. I nod. "I'm alright." I put the rest of my stuff into my backpack, and he stops me. "If you need anyone, I'm here." He smiles. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. So when's your next YouTube video going to be up?" I ask, changing the subject. "Monday. A cover of All About That Bass." He grins. "I can't wait to hear it." I tell him.

Brandon is a young teacher, and he's my only friend. I eat lunch with him on Wednesdays. He walks around with me at our field trips. Plus, we cover some stuff together sometimes, just for fun. "Well, I have to go. Bye, Brandon." I wave and walk back to my dorm. "Taylor!" I hear someone call. It's probably another Taylor. "Taylor! Taylor Jackson!" I turn around, confused. New boy. I'm not ruining him.

I continue to walk to my dorm, but he sprints to me. "Why didn't you wait?" He asks. "I'm not going to ruin your reputation." I tell him. "There's nothing wrong with you!" He exclaims. "I told you, I'm kinda awkward." I speed walk back to my dorm, leaving him dumbfounded. I'm the only one without a roommate.

That's okay. I don't need one. I throw my bag on the bed, and I change into sweatpants and a t-shirt. I get out my books and start to study. After about ten minutes, there's a knock. That's weird. I open the door, to reveal the blue eyed boy. "Gabriel, please. I'm not going to be the reason you aren't popular." I say, exasperated.

"Please. Can't we be friends?" He holds out an apple. "Truce? I didn't have that much money on me at the moment, that's all I could afford from the campus shop." He explains. "Snow White was poisoned by an apple." I say. "Taylor Jackson won't be." He says. I take the apple, and sit back on my bed. "Come on in." I tell him. He walks in, closing the door behind him.

"Whatcha doin?" He asks. "Studying." I continue to go through my notes. "Noooooo!" He grabs my books, placing them, and my notes, on the floor, then kicking them under my bed. "Hey!" I shout. "We're friends now. We don't know anything about each other. So we're going to play 21 questions." He says. "Favorite color?" He asks. "Blue. What about you?" I respond. "Green." We go on like this until curfew, and he leaves out the window.

"Good night, Rapunzel." He teases. "Good night."

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