Stephanie: Strike 3
October 25, 2012
Aurelia was nice. Quiet, but nice. She was certainly very different from the other students, who were still averting their eyes and sliding aside whenever Stephanie passed.
As if I didn’t exist.
Stephanie was beginning to get used to the thought. As if I didn’t exist. Well, she did exist, and just ignoring her wouldn’t change that.
As Aurelia had noticed.
Why did she volunteer? Stephanie fiddled with a strand of black hair as Aurelia quietly pointed out the high school cafeteria. It’s obvious that everyone else is shunning me. Did she feel sorry for me?
Well, she’d take a pity vote right now. Pathetic, she knew, but the summer had been rough with only her family bothering to talk civilly to her.
Stephanie absently asked the server for lasagna, still thinking. It was possible that this was another tactic by the other students to ostracize her by giving her a friend–and then, when life didn’t seem so miserable after all, the “friend” would turn on her.
If my brother could hear me now, Stephanie thought wryly as she paid for her lunch. He always jeered at her for jumping to conclusions, for developing conspiracy theories without the facts to back them up. Though in this case, it was a valid idea: Kids (and teens!) can be amazingly cruel, as she had noticed.
But it didn’t seem like Aurelia would do that.
So maybe. . . if this wasn’t a conspiracy. . . maybe Aurelia was truly willing to stretch out a hand to a girl in need. And maybe. . . just maybe. . . after the guiding gig was done, she would be willing to be actual friends.
Stephanie smiled as she took a seat at a table. Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.