The once gentle warmth and soft sweet kiss

Long are since past but yet I still miss

Your wide open smile set in my direction

Your absolute trust without any question

Now you’re gone because of a single mistake

Now you’re gone because of my mistake

I should’ve kept going, I should’ve kept true

To our wonderful bond, so strong and so pure

“Nicole Summers,” stated a voice, jerking me up from my scribbling. “Am I right?”

I’d been sketching out a rough idea for a poem on the back of a flyer that somebody had been passing out in the hallways that morning before the first bell rang. It was for an upcoming dance, and had I not seen that person uncaringly placing them into any free hand that came within reach I would’ve been slightly offended, thinking that somebody was playing a mean trick on me.

See, I’m basically a social outcast and have been ever since my family moved here about a couple of months ago. It’s not because I have some quality or feature that the popular opinion finds weird, either. I have a hard time walking right up to people and trying to make friends with them. It’d be strange if somebody I hadn’t met before strolled up to me, held out their hand and asked, “Hey, wanna be friends?”, so I don’t want to do the same to others.

As a result of my reluctance to introduce myself, my classmates in turn were hesitant to speak to me. You can see why it was such a surprise to hear my name spoken by someone my own age, who happened to be standing on the other side of the table with two other girls standing next to her.

They were all very pretty, of course, with make-up placed on their faces to enhance their more attractive features, and highlights in their immaculate, straightened hair, not to mention clothes that I wouldn’t be surprised to hear were designer. Even as I wondered how long it took them to put together their looks I became hyper-aware of my own. I already had naturally straight hair, but it was constantly somewhat frizzy, and in an attempt to hide it my brown hair—having no highlights at all, by the way—was always pulled back into a ponytail. I wore no make-up at all to hide stuff I didn’t want people to see, and quite a bit of my stuff came from stores such as Wal-Mart or J.C. Penny.

“I’m Erika,” said the one who’d first spoken as she sat down, ignoring the fact that I didn’t confirm or deny her previous question. She set her trey of food on the table and then daintily flipped her golden blond hair over her shoulder before fixing a very unnerving stare on me. “Do you go by your normal name, or Nicki?”

“Um… Nicole?” I said, a little unsure if this was actually happening, or if I suddenly became acceptable for anybody in the school to talk to me. Didn’t her type of people avoid ones like me?

“Nice to meet you,” she said, smiling politely at me. Then she gestured to the two girls that had been with her, which were now sitting to her left. “These are Heather and Lianne, a couple of my friends.”

“Hi,” I said uncomfortably, not knowing what else to say.

“We noticed that you don’t have anybody to sit with at lunch,” said one of the other girls—Heather, I think—as she daintily picked up her plastic fork and speared a string bean with it, “and we were wondering if you wanted to sit with us? Normally we hang out by the lockers, but today we decided to make an exception. That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not!” If I did, there was no doubt that the three of them would probably consider me unreasonably rude, and I’m the type of person who hates being rude to anybody. I don’t even like to scold somebody, even if they deserve it.

“Great,” said Erika, and suddenly I wondered what the heck I’d gotten myself into.