Crowded. Its always crowded in the countless rat path hallways. Students bump and push into one another. Annoying cliques of pupils stand in bunches, blocking the hallways like fat cells clogging the arteries. A tall, thin teen lets out a sigh. His pack is about ready to burst with books and binders.

A few dirty blonde strands of hair fall across his thick, black rimmed glasses. He brushes them away and scowls whilst trying to push past the many students blocking the hall. Two rowdy jocks start pushing one another. The bigger of the two smashes into the thin boy. He yelps as he loses his balance and falls to the ground. His backpack spills open and a few of his books go skidding across the tilted floor.

"Watch where you're going, Doboys!" the large jock cackles. They walk off, leaving the poor boy to pick up all his things. He picks up his books silently. A few people glance his way, but none stop to help. Most of them pretend he's not there. Totally invisible. He manages to fill his backpack again and zip it closed. The first bell rings as soon as he slings the heavy pack onto his slender back. Hopeless crystal tinted eyes look up at the spotted ceiling.

"I am going to be late," he groans as he begins to run toward his morning class. The late bell rings. The thin boy spots the door of his classroom. The door closes and locks before he can get inside. He reaches the door, and knocks on it. The students stare at the door.

"Make Doboys stay outside!" the boy with glasses hears from inside the classroom. He swallows and looks at the teacher. The door opens. Saved.

"Well, I've never seen you late for a class, Mr. Dubois," the teacher says with a raised eyebrow. Dubois avoids his teacher's eye contact and walks to his seat.

"Doboys must have been busy doing boys," a few girls with low cut shirts and bum revealing shotshorts giggle to themselves. Dubois slumps down in his seat.

"More likely the boys were doing him," a guy with baggy pants chimes in.

"Enough. We have more important things to discuss, class," the teacher interrupts. Dubois looks down at his desk. Why had he signed up for so many advanced classes? Classes filled with dumb Seniors. Cruel Seniors with nothing better to do but make him the butt of all their jokes. He grips his hands into fists, then relaxes his hands. After a few more moments of staring at his desk, Dubois opens up his large pack and tugs out a thick book titled "Calculus".

He opens up the book cover and flips through a few pages. He's one of the few Sophomores to take such advanced classes with predominately seniors. Too smart for the Seniors, too distant from the Sophomores. And Dubois... why that name?---That horrid last name that none of the stupid uncultured students and many of the teachers could not pronounce. Page 467 comes into view. Dubois leaves the book open to it and finally looks up at the board.

Classes repeat over and over. The boy sits in each, quiet as a mouse and never speaking unless called upon. But then... history rolls around. Dubois approaches the classroom slowly. His stomach is tied in knots. He walks in and looks about the class. No one is there, as usual, except her... Angelique.

The young boy's heart skips a beat. He stares at her momentarily. The sun is shining through the wide glass windows. It shines through her blonde ringlet styled hair. It makes a shimmering gold halo around her head. Her perfect complection face looks up at him. Round brown doe eyes peer at him.

"What?" she asks. The startled teen blinks a couple times and then shakes his head. He looks away from her and walks to take his seat. He leans over his desk and rests his face in his hands to cover his burning cheeks. More students saunter into the class. Crystal eyes glance up at one in paticular.

A tall guy, wearing a vinyl jacket walks into the class amongst a cluster of students. Angelique's eyes brighter and she waves to him. He walks over to her with a smug expression on his face. Chocolate brown hair brushes back and forth between his shoulder blades as he walks past Dubois and sits next to Angelique. Their hands intertwine.

Dubois wrinkles his nose. Leion, Angelique's boyfriend, is his name. Everyday he walks in and they sit with hands clasped around one another's. Dubois lets out a soft sigh. What she sees in a punk like him, he'll never know.

The thin boy's crystal shaded eyes continue looking at the couple. A flicker of jealousy passes over his eyes. Leion's vivid blue gaze catches Dubois. The sophomore is started. Leion raises an eyebrow, then smirks at Dubois. The blonde boy turns his head from them and looks back to the front of the classroom. The teacher has already started droning on about WWII. Dubois pulls out his spiral notebook and vigorously begins taking down notes. His pace slows down after a few minutes and in a corner of the lined piece of paper he writes...