High school never was my forté. From the people to the paperwork, I was just at a complete loss. I did all I could just to stop from failing my classes. Luckily I was a senior, so I only had one more year of this to go. Of course, maybe if I bothered to doing all of the schoolwork I got, I would have been better off. But I usually got bored after the first problem because it was so mundane to me.
People said I was one of those genius kids who got bored because they found the work too easy. Me? I just think that I had the attention span of a hamster on crack. Clubs hated me because I would join all of them, but be bored with them after a few meetings and drop out. Because of that, a rumor spread around school that I enjoyed wasting people's time. So, due to that, no one hung out with me and I would eat my lunch alone at an empty table. It was like I had a contagious disease and I was the only one in the isolation room.
At home my room is filled with unfinished art projects, discarded as soon as I found something else to do. Once a month I would go through my room and throw them all out. My parents gave up on me years ago, calling me a hopeless case, that I'd never achieve anything in life. I beg to differ. I could win a Darwin award someday. That would be cool, but I'd have to die first. That was the only setback.
One day I was eating lunch, alone, like usual, when something unexpected happened: Someone sat across from me. I glanced up at the person, wary. Usually if someone sat by me it meant they were a thickheaded jock full of insults the probably pulled off of memebase. But it was a girl. I had seen her around school before, but she was kind of a loner as well.
"Can I sit here?" She asked, timidly. I gestured for her to sit down and continued to eat my sandwich. She gladly sat down, sweeping her skirt under her. Together we sat in silence and just ate our lunches. This continued for weeks. She would sit across from me and we wouldn't speak, day after day. But one day she didn't show up. I didn't eat my lunch that day. The next day she was back again, just like normal, but I didn't ask where she had been. She answered it for me.
"I was sick yesterday," She murmured. I nod in reply and we both went back to eating. The next day she sat on the same side of the table as me and every day after that she scooted a little closer until she was by my side, almost touching me. I didn't move away from her.
More weeks passed, the last months of school were coming closer and everyone was beginning to study for their AP tests and other finals. Everyone, that is, except for the wannabe dropouts, me, and her. I never asked her why because I didn't think it was important.
Our hands touched and I could feel the warmth of her fingers. The next day we were even closer until our hands clasped together at the end of the week. I guess she was what you'd consider my girlfriend. Heck, I guess she's my only friend to begin with. But when we held hands we took a step further. It was absurd, really. But wedidn't care. We just sat together at lunch, hand in hand, hardly a word ever passing our lips to each other.
I asked her to the Prom and she accepted. We went as the awkward couple that danced in the corner. After, we went back to her house. Her parents were already asleep so we just stayed in her room. She told me she had something to show me. Something she had shown to no one else. Right in front of me, she pulled off her hair. It was a wig and her real hair was short, shorter than mine.
"I know. I'm ugly," She whimpered and moved to put her hair back on, but I reached to stop her. I don't know why I did, but I did. Placing it back down, I kissed her. It was my first kiss and hers as well. We kissed each other over and over, moaning into each other's mouth. The closer we pressed together, the more animated we became.
Our clothes were a nuisance, so we removed them. Flesh to flesh now, we made love. Sweet, long, clumsy love, but it was love nonetheless. I stayed the night at her place, with her curled up against my chest. I could feel her warm breath on me, a sensation that put me at ease. We graduated the week after, walking down that long, carpeted aisle. It reminded me of a wedding aisle.
Then the girl died a month later from cancer. It turns out that she only had nine months left to live. It's a curious thing, really, that it takes the same amount of time to bring a new life into this world as it does to take one out of it. But our night together, making love with nothing but skin between us, stayed with me for the rest of my life like a ghost. She was my first love and my last.
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