“Look at me you little faggot. You are such a f**king pu**y, can't even say anything. Are you f**king retarded?” Clayton continued to stare at the table top, but I noticed the fine tremors in his hands. I wasn't sure how he could sit there and take this crap. But I, for one, wasn't going to.

“Shut up, Paul. Don't you have a toilet somewhere that you should be drinking out of?” I said, shoving the much bigger senior out of my way. Paul looked down at me in surprise. Then he laughed. “You want some of this, bitch?” Paul made a threatening move toward me. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and saw Clayton get to his feet, his face red. He looked like he was about to kill someone. I shivered at his expression. Paul stepped forward and I instinctively kneed him in the groin, sending him to the ground like a bag of rocks.

I heard a collective gasp from the kids sitting at the tables around us. Typical sheep mentality. They will sit there and watch it all go down but won't lift a finger to help. Refusing to rock the proverbial boat. Jerks.

Then I heard the sound of the Assistant Principal, Mr. Kane, approaching quickly. “What's going on here?” Dear god, someone give this guy a tissue already! He was always stuffed up. Mr. Kane frowned at me and then at Paul, who was still on the floor with his hands cupped around a very specific part of his anatomy.

Paul struggled to his feet, his face purple with a barely suppressed rage. I gave my best innocent smile. “Nothing, Mr. Kane. I think Paul was about to get sick or something. I was just making sure he was all right.”

Paul gave me a look that could have knocked me dead. But he proved he wasn't a complete moron by giving a tight nod and an even tighter smile. “I'm fine. This girl here,”- (he couldn't even remember my name, ass wipe-), “was just making sure I was okay. It's nothing.” Mr. Kane gave him a sharp look, and I was sure he wasn't fooled by our barely concealed lie. “Well, if you're sick, you'd best get checked out by the nurse.” Paul didn't move right away, not wanting to leave the scene of his attempted crime.

Mr. Kane shooed him with his hands. “Go on, Mr. Delawder. I'll walk you there, to make sure you get to where you are supposed to be.” The Assistant Principal turned back to me. “And you can get to class.” Paul met my eyes as he was being herded out of the cafeteria and mouthed a really nasty word. One for a part of a female body part.

Finally, when things had settled and conversations around us had resumed, I turned to look at Clayton. I had fully intended to ask him if he was okay but was surprised to find him looking at me with full on anger.

He picked up his ruined MP3 player and shoved it into his pocket. He slowly slung his bag over his shoulder and met my eyes with a gaze as cold as ice. “In the future, mind your own business.” He told me. I stared at him with my mouth hanging open, for once I had no comeback readily available.

Seriously? I had just stopped him from being bullied by the resident jerk wad and this was the thanks I get? Before I could find my voice, Clayton Reed turned his back and walked away, leaving me dumbstruck and strangely intrigued by the mysterious new student. It was official I had lost my flipping mind.

Chapter Three

“You stepped all over his manhood with your sparkly flip flops, Mags. No guy likes to be saved by a chick. It's our job to do the saving. It's in the man code or something.” Daniel told me after school, four days after my disastrous run in with Clayton Reed. Four days and I was still venting about his attitude and lack of gratitude.

Okay, to be honest, I wasn't really irritated by that anymore. I was more irritated by the fact that I hadn't crossed paths with him since. Clayton seemed to be making it his mission to stay out of mine and everyone else's way. So I was still talking about our exchange in a desperate attempt at keeping it all relevant, mostly because I couldn't stop talking about him. Or thinking about him.

But Daniel's words were just completely asinine. I frowned at best friend number two. “That is so dumb. What was with the whole suffrage thing and the entire push for gender equality if we still have to bow down to gender stereotypes?” I asked in my best haughty tone. Rachel, who stood beside me rummaging through her purse for her car keys, lifted a hand to pat me on the back. “I know it's stupid, but guys are still just cavemen deep down.” She mused as the three of us made our way toward the parking lot.

“Please don't tell me you buy into this macho BS, Rach. My inner feminist can't handle it.” I muttered, pulling my hair tie from my wrist and scrapping my hair into a tight pony tail. Rachel only smiled and pulled on the hair tie, loosening it. “You're going to cut off the blood flow to your brain if you keep wearing your hair that tight.” She said. Rachel had been after me to let her cut my hair for years. But I liked it long. It was like my security blanket.

I grumbled under my breath, though I gave up on my irritation. It wasn't directed at my friends anyway and they didn't deserve my foul mood. Rachel, in her psychic friends network way, nudged my shoulder with hers. “I haven't seen much of him either, you know. He sits in the back of class and doesn't talk to a soul. So it's not just you he's rude to.”

I wouldn't meet her eyes, couldn't let her know that her words comforted me in some strange way. I needed to let this go. It was painfully obvious Clayton Reed and I were not destined to be BFFs anytime soon. He was a social misfit, a pariah and apparently had no desire to interact with the world in general. And while I wasn't the most likable person out there, even I couldn't work my limited charm on someone who wanted nothing to do with me.