I had a terrible third period today. Someone asked me to move over--you guessed it--so her friend could sit where she always does. I said no because I was tired of being told where to sit. My mistake was going to my teacher. She got us all out in the hall and talked to us about it.
All I've wanted this year is to be talked to like one of them, to be friends. How can they write poems that say how much a friend means to them or that God loves everyone and not even realize that I want to be a part of that?