I'm in my second-period class now, math. I'm grateful that there was barely anyone in my first class, which was US History. There were maybe eight of us there; that class is small, and thank God that the people in that class are nobodies.

By nobody, I mean like their the forgotten. They're the ones that don't have a place in high school. They don't mind, then again maybe they do.

I wish I were like them, invisible. I'm not popular, but I'm not invisible either. Even though they're forgotten, they still get bullied, just not as bad as me.

*Matt just got bitched out by a girl-Zach (78 retweets)

*Shut the hell up, I would've hit her back if Ryder never stopped me- Matt

*And if you hit her, you would've been suspended, and if you get suspended, you wouldn't be able to play in the game Friday -Ryder

*I guess you're right -Matt

*I know I'm right, and that bitch isn't worth us losing a game-Ryder

"Ms. King!" someone yells.

"Yes." I hadn't even noticed my name was being called. I look around; there's no one in the class. Did the bell ring?

"Come collect your test, and you're dismissed." My teacher says.

I get up from my seat, grab my books, and walk to the front of the classroom. "Thank you," I say before grabbing the test out his hand and walking out the room.

I walk upstairs to my locker. That girl, Violet, is supposed to meet me there. She showed me her schedule; we have English together. I told her my locker number. She said she would meet me after class.

From the brief conversation we had, she reminds me of Blair, just a little; the way she dresses is weird, what she wears is definitely not what Blair would wear, no surprise, she is a supermodel.

Violet's personality reminds me of Blair. She seems sweet and innocent; the fact that she didn't even know me, and she helped me pick up my things off the grounds shows a lot about her. She's new to the school. She told me she'd been here since the school year started. But she was absent yesterday, that explains why I didn't see her.

When I reach the floor, my locker is on; I spot her. "Hey."

"Hey," she responds. She has a soft but squeaky voice. "Are you okay?" She asks everyone's favorite question to ask me.

"Mhm."

"You'll be okay." She says genuinely. I like the way she looks at me. She doesn't look at me like my parents do like I'm broken. She doesn't look at me like the people here do, like I'm a freak. She looks at me like I'm just a normal teenage girl—a normal person. Dare I say she looks at me like I'm her friend, even though we just met.

"You ready?" I ask her.

"Yeah, I just need to stop at my locker; what was the homework assignment yesterday?" We walk down the hall towards her locker, I follow behind her.

"Uh, we were supposed to write an essay on Hamlet's To Be Or Not To Be That Is The Question speech."

"Awesome, that's one of my favorites; I can write something up. I've read it a million times." She has the biggest smile on her face. We are at her locker now. I lean against the lockers next to her. The bell has already rung, so I know we'll be a little late.

"Hey, Vi." A voice calls from down the hallway. A familiar-looking boy walks up; I think his name is Liam. He has dark skin and a low haircut. He's wearing khaki pants and a blue collared shirt. I've never talked to him before, but I know who he is. I don't know much about him, only that he came to Crossland in tenth grade, and he's on the Decathlon team and the Stem Team.

"Hey, Babe," Violet replies as he gets closer.

Babe?

He bends down and kisses her on the cheek. She's much shorter than he is; we both are. He acknowledges me. "Oh, hey, Jayda." He tries not to sound shocked to see me, but I know he is. I didn't even know he knew my name.

"Hey, Liam."

"Aren't you guys going to be late for class?" He asks.

"We already are," Violet replies to him.

"Violet." He whines.

She closes her locker and looks at him. She stands up on her tiptoes and grabs his shirt collar, pulling him down closer to her. "Liam being late to class one time, is not going to ruin my chances at Yale." She plants a quick kiss on his lips before walking around him. I try to hold my smile in, but I can't. It is plastered on my face.

I never thought I would meet a cuter couple than my parents; I was wrong. Even though I will never be happy, it's nice to see other

people who are.

...

Violet opens the door for me, and I walk into the class first; as usual, the crowd goes wild. For people not to like me, they sure do

make a scene when I come around.

"Nice of you girls to join us," Mr. Brooks says.

I smile and drop my head to the floor. I walk to the back of the class and sit in the seat I was in yesterday and Violet takes the seat across from me

"To be, or not to be, that is the question," Mr. Brooks says loudly in his best Shakespearean voice. He continues, Reading the speech, using his best Shakespearean voice, my eyes stay on him, I block out everything around me and just listen to him. After about 3 minutes he reaches the last seven lines of the speech.

"Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action."

Every time I hear this speech, it sends chills down my body. The way Hamlet is contemplating death. The way he is vulnerable to death, not knowing what will happen when he dies or what will happen when he kills the one who murdered his father.

Will his enemy be at peace, or will he suffer? Would it be cruller to let him live in this wicked world, or crueler to let him die?

"I don't know why all of your faces look confused. You did the homework, so you should have understood everything I said." Mr. Brooks says. His eyes search through the whole class.

"Did anyone do the homework?" He asks. No one raises their hand. I want to raise mine, but it's glued to my side.

"No offense Brooks, I mean Mr. Brooks," Zach corrects himself. "But I think I speak for everyone when I say I didn't understand shit. You just said, He then burst into laughter, and so does the whole class except for Violet and me.

She turns to me and mouths the word dumb. I can't help the small laugh that escapes my mouth.

"Jayda!" Mr. Brooks calls on me. "Why don't you come up here and explain this speech to your fellow classmates. I know you did the homework." My heart drops to my stomach. I did the homework, yes, but I didn't plan on standing in front of the entire class sharing it with them. "Well, come on." He urges.

I reach into my folder and pull out the sheet of paper I wrote my words on. I take a deep breath before walking up to the front of the class.