Bad Influence - popular girl x nerd boy

12- Lucas

unedited!!

The first time I saw Rome was freshman year.

Brunette and bright-eyed, she sat quietly in the class we shared and paid attention to every word our teacher spoke. She was never the type to volunteer, her hesitant words were second-guessed before they ever reached her tongue, but I could see the participation burning in her eyes. I could tell that she was always thinking, even if the concepts were removed from the classroom. She would have headphones plugged into her phone daily, music transporting her mind to other worlds and giving her thoughts of different places; just like how reading took me away from the real world.

By the end of the semester, her graded tests were quickly shuffled into her binder, hidden like something dirty. She stopped looking at the teacher with hope and excitement, instead her head lowered under the weight of her own disappointment.

High hopes and expectations were thrown into the classroom's trash just as quickly as her report cards.

I never talked to her. Although I considered approaching her many times, I never took the thoughts seriously, too shy to speak to her even then. That was before she was made popular by the girls around school, and after that, I knew I had no chance of becoming her friend.

I watched distantly while she turned into someone completely different. She traded small smiles from across the room to mindless glances, until she stopped looking at me with recognition at all. In class, her attentive posture began to slouch and eyes that once looked straight at the board were glued to her phone. The quiet girl in my class became the one always talking, gossiping in hushed tones. She didn't know that her friends continued the conversation when she went to the bathroom, shifting the topic to complaining about her instead.

When the school year ended, my memories of her were lost and replaced with ones of summer, and by September I had completely forgotten I knew her at all.

It wasn't until I saw her vulnerable at the party did I remember who she used to be.

A reminder of the young girl who reluctantly gave up on herself was brought to my mind. The girl who was there before the boys with swollen egos or the girls with jealous hearts.

Prior to this year, I've never talked to her – at least not enough of a conversation to be worth remembering – but she has talked to me.

Football games are important to our school's culture, if not the entire culture itself. And while me and Adrien were sophomores, the introduction to the sport was an enthusiastic one.

The cheer team's red uniforms were spreading across the field, marking the end of the first half of the game and pushing most of the spectators toward the concession stand. I offered to wait in line for Adrien since I owed him for buying me movie tickets the week before. Of course, since he was obsessed with the cheerleaders and wanted to watch them perform, he accepted my offer as payment.

Alone, I was nearing the front of the line when a hand wrapped around my upper arm. Pulling me backward, I knocked into another person who shoved me forward until I faced three older boys who were a lot bigger than I was. Strangely, they looked alike, with broad shoulders and threatening stances made for dominance. They all showcased smug smiles that told me they didn't care about anyone that wasn't themselves. The boy between the other two stood the tallest, looking maybe two or three years older than I was while the others were at least in their senior year. Despite the taste of disaster filling my mouth, I straightened my posture.

With my jacket balled in the fist of the middle boy, my anger at his audacity flamed. I shoved his chest, hard, as if my touch would sear his skin. He stumbled backward, and although he regained his footing, I could read the surprise of my strength across his face. Still, I was outnumbered and I couldn't land a hit on any of them without receiving one back.