credit movie poster @-verdant-

"If I can't be beautiful, I want to be invisible."

― Chuck Palahniuk

()()()

Zanna.

My day had been like any normal day.

- get out of bed

- get dressed for school

- brush teeth

- wait for the school bus

I hated school.

School was the constant reminder that I wasn't going to fit-in anywhere in life.

It didn't help that I didn't fit-in with any crowd.

The jocks thought I was a fishwife (a shrew) because I didn't say much, and perhaps I suffered from the resting bitch-face syndrome. Not that I meant to give off that face. I just had one of those faces. Then because of that, the popular girls didn't look at me much as a girl's girl, plus the weird/scene/emo crowd had this notion that I thought I was better than everyone else—which wasn't true.

I really wanted that group of friends to hang out with at school. But I didn't even have that. I was just Zanna Purgeth, the girl who was still new after three years of going here. No one really knew me—not that anyone ever sat down and ever tried to get to know me.

If all, I was just a waste of space at this school. A waste of space that clearly was invisible to everyone around me.

When I got off the bus and entered the school's main lobby, there were 10 minutes left until the first bell rang. Everyone was mingling and conversing with one another like always, while ole unavoidable me sat in the corner of the room trying to finish up last night's homework (my geometry homework wasn't completed). Although my grades were great, that didn't mean I wasn't a procrastinator. I hated homework, and since I hated homework, I didn't think much about it. The first thing I usually did when I got home was play Sims 3. I loved Sims. You could create the perfect life for you. You could be friends with everyone, and you could be great at any skill you wanted to be great at. But in reality, it wasn't like that. Everyone disliked you, and you weren't always great at whatever you wanted to be great at.

At least for me it seemed that way.

Moving my eyes away from the third problem of my geometry homework, I surveyed the room taking everyone in. I couldn't help but feel envious towards some of these people. The people who had someone to talk to, the people who never felt anxious when it came to picking a partner in class, or the people who knew exactly where they fit-in. I felt a miserable sigh escape my lips... Where was my involvement? The more I surveyed the room, the more I came to the realization that my chances of making any friends here were slim. I was a junior for Pete's sake and people still looked at me as if I were crazy.

Was I crazy?

Surveying more of the room, I could feel someone's eyes on me. Who was staring at me? I then transfixed my eyes towards the direction of that person.

It was Blayze Terran.

Why was he staring at me?

I knew this might have sounded typical. However, Blayze Terran was one of the most popular guys at Wayward High. He played football, baseball, and some other sport I didn't know much about. But there he was, standing amongst his jock friends, staring at me. I didn't think anyone else noticed. For a moment, it almost felt as if he and I were the only one's in the room.

I felt the urge to look away, but I didn't. He was attractive, no doubt. His light brown hair, hazel eyes, and the freckles that seemed to claim only the bridge of his nose, were some of the attractive features he deemed. His outfit was typical for any athletic guy to wear. He was wearing a gray Nike shirt, some black basketball shorts, with a pair of black socks and Adidas sandals.

"He's staring at me!"

That was when I looked away.

To my left stood Julie Tatherson, who was talking to her group of friends. I'd be flattering Julie too much, if I called her popular and beautiful. Her nasty personality was what made her ugly inside and out. Her hair, brown and shiny, was always put into this messy bun with a different colored bow styling it each day, while her outfits always consisted of black leggings, pink converse, and T-shirts that would say: I Know I'm Beautiful, Everyone Loves Me, or even worse... My Haters Love Me.

"He's staring at me. Look!" Julie whisper-yelled to her friends, I glanced back at Blayze, who, now that I realized, hadn't been staring at me, but at Julie. Honestly I was embarrassed and slightly hurt at this revelation, however it was something I've grown considerably accustomed to over the years. Before I had time to cover up my distressed feelings, I was saved by the bell.

The tread to my locker wasn't long. Putting in the combination, surprisingly my locker opened at the first try. I was one of those individuals who somehow always messed up on the combination the first time. It was a quirk that didn't help, especially when it came to running late for class, and that surely didn't help when I was running late for the bus ride home. Shoving my backpack into my locker, I took out the binder I'd need for my first class.

My first period was English. The teacher Mr Morgan was very cool, plus he knew I had some writing skills beneath my belt. He had loved my paper on the last prompt he'd given us, which was: write about a time in your childhood when you knew things would never be the same again. I'd understood the assignment perfectly, unlike everyone else who simply thought it was the stupidest writing prompt ever! I'd disagreed. I knew exactly what the prompt meant for us to do.

But English didn't make me feel fulfilled enough. My life continued to feel wasteful and bland. Where was the high school life those 80s movies promised you?

If all, that life was a lie.

Maybe if I could just sit around with four distinct individuals in a room all day, perhaps I could become friends with those people if they really got to know me. But I knew that could never happen.

I then sat down in my desk located on the left side of the room where most of the misfits sat. Mr Morgan had the desks divided to where some desks were on the right side of the room, while other desks were pushed on the far left side of the room—which was where I sat.

I took a piece of paper from my journal as people began to fill the room. Mr Morgan usually left a prompt on the board for us to answer. You'd get five points each day for doing it, and if your paper was punctuated correctly and written with great prose, he usually gave you 5 extra points. After the pledge of allegiance to the flag, and daily morning announcements, he would pick up the papers.

After the hour began and the papers were picked up. Mr Morgan began today's lesson. We went over the 5 paragraphs when it came to writing an essay, and it wasn't something we all didn't know. He was just kind of giving us a review on this stuff; since this would be going with today's assignment.

"Okay class," Mr Morgan heralded, clapping his hands together. "You guys are going to get into groups of two. Only two." He stressed the word 'two' by holding up two fingers.

I hated this.

Everyone on my side seemed to be partnered up. And looking on the other side, everyone seemed to be partnered up too. Then there was me... I began to smash my teeth together and grind them, it was a nervous habit. I was beginning to feel anxious, very anxious. I could feel the stares. The pathetic little stares that never failed in making me feel smaller than I appeared.

Mr Morgan who saw my situation, gave me a Cheshire smile and asked,

"Zanna do you have a partner?"

I stopped grinding my teeth.

I obviously don't, I thought.

"No," I said.

Mr Morgan nodded, and looked around the room for a partnerless person, though I could clearly see everyone was partnered up. I'd have to join one of the groups of two, who obviously wouldn't mind making me feel like the third wheel.

I then saw Mr Morgan's eyebrows furrow as if he just realized something amiss. "Wait, where's Blayze?"

I glanced at the desk that was two seats in front of me, which was currently empty.

Yeah, where was Blayze? It wasn't as if I'd forgotten the most popular guy in school had English with me, it just hadn't crossed my mind until now. He was the only popular person who sat on the "Jedi" side, and I quietly appreciated that. It made the jocks that sat in the "dark" side look crazy, as if Blayze was betraying them. However he continued to talk to them from across the room.

It didn't take long for someone to answer Mr Morgan.

Mark Frasier, one of Blayze's friends, spoke up. "He needed to go to the office."

"Oh," said Mr Morgan. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before looking at me and saying, "Well Zanna, Blayze is your partner."

I flushed.

This was a bit overwhelming for me. Sure, I always dreamed of being partners with the notorious Blayze Terran, but it didn't help that I wasn't someone he wanted to be partnered with. I was lame after all, right? Also, that weird look Mark Frasier had given me when Mr Morgan had announced that Blayze was going to be my partner, didn't help at all with my self-esteem. He must've been thinking, Poor Blayze, he's going to be partnered up with her.

()()()

English had gone okay.

Blayze hadn't returned from the office, during the rest of the hour. So that meant, he was unaware of the fact that he'd be working with me all week on an assignment in English. He was in for a big surprise tomorrow.

After English was Yearbook.

Yearbook I founded myself loathing by the minute. Every girl in there didn't like me. I thought Yearbook would be great. I thought being in Yearbook, would make me more involved and that I'd finally make some friends.

Nope.

Yearbook wasn't great. I was often ignored and I barely sold any ads, unlike the rest of the girls who had all their ads sold. I knew most of them looked at me as if I were a piece of gum stuck on the bottom of their shoe. Most of them were popular and athletic. Most of them had at least 100 followers on Twitter. And most of them knew a lot of people in this town, unlike me.

I was an outsider.

This was the class I was failing right here. Just because I couldn't sale as much ads as were required. Ms Banks the Yearbook teacher was starting to hate and resent me because of it. She picked and chose the people who could be in this class, and now that I wasn't reaching her expectations, I bet she was beginning to regret her choice.

To make myself feel better, I looked at this class as if it were a poor man's Newspaper Club. My school didn't offer much extra-curriculars, which meant there was no Newspaper Club.

My school sucked in every way possible.

The lunch sucked, the people sucked, the classes sucked. What could I be doing wrong to make my high school experience this pitiful?

"You're lucky, Zanna," remarked Jennifer Russell out of the blue. I was sitting at one of the computers we had in here, web surfing. I was bored out of mind to say the least. And since it was only early October, there wasn't much to do in Yearbook.

I averted my attention to Jennifer, who was sitting at one of the brainstorming tables, when the next words left her mouth. "You don't have to worry about anyone bothering you."

What did she mean?

I gave her a questionable look. "Uh, what do you mean?"

She shrugged. "You're single, you're smart, you keep to yourself," she stated matter-of-factly.

I slightly flushed. Was that a compliment? Jennifer went back to texting on her phone, ignoring my look of blatant confusion. The other girls were doing their own thing; texting and gossiping, which meant they hadn't heard the quasi-conversation between me and Jennifer.

Turning back around, facing the computer screen again, I stared blankly beyond the computer monitor, at the maroon colored wall in front of me.

Jennifer was wrong. I wasn't lucky.

I didn't have any friends, I was lonely. She didn't have a clue what she was talking about. She was a senior, she was popular, she'd been nominated for homecoming queen this year, she was dating Will Tate the star player of our school's soccer team, and she was a straight A student for crying out loud! Surely she'd be accepted into every college she was going to apply for, and her rich parents wouldn't have a problem paying for the tuition fee.

Maybe she just told me those things, so I could start comparing my life to hers—like I was doing now—to make me feel even more pathetic.

I then went back to surfing the web.

I tried not thinking much more about what Jennifer had said.

()()()

After Yearbook, I had Geometry, then after Geometry was lunch.

Thank God, Geometry had gone okay. Mr. Harvey had figured it was going to be a "work day" today. Which meant, everyone in class would be working on a worksheet he handed-out, along with finishing last night's homework.

I had gotten both assignments finished and turned in.

Lunch was the usual. I sat at my table inside the student center, which was where our school's gym was located—only a few people including me ate inside here. Most of the people during second lunch had vehicles, that meant they went out to eat, opposed to us people (who didn't have any type of transportation) who ate either in here, or inside the greasy-stinky lunch room. I hated the lunch room, I hated the food, and I especially hated the way it smelt in there.

The lunchroom smelt like dirty dishwater and old food. However, the student center was all right. If you had your lunch packed and ready to eat, it was a good place to spend your lunch hour.

I ate by myself in the vacant part of the room. I wouldn't be surprised if the few people, who ate in here, barely noticed me.

If I were them, I'd barely notice me, too.

While I ate my poorly packed lunch that consisted of a bruised apple, a small package of fruit snacks, and a sloppy sandwich with a cold soda, I popped in my ear phones and turned on my hand held CD player, and listened to the Beach Boy's Pet Sounds album. It was the best album that ever existed. The vocal harmonies and melancholy sounds that intermingled with the uplifting chord progressions and unpredictable syncopations were the true heart of the album that helped me get through each day here at school.

All in all, without music I'd be dead.

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Author's Note: I decided to split up some of the chapters. I know that long chapters are a pain to read, and hopefully the story is easier to read to some of you readers now. Oh, and one question: What's your favorite 80s film? Mines is The Sure Thing starring John Cusack.

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