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'Charlie.'

'Charlie Fritz.'

'Charlie!'

She awoke with a start, her emerald eyes darting around the classroom. Or, at least she assumed her eyes were emerald. She was red-green colorblind, so her eyes always looked a hazel red.

Her eyes met others as she shrank under the stares, and the whispers. She slightly tapped her fingers on her desk to calm herself down, but flinched when she heard her name called again.

'Charlie Fritz, you should not be sleeping during class.'

Charlie mumbled a quiet apology to her English teacher, Ms Dennings, who was crossing her arms in the front of the room. Her eyes were always hidden by sunglasses, and her usual, motherly smile was turned into a deep frown. Charlie assumed she was mad.

'Can you answer the question on the board, Ms Fritz?'

Another hushed whisper fluttered around the classroom as Charlie squinted up at the board. She needed glasses, she realized, when her vision went blurry on her. Or maybe she was just nervous. And- oh god everyone was staring at her. She fumbled with her pencil (the thing she fidgeted with most) and didn't bother to grab it.

She slightly cleared her throat, staring down at her desk and shaking her head. A simple no. A simple way to avoid embarrassment by attempting to solve the question, when she really wasn't paying attention at all.

The stares became more brutal, and everyone seemed like they were looking down at the poor, poor girl. A sigh sounded from the front of the board, and all the stares and whispers went away. Ms Dennings was understanding. She picked another person to answer the question (Denis Deans, Charlie noted) and looked sympathetic at poor Charlie.

------

Poor, poor Charlie. She had always been bad at social interactions. She's always been bad at everything, it seemed. But a girl caught her attention outside. She was...beautiful. Dark, smooth skin, poofy, black hair. Charlie didn't realize she was staring. She didn't realize anything, it seems, as she walked smack dab into a lamp post.

Great. Now kids were staring at her again and now she was gonna break down again and-

A hand brought her out of her mind. A dark toned smooth hand. Charlie usually hated physical touch (her mother would tell her she used to throw tantrums if she had to hold hands across the street) but this was...calming, almost.

'Hey. Are you okay?'

The student seemed to stare at her. Charlie stared back. This lasted a minute or two (to Charlie, at least. It was really a few seconds) before Charlie said something in response.

'Yeah.'

Curses, I sound so dumb!

'Good. ...Say, Charlie, was it? I remember you from English class. Oh, heh, wait, I believe this is yours-'

Great. From English class, where I'm a total failure. This is embarrassing.

Charlie looked slightly shocked when the girl took a pencil out of her bag. Specifically, Charlies special pink and purple pencil which she loved so much. She smiled at the girl, because she was the only one in the world who had helped her.

All the doctors didn't. Her family didn't, either. But this girl, this beautiful girl who was standing in front of poor Charlie, didn't look at her with pity. Or anger. Or anything of the sort.

'I- I never got your name.' Charlie mumbled out, studying the girls face. She had very smooth, dark skin, with freckles. A small nose (Charlies was a tad bit big), shimmering blue eyes and kissable lips. Wait. What was Charlie thinking? She'd never want to kiss anyone before. At least not before now.

'Olive. You can call me Liv for short.'

'Yeah...I mean, okay- I'm Charlie!'

Gosh, she sounded so dumb. Olive giggled.

'I know that. We're in the same English class.'

'Oh...yeah, right.'

That was the moment where the church bells (the church was down the street from the school and extremely loud) struck four. Why they even need bells when kids have fancy phones and watches, Charlie didn't know. But shit! if she didn't get home within half an hour now, she'd be dead meat.

Olive seemed to be smiling in confusion as Charlie backed away slowly.

'It was...it was nice meeting you, Olive!' She called, walking away.

'It was nice meeting you too, Charlie.'

And Charlie ran into the street lamp. Again.