The lunchroom was much more crowded than I thought was possible. The school building wasn't that big compared to some of the other ones from other states. And I kinda like the fact that it's a bit more of a small community. Regardless though I got my food and sat at an empty table. It's funny, but my parents almost didn't let me go to this school because of the fact there were rumors that a random came here. I don't care. I'm probably the only person who would even consider standing up for them here. I've always been different, according to my parents anyway. They say I wasn't born with the right mindset and that I'll learn someday. Learn what exactly? I'm not sure. I like hanging out with the randoms. It may sound weird, but it's true. If my parents got wind of it they'd freak out. I come from a fairly rich family and I try to use my allowance to help the people around me. If my parents knew about it though, they'd cut me off.

I began to eat the cafeteria food, it wasn't the best. But I know there are people who would beg for this. So who am I to complain?

I glanced up when something red caught my eye near the door. I didn't know what it was then, but I would very soon. Then I heard the yelling: a couple of guys were just on top of this girl who had walked in. Seemingly for no reason whatsoever.

I was immediately up and over there in a flash prying these guys off of her.

“What kind of all time low is this,” I asked one of them, “that you would gang up on a defenseless girl? What happened to fighting like men and respect for women?”

They looked like they were floored that I had said this. I just looked at them and told them if I caught them doing it again there would be consequences for their actions. And they all say back down. I helped her up and put my hands on her shoulders. “You okay?” I asked her. She was beautiful. She had fire-red hair, and deep, blue-gray eyes. She was wearing a pair of black pants and a gray sweater that looked like it's seen better days. I don't know why, but there was something there. Something that people normally don't have. But I couldn't have told you what.

She gave me a look that to me came across as pure shock combined with some sort of death glare. Then with a very jerky motion she wrenched herself away from me and simply said “I'm fine, now leave me alone. You'll be better off that way.”

“Listen,” I replied, “I don't know why those guys attacked you, but whatever the reason be it was wrong of them.”

“Yeah? Well why don't you just ask them why, maybe they'll let you join the dog pile next time.”

“I'm not like that.” I paused, then continued by asking, “Do you have any friends?”

“Why does that concern you? And how is it not already blatantly obvious to your dumb ass that I don't have any?”

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But I never caught your name.”

“Phoenix.” Was the response I was given. She sounded pretty annoyed about me having asked, but I genuinely wanted to know who I'd just saved a few bruises.

“My name's Cole. And if you don't have any friends,” I continued cautiously, “then is it okay if I sit with you?”

She turned around to face me. “Will you take no for an answer?”

“No.”

She sighed, “Then there's no way I'm able to stop you without getting licked myself.” she replied. There was a hint of annoyance in her voice still, but I decided to ignore it. I've seen what putting walls up can do to people, and typically, when someone is excessively bullied, they act aggressive like this. It's not normally what they're actually like.

We sat at an otherwise empty table, and I tried a little small talk during the course of lunch to no avail. And as Phoenix got up to throw her trash away I noticed two things: scars on her wrists, and Sharpie drawings on her left arm. Stuff like skulls and fire.

I then made the mistake of commenting on how she was a great artist. She smacked me with her food tray and walked off.

‘Okay. Don't bring up the Sharpie tattoos. Got it.’ I made a mental note for next time.