And now it was back to school all over again. Had it really been two days? Why can't we have less school days? Whatever. I can't change it. So why complain?

Everything was perfectly normal, even the bullying and harassment. Then lunch rolled around and guess who saved a seat—or in this case, an entire table—for me? If you guessed it was Mister Looky Lu from the previous Friday, you'd be correct. And he tried another conversation. Seeing as he clearly didn't learn his lesson Friday when that big mouth of his got food grease and condiments all over his face.

“Hey.” I didn't really respond. Maybe if I make him think I just don't want to be next to him he'll get the message. “I know I didn't start or end off in the best way yesterday,” he had the nerve to continue, “and I wanted to make it up to you. Have you ever had Bartz Ice-cream before?”

“No. I don't have the financial means for luxury, Mister High-life.”

“Look, I understand you're irritated with me-”

“Oh look who finally can use his eyes! Why do you think I'm irritated? I can barely feed myself as it is and you have the nerve to ask me about ice-cream?” And he was right, I was irritated. Of all the things he could have offered me food-wise it was probably the most overpriced, unsustainable shit ever.

“But I just want you to listen to me.” Part of me couldn't even believe he was still trying to talk. “I know who you are, Phoenix. And it doesn't scare me. All I want to do is give you someone you can talk to, and if that's too much to ask then I don't think I know how to ask you anything.”

I slightly perked up at what he'd said, but thankfully I don't think he noticed. “Alright, but if you try anything funny it'll be your balls that pay for it.” I could tell he wasn't affected too much by the threat for some reason, but he did seem to be zoned out a little.

I got up, threw my stuff out, and went outside for some fresh air. I sat down on the grass, and Cole had followed me out. Of course he did, I hardly know this guy and he's all over me for no reason. I really don't understand this kid. He's been nothing but nice to me. It's just so unnatural. “What do you want now? “ I asked him.

“Phoenix,” he sat down next to me and put my hand into his, “I want you to know something.” He sighed and looked me in the eyes, “Look, I know this is probably very new to you. But I need you to know that you are not alone. If you ever need someone to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on, I'm here for you.”

I don't know why, but at those words something inside me just broke down. The next thing I knew I was crying against his shoulder like I knew him a lot better than I actually did. It felt weird, I won't lie. I've never shown vulnerability around anyone before. And I'm pretty sure this was the first time I'd really cried for a few years. But something about it felt good. I'm not sure whether that was the feeling of finally being accepted, the nice texture of his jacket, or something else—granted it could have been a combination of a lot of things—but something about that moment would last with me for a very long time to come.