The stupid class had gone on too long. And my partner was boring me with her senseless talk about imaginary creatures. I ignored her, painting my nails dark blue. I would of done black, but it was becoming too cliche. Happy people even wore black these days.
The girl brought out a book now, which on it was proudly printed, The Great and Expansive Guide to Your Personal Invisible Friends. The want to laugh was there, but the need to stab the girl was more prominent. She had to be kidding me but she wasn't. Her mega-watt smile didn't cause me any happiness but it did make me more depressed. I wanted to see her cry in pain, or at least frown.
And there it was. Like a magician I had made her smile disappear, and had pulled out a nice bout of hurt from my magic top hat. The book was gone. A sympathetic smile was all it took for her to slide it over to me, and simple caress of the cover and poof! Bye bye loser book.
Turning from the girl, I didn't care about the tears that were welling up in her eyes. Not me. I didn't care about anyone in this School. You know what? When I first looked at the brochure, I decided that "The School" didn't even deserve to be capitalized anyway. It was just a school. A school for "special" kids.
Excitement and failure wafted through the room, as kids tried and succeeded as well as failed. Kids were happy nonetheless, or most of the kids were. Spotting another grump in the back of the group, I grinned. I guess you're never alone.