Taylor Sanderson shut her locker door and turned to discover half of the football team closing in on her.

“Morning dyke. Good weekend?”

“Get out of the way Drew.”

“Ooh, touchy.”

Taylor rolled her eyes and tried pushing through, but the wall of muscle and homophobia held. The bell for the start of lesson rang, and the students around them began to move to lesson.

“Are you gonna let me go to class or what?”

“Cut the attitude dyke. We’ll get you at break.” He moved back, puffing up his jacket and chewing his gum. One of his mates tapped him and nodded down the corridor. Taylor turned to look as she pushed her way past the footballers, and saw where all the gawking was directed.

She was Taylor’s age, with long red hair and pale skin. Her eyes were dark, and prominent through skilled eyeliner application, while her body curved in all the right places. She was wearing expensive looking clothes; her cream scarf matched her hat and heels, while her skinny jeans clung to her legs in all the right places. Taylor stopped and peered round Drew, forgetting that she should get away before the boys decided to make mince meat out of her. The girl stopped at the locker next to Taylor’s, smiling as the boys all wolf-whistled. She opened her locker, shoved her coat in and then closed it.

“Any of you boys fancy showing me where English is?” She looked around at them all with a raised eye-brow, and then paused at Taylor. She smiled and then her eyes carried on. Taylor sucked in her breathe, realised who was around her, and began making a hasty retreat. Behind her she heard Drew introducing himself to the girl. Both Drew and this new girl would be in her next lesson, so there was no point in waiting round for Drew to trip her up as she walked in. She could do without that on a Monday morning.

In English, no one sat next to Taylor, so she could doodle and pretend she was working without any geek telling on her. She lolled in her seat, sketching on a scrap piece of paper. The class filled and finally the teacher, a tall blonde haired woman called Mrs Davison, arrived and took her place at the front of the class. The new girl stood with her as the teacher looked round for a free seat. After a moment she realised with a sigh that the only seat free was next to Taylor, whose head was down as she sketched something in her notebook.

“Taylor.” Taylor looked up. “Taylor, this is Harriet Knox. She’s going to have to sit next to you.” Taylor shrugged and looked back at her notebook, while the boys all whistled. Harriet sat down and smiled at Taylor, who nodded then continued to draw.

The End

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