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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1667418-A-Boy-Named-Marcus-C1
Rated: E · Chapter · Relationship · #1667418
A short story about a young girls love for someone she knows nothing about.
Chapter One.

  You were small and slight; you had dull brown hair and a sweet smile. You were quiet. It wasn’t as if you were shy, but people always assumed you were shy so they didn’t give you the opportunity to speak much.

  People always said how you looked like Betty Davies, and you did from a distance, but that was till you were stood next to her in the playground, ready to walk out, in a long snaking line, for your school photo. Betty was about the same height and build as you but she had large Bambi-like eyes, a small upturned nose and highlighted hair that glistened in the sun. She looked nothing like you. You and she were best friends in year five and six, but when you started senior school, and you had to work extremely hard to maintain your scholar ship, the two of you drifted apart. It went from BFF’s to the occasional text and now you never spoke to each other at all. She spent her time with her popular friends, or with her boyfriends, she’d had four this year and they were all from the year above, or the year above that. You’d never had a boyfriend. You’d never been kissed. You’d never even held someone’s hand. You couldn’t. You hung around with the wrong people. You hung around with the rest of the girls who had never been kissed. If you were still friends with Betty now, you would probably have a boyfriend. You didn’t really have time to do anything but study though. You went to a private school which your parents could only just afford with your scholarship discount. This meant you had to work incredibly hard at school because you’d only just scraped through the exam. You walked off, continuing the line behind Sam Briggs who you once fancied and onto the steps where you would have to stand for nearly thirty minutes. You looked up and were glad you were small. The top steps were incredibly high. You remembered when you went on the London eye; it had not even got a quarter ways round when you started to panic. You were only four back then but you were still terrified of heights.

  When the photo was done, and you thought it would never end, you trailed back to your classroom, taking a detour to the toilets to put on some mascara. It was only cheap stuff but it made you feel way cooler. You arrived in geography and everyone had already sat down. The door creaked as you opened it. You stepped in.

  “Sorry I’m late,” You laughed a little. No one else did, “I got caught up.” Some of the cooler boys sniggered a little. The teacher turned to you, she raised an eyebrow.

  “Well sit down Dalia and try not to get caught up again.” You sat down next to Fiona Harte who was another unpopular girl. She wasn’t small and skinny; she was very, very big. With big shoulders and an even bigger stomach. She looked like a large animal hunched over her work. You got your books out of your bag and were just about to start when the door opened again. Miss Heeler, your grey haired teacher, rolled her eyes. Then her eyes widened as she saw who it was. The deputy head was there; her red-polished-finger-nailed hand was on the shoulder of a boy. He had tanned skin and jet black hair. He had large dark eyes set in a handsome face. He was wearing skinny black jeans and a red polo top. You looked closely at the label, it was Ralph Lauren. He looked fit and muscular, but not athletic. Oddly; he looked like the sort of person who could handle a sword.

  “This is Marcus, he will be joining this class after half term so if some of you can look after he through lunch then he can get to know you better,” She turned to him, “If you wanna sit down somewhere.” He looked around for a spare seat. There were two, one was by you, and the other was by Sadie Clemens. She was curvy and busty with cascading blonde curls and pouty pink lips. She was funny and cocky, if a little up herself  she always looked perfect, her hair, her face, every single eyelash... it never differed from day to day, her figure was always the same; muscular hard stomach and legs. Perhaps her boobs were rock hard too...

  He sat down next to you and smiled.

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