The bell rang, and we were dismissed to our next class. I had another one with Parker, and walked down the hall with him. He was the only person I knew in the least bit, and it was somewhat comforting to not be completely lost.

Social Studies. I hate social studies.

The teacher was Mr. Poure, pronounced sort of like the word purée. That would get annoying after a while. Also, he was one of those teachers that was really old, with snow-white hair and thick bifocals which made his eyes look really blurry. He had a cane, and his arm shook when he walked.

We didn’t have assigned seats in his class, so I sat with Parker. It was odd; he didn’t have any other people really sitting close to him.

I was surprised. For how cute and nice he was, he should’ve been someone really popular, like a football player or something.

I guess first impressions aren’t always true.

“So.. who was that you were drawing?” I finally asked, in the middle of class.

He gulped, looking straight ahead.