All That I've Got

Friday, thank god. Hey, you were right. I will never be able to truly forget you.
I went to the park again last night. It was dark, and I was the only one there. It’s really kind of sad when you think about it. I mean, everyone used to go there.
Anyways, what really reminded me of you (besides the usual things) was the new kid. His name is Blake, and he’s a pretty decent kid. But the weird thing about it is, well...he is nothing like you—and yet just seeing him that one time reminded me of you. Here’s what happened:

I was walking down the hall to the computer lab. Then there’s a tap on my shoulder, and I turned, expecting to see you (ha-ha, I know the joke’s on me), and see this kid. As we both know, I’m not exactly...observant or anything, but I do know that I’ve never seen this kid before. So then he, this new kid, starts talking to me.
“Hey,” he says all casual and smiley. I bet it was a dare. They probably dared him to do it.
“Hey?” So he’s still smiling. What kind of freak is this kid? Why is he smiling at me? I. Am. Nobody.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing...?” Then he’s, like, staring at me, like he’s expecting something. So I ask him.
“Can I help you with something?” His smile fades. Finally!
“Well, it’s just that...I’m new here,” obviously, or you wouldn’t be here talking to me, “and I could really use a friend who has been here for a while. Well, that and you seem like a really nice person. Not to mention you know people...but you know what I mean. Right?”
He has this little smirk on his face, and it’s bugging me. He looks embarrassed. Good, I think, and then I bust out laughing, right in the poor kid’s face. For a moment, I almost feel bad. Once again, his smile fades.
“What, did I say something funny?” I calm down just enough to spit out a single sentence—between bouts of laughter.
“I...am...not...popular.” I manage.
Now he looks happier...much happier. Oh no, now what have I done? I have exactly two minutes to get this kid off my back and get to my class that’s on the other side of the school. I sobered quickly.
“Look, kid, I’m not popular. I am not funny, or happy, or nice, or smart. Unless you want to be a total social outcast, you do not want to be my friend. Got it?”
He looked happy. Why did he look happy?
“Look, Skye,” how the hell does he know my name??? “I don’t get it. All week, everybody’s been talking to you and about you,” great, people are talking about me...again. And since when does a hallway ‘hi’ qualify as talking? “And I though you were someone different.”
I think that he thinks that I’m pulling his leg.
“Different from who?”
“You know, from all the cheerleaders, jocks, and attention whores. I thought you were like me, and now I know I’m right.”
Well whoop-de-freakin-doo for you kid. But guess what? You’re still wrong! I am nothing like you! You and your black hair, green eyes, and jock-like preppy look. Just leave me alone already!
“Okay, kid—”
“Blake.”
“Huh?”
“My name...is Blake.” Shit. Of course it is.
“Okay then, Blake, I have got to get to class. I would really love to stay to chat and all, but—”
“Where are you going?”
Would this damn freaking kid stop interrupting me?!?
“Well, if you don’t mind, I am heading to the computer lab.”
Well dammit, he looked happy again.
“Cool, that’s where I’m headed, too.”
Well, crap.