It's You, I Suppose

"Yeah, and we'll eat her," he said from two desks behind me, and I felt myself grimace at his words. "I don't know, what do you think Hannah? An Ella sandwich sounds good to me."

Hannah laughed, almost cruelly, when she replied, "Or Ella brownies. That could be tasty."

"Matt! Hannah!" Madame Smith called from her desk, looking over her glasses to glare behind me at my tormentors. Instantly they became silent and I imagined them bending over their book, snickering to themselves, pretending to learn the many french verbs before them. Pretending they weren't thinking of more ways to make me feel outcastes and miserable.

Not that I wasn't used to this already. French one, in the little, crowded room in a corner of the school that was utterly forgotten, had become my bane. Not only was the language itself beating my naive freshman head to a pulp, but my fellow classmates were hitting my spirit hard. Harder than was truly necessary.

I had received their message from day one, they need not reiterate it.

They didn't like me, I understood.

"Hey Ella," Hannah hissed, and I slowly spun around and wordlessly looked at her with an expression that I hope told her how freaking annoyed I was. However, she grinned like a lioness who has her prey exactly where she wants them for the kill. I swallowed.

"What do you want?" I asked, although I already knew. For the last three months of class I had known.

"Give me the answers for the worksheet. Now."

Taking a deep breath, I was half way to moving my paper so she could copy my answers, but somehow, something that felt a lot like courage welled up in side of me and bubbled to the surface. "No," I whispered.

"What was that?" Hannah asked in disbelief. "Matt, did you hear that too?"

I looked in former friend's eyes and wondered why and how things had changed between us. It's because of Hannah, I thought, and I peered out of the corner of my eye so I saw Jake, the other boy that made up this terrible trio.

Matt looked at me, unsure of what to say. I wonder if he too was thinking of the fast friendship we had acquired and how quickly we had become strangers. How quickly he had dyed his beautiful black hair and started to wear clothes that he believed screamed 'hipster'. How quickly he had become the person I disliked the most.

"No," I said louder this time, months of bullying finally giving me the voice to stand up. "I'm sick and tired of you picking on me. All three of you. And I don't even know why you chose to pick in me n the first place!"

"Um, Ella, just settle down," Jake looked around nervously, playing with his lip ring as he watched Madame Smith. "We just want to see the answers."

"And what if I don't let you, hmm?" I asked, rising from my desk to turn and face the three of them, and the other students watched us, watched me, as I let out the bottled up anger. "Will you just continue to bring me down? Day after day, make me feel completely worthless?"

"Ella, what in the world is going on?" Madame Smith asked, and I heard Jake whisper a "dear god" under his breath and Hannah sunk down in her chair. Matt remained still, watching me, the silence just as choking as if he were making fun of me, mocking me with his stare.

"It's...is just a little joke, that's all Madame Smith..." Hannah attempted lamely.

"No, it's not a joke, it's never just a joke!" I shouted, then ran out of the class room and into the safety of the hallway. Nobody bothered to follow, not even Madame Smith. Leaning against the cold tiled wall, I sunk down and buried my head in my hands, letting a sob escape.

I heard the door to the French room open and close, but I didn't bother to look up. Who ever it was wasn't going to see me like this, eyes bloodshot and face tear streaked and flushed. I did manage to stop outwardly crying though, waiting to start the water works again until after they had passed.

But the foot steps came to stop by me. I peaked through my arms to catch a glimpse of a pair of Vans skateboarding shoes.

Not Matt, I thought, anyone but Matt.

"Ella," his voice came to me dispute my wishing against it. "Ella, I'm so sorry."

I looked up at him slowly, unsure what to even say to him. Finally my small and broken voice asked, "What made you think that was ever ok to make fun of me like that?"

"Oh Ella, you can't take things so personally," he said, coming sit down beside me.

"How else am I supposed to take it when all of a sudden a friend acts like he doesn't even know me and starts making jokes at my expense?" I accused.

"I'm sorry it grew to be something extremely out of hand," he handed me a tissue. "I figured you may have need of one," he explained.

"You figure right," I said, drying my eyes, wondering if I should accept Matt's apology or not.

As if reading my mind, Matt patted me n the shoulder and smiled one of the smiles I remembered from so long ago. "Ella, I promise you I won't ever intentionally hurt you again," Matt assured me.

And like a fool unwilling falling in love, I believed him, unaware it would be my downfall.