The day, just like any other day, was long for Pammy. Trying to keep out of the cruel eyes of the popular crowd, she kept to the corners, rushed through the crowded hallways from class to class, and prayed to any god out there that they wouldn't notice her and decide to pick on her for fun, or however they looked at it.

But lunch came and like any other day, came the struggle of finding a place to eat her lunch quietly. Thankfully, it wasn't too cool outside and the sun was shining by 11am. She bought her tray of lunch and hurried through the doors and out to the quiet lawn surrounded by the school, save for the opposite wall where pillars and slender roof covered a walkway that branched out into dirt paths leading towards the road of houses most of the school population lived in.

Early to lunch, she got first dibs, finding a spot by a tree. She checked to make sure the ground wasn't too wet before she sat down and leaned her back up against the rough bark. She sat her tray down on the ground beside her as she pulled out her Gatsby book and began reading more from where she had left on. By now, she was already ten chapters in, hooked on the writing style, plot, and characters.

It wasn't long before halfway through lunch, a group of girls from her English class came over to her, blocking the sunlight with angry eyes and their hands filled with water bottles and black plastic containers of the school's ale carte salads.

"You're in our spot, freak."

Any years before now, they'd have avoided her, claiming something along the lines of, "We don't want to catch freak."

She stared down at her book, refusing to look up at them as her eyebrows furrowed and she bit the corner of her lip, deciding what she should do. Move away and find another lunch spot silently? Call them out on their bitchy attitudes? Or try and ignore them to see if they go away...