There was a boy. Egotistic, Narcissistic, and oh-so talented. He got good grades when he cared to try, so his teachers knew he was intelligent – which aggravated them to no end... at least those who cared.
And the ones who didn't? Well, it was a run-down school in a part of town where nobody called the cops because the caller was as likely to be shot. #BlackLivesMatter
But one teacher wouldn't leave this too-cool-for-school boy alone. She taught English, and she hated the boy because she knew there was a jewel in him. After he'd turned in an assignment where he had to pick a historical figure and write a letter as them (he chose a self-educated slave's son named W.E.B DeBois), she moved him to the front of the class and gave him detention any time he got less than an A.
She'd done him a favor.
Because there was a girl.
(There's always a girl.)
She was his age; a strawberry blonde in a school that only saw blondes on TV and dye jobs.
Nobody knew her name, and most forgot she was there... she'd learned the art of NOBODY. Those who did saw her as weird.
The boy, the only other person who shared her skin tone, had let his eyes glide right past her, just like everyone else.
Until he made her laugh.