Ok, Tdirm here! And I have another one-shot! It's from Total Drama Author 3. Also, TDI never happened.

“Run, it’s her! The nerd-killer!”

I gritted my teeth and stopped myself from actually killing John, the nerd from my science class. Ever since one daring nerd, Harold, rigged my student council votes last year and my retaliation to it, which involved hunting him down with a lamppost. As a result, all the nerds, who made half of the student body at Aquidneck Academy, avoided me with their lives, despite my apology to Harold. In addition, the rest never liked me to begin with. It didn’t bother me, many members of the Marris family had to go through suffering to get to riches and glory. We were probably the only family in Newport to ever keep one of the mansions on Bellevue Avenue all this time, past the days of the city being a summer retreat for the rich, past the days when the navy base supported Newport then left. Nevertheless, a part of me said that maybe I should care. ‘Come on Courtney,’ it said, ‘They’re verbally abusing you in front of teachers.’ Then the rest of my brain would counter with something like, ‘But they’re the ones who’ll end up working at a gas station in rural New Jersey.’ Then my brain would argue with itself. ‘No, they’ll be the ones who’ll gain command of some Silicon Valley software firm and end up richer than you.’

‘Yeah right, you’re only dreaming that ‘

‘No I’m not, I’m just the SANE side of your brain!’

‘Wanna bet!’

These arguments can be up to two hours in length. You can tell when they happen, as my class work grades drop drastically. I usually shrugged them off as anxiety, but now I wasn’t sure which side was right. I finished gathering my textbooks and binders I needed for my morning classes, and entered my English classroom, which served as my homeroom, took a seat, and whipped out a copy of “Pride and Prejudice”, in which I was busy in making a oral report on. After about half an hour, Keri, the girl who sits next to me and the only friend I have, or will ever have for that matter, nudged me in the stomach.

“Courtney, Ms. Misero’s speaking.” She said softly and quickly, a way that was synonymous to her.

Sure enough, she was. “Ok, we have a new student here,” she said unenthusiastically. She pointed to a boy with black hair next to her, “What is your name New-Student-Whom-I-Do-I-Not-Care-About?”

“Trent, ma’am.”

“And where did you move from Trent?”

“Moved from Halifax,” Trent replied. Before he could say that it was in Nova Scotia, as any student in here who had a sense of geography knew, Ms. Misero interrupted, “That’s in England right?”

“Uh…No ma’am, it’s in Canada.”

Then the whole class burst into a fir of giggles and chuckles, Ms. Misero didn’t look embarrassed, which added to them.

“Settle down class,” she said, and proceeded to give out work, as well as fill Trent in on what we were doing.

The next period, in Honors Algebra, I had another brain argument. Except this time, the two sides seemed to be agreeing. They said ‘They are teasing you.’ At that moment, I felt a huge pang of loneliness creep through me like the cold I knew would be coming in about a month. Then I realized that Trent never knew me, so he couldn’t hate me at first. All I had to do was befriend him! But it wasn’t so simple. All my life I’ve had problems with my social skills. Trust me; I didn’t even have friends in kindergarten. So what made me think that I could now? It was a wonder Keri was a friend; she had invited me into her clique, and we had stayed together somewhat as all the other members moved away. I sauntered up to his desk in the next class we were in together, Honors Chemistry, with as much confidence as I could muster. Which frankly, was not much.

“Uh, Trent, I was kinda wondering if you wanted to sit with me at lunch. I know the school, so I can show you what it’s like, you know,” I said while trembling, complete with chattering teeth. Why was I like this now? I don’t talk like this to Keri, my parents, or any of my teachers. I was so deeply into these thoughts when Trent finally replied.

“Um, sure,” He said, “But first, what’s your name?”

“Courtney Marris.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Courtney. When’s lunch?”

“Should be after this class.”

“Okay .” Throughout that whole class, my hands were shaking profusely, spilling nearly a quarter of the chemical I was supposed to pour into a beaker onto the metal tray the beaker was on. The teacher was not happy at me for instantly rusting the tray. Finally, the bell rang and Trent and I headed for the cafeteria, him taking large, relaxed strides, and me, taking small, quick steps and looking like a robot on a old T.V. show. We sat down at the edge of a table at the corner of a cafeteria near the windows. We had both brought lunches, so there was no need to go into the mob of people surrounding the lunch line. “So, Courtney,” Trent asked, “What’s your all-time favorite song?” “Hmm, I love pretty much all types of music except rap and country, but my favorite would have to be Lazy Eye by Silversun Pickups.”

“Don’t know that one.”

“I have it on my iPod; I can show you it sometime.”

“Cool, I love listening to new songs.”

“So Trent, what’s your favorite?”

Before Trent had a chance to reply, Izzy Daniels walked over to our spots. Well, she didn’t walk; she twirled and leaped to us, it was simply how she moved, usually breaking things along the way. She opened her mouth and words tumbled out, at a pace you thought you wouldn’t be able to comprehend, but you did,

“Oh hi Trent! Hope you like it here, everybody’s so friendly!” Then she turned towards me, “Oh, it’s you,” she said in a much less perkier tone, “Don’t torture the new kid.”

“What’s your problem Iz?” I asked. We had been friends, only for her to ditch me after the Harold fiasco.

“Yeah, you people are friendly here,” Trent countered sarcastically. Izzy glared at the two of us and left, taking strained strides while looking back at us every now and again.

“What was that about?” Trent inquired.

“Something that happened a long time ago, yet wasn’t ever forgotten. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Makes sense Courtney. I’ve had my share of those.”

“But did they make the whole school shun you?” I countered.

“Well no, but…” Trent said. Then I exploded for reasons I don’t know.

“See, I have no friends, I’m as lonely as you can get and then some and I’m the butt of all jokes! You don’t get it, I’m the outcast! You should leave me alone while you still have a chance of fitting in!”

Trent seemed unfazed; he just looked me in the eye and said softly.

“It’s not about that Courtney. Tell you what; do you have any friends period? Tell me the truth.”

“Ok, I have one, Keri Holler, but we aren’t as close as we once were.”

“Call her after school. Tell her we’ll go to… do have anywhere you like to go for lunch?”

“Well, I have a place where I like to go for breakfast; it’s a little place near the International Tennis Hall of Fame called Annie’s. They have great cinnamon rolls. If we go, when they ask if you want it grilled, say yes Trent.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, we’ll go on Saturday morning, and bring Keri too.”

“Sure, sounds great.”

“Um, Courtney, also, your little outburst brought some attention.” He glanced towards the rest of the cafeteria, “Maybe we should finish our lunches in the library.”

“Yeah, sounds great.”

I left the cafeteria. No scratch that. We left the cafeteria. I usually hated lunchtime, with it’s taunts and jeers, but now, at least I had someone to endure them with.

Author's Note- Well, it wasn't depressing, so this is a first. Also, please review on the talk page for this.

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