English class became easier and easier with every lesson that passed by. I came up with ways to avoid him, like entering the class early and taking a seat at the back so by the time he came in, people were sitting in front of me and blocking me from his view.
I never raised my hand, I always did my homework and left it on his desk so he wouldn’t have to ask for it and I would always be the first to leave at the end of each lesson.
Walking past him in the hallways was never easy, and I don’t think it was going to get any easier anyhow. I was hurting and becoming close to him with each step caused my heart to ache. I hated the way I could feel him looking at me out of the corner of his eyes when I walked by or talked to friends at my locker. He knew exactly what I was feeling and just pretended I didn’t exist.
Perhaps being strangers was easier than being friends.