I watched him light up a cigarette behind the bleachers during lunch break, as I always did.  I examined the way he drew it to his lips and wrapped them around the filter so softly, but strong and sultry at the same time.  I could see through him; deep into his soul.  This is one of the perks of being so distant, and observant of others.  It’s not like I’m some loser with no friends, I prefer to be alone.  Why go sit with a bunch of people you can’t stand just so you don’t have to go through the “embarrassment” of sitting alone?  Well I say ***** that!  I’d much rather be by myself listening to the music that they’ve never heard of¸ watching them scurry shamelessly trying to be well liked by others.  
Anyhow, even his name sets him apart from the others: Chase Marcum.  He’s got the perfect combination of characteristics to make him tool of the century, but he’s not; he’s actually like me.  I want to go up and talk to him some time, but since he is like me, he’d probably just brush me off, assuming I was one of the people that I, that we, despise.  The lunch bell rings, and everyone trickles back into the building for more unwanted learning; everyone except Chase of course.  No lunch bell can tell him to stub out his cigarette.  He smokes it down until there is only one centimeter left to the filter.  
He strolls into class five minutes late and the teacher doesn’t even say a word.  I wish I could be untouchable like that.  As Mrs. Hammond drones on about the inner-workings of a cell, I sink into the inner-workings of my imagination.  I doze off and begin to dream about Chase.  I’m in the hallway and one of the lovely bullies of Remington High decides to stick their foot out just enough so that I can’t see it to prepare for the fall to my doom.  He walks away while still looking at me, pointing and laughing.  Everyone joins in, until Chase comes along and sticks his foot out just enough for the bully to topple down a small flight of stairs.  That made everyone laugh a lot harder.  
       He helps me pick up my books, and we walk outside for lunch, together.  Once we get to his bleacher spot, he smokes while I bite deep into my apple.  We converse about anything and everything that can be covered in twenty-five minutes.  When the bell rings, everyone leaves –  everyone except for us.  We become silent, our eyes locked onto each others.  He begins to caress my cheek and to speak to me, but there is no sound coming out.  I’m being ripped back to reality by the worst thing I could possibly hear: somebody shouting “Check it out, Taylor’s got a *****!”  OH. MY. GOD.  For the rest of my high school “experience” I’m gonna be that kid that got a ******* in science class.  Everyone was laughing at me, even the teacher, and I was just numb.  
        It seemed like an eternity before the laughter stopped; with the voice of what I thought was an angel.  I snapped back into it the moment I realized that my angel was Chase: “Hey guys give the kid a break, it’s not his fault Mrs. Hammond is so ****!”  I guess she was kinda ****… if you’re into that.  At least nobody knew what I was actually dreaming about.  This remark made Mrs. Hammond become furious.   She sent him to the principal’s office and me to the nurse.  We grabbed our bags and departed, together.  I didn’t know what to say.  What does someone say in a situation like this?  I just averted my eyes from him so I didn’t make things even more awkward than they already were.  After a brief silence save a few half-giggles, I got the moment I had been hoping for – Chase broke the silence:  “What, not even a thanks?”
        “Uh, sorry… I mean thank you.  It means a lot that you didn’t laugh at me.”
       “Well... I laughed a little on the inside, because you gotta admit, it is pretty ridiculous.  But that could happen to anybody and it’s just rude to point and laugh.  Plus it’s bad karma.”  I wasn’t sure if I should be offended by the fact that he laughed.  I guess it actually was “pretty ridiculous” though.  God I love that word.  Well I guess in the future when I think about this day, I can laugh a little along with the wanting to die feeling.  We approached the hall that led to the principal, secretary and nurse’s offices, but Chase went in the other direction.  “Where are you going?” I asked.  
       “I’m not going to the principal’s office for doing what’s right.  Wanna ditch with me?”  
I normally wouldn’t skip out on class, but before I could even begin to contemplate the consequences, I agreed.  One of the most embarrassing and traumatic incidences in my life happened just minutes before, but I was walking on air.