The closet has become my second home. For the past few weeks I have spent my time working on the old room to make it a little better. I grabbed some of my favorite books to read and a pillow and blanket from home. Miss Marvin (the librarian) gave me a poster of Maya Angelou for the school wouldnt allow the library to carry any of her books. I taped the poster on the old mirror. Everything was coming together.

I began hanging with Rachel more frequently and even go to her house from time to time

"I like the color shocking pink. Do you?" We are sitting in her room as she says that. She was doing her nails in that exact color as she sat at her desk. I was sitting criss-cross on her bed hugging a fluffy pillow.

Rachels room was better than mine but definitely not my type.

Her walls were an eggshell white color. Her bed was fluffy and colorful. It was decorated with her tastes

My walls were a bland white. I stopped caring what my room looked like after it happened. Pictures were tore down. decorations were put away. Its all sitting in the back of my closet.

"I dont like much pink." I admitted. I dont like many colors after that night. I stopped caring. Its just a color.

"Thats too bad..." She said. What was too bad?

"Uh... yeah." I agreed.

"So, I was thinking about joining this group of people. Theyre really cool! They call themselves the New Directions! They like, help people and do community service and stuff. All I have to do is dress like them and do whatever they tell me to and Ill be in." She seemed so happy about it. I wouldnt. The New Directions were just a group of stuck-up, selfish people who just use these acts for publicity and to look good so they can get into colleges and stuff. They dress up in matching clothes and for random holidays. Theyre horrible but I didnt want to tell Rachel. That wouldnt be right.

"Thats um... cool." I say. What else is there to say?

"Maybe someday Ill come to your house. We could probably pick out your daily outfits to match the New Directions." I plaster a fake smile at her idea. It was rather a stupid idea. I would never join that group in a million years but I was supportive of her.

Most of the time I was hiding out in my closet for lunch but today I decided to eat in Spanish class. Mister (or Señor) Shuester has really grown on me. He was the only adult I could trust.

I walk into his class. He smiles when he sees me.

"Any place you would like. But you have to be doing research."

Me:

"There are textbooks and a computer in the back if you need them."

I grab a book and take a seat in the far back of the class.

A few minutes in someone else enters the room. Its Blaine Anderson.

"Hola, Señor Schuester. ¿Cómo estas?" He asked.

"Hola, Señor Anderson. Soy muy bueno." Mister Shuester replied.

What the hell were they saying?

"Eso es bueno."

"Sí, sí."

"Uh... ¿Puedo trabajo mientras como?"

"Sí. tomar el asiento."

Blaine notices me and takes the desk next to mine.

"Hi!" He greets me as he opens up his lunch bag.

Me:

He lets out an awkward chuckle, "So... what are you researching?"

Me:

Blaine leans in to look at what Im reading.

"Religion." He nods, "I got clothing."

Me:

I could feel his awkwardness.

"Look, as lab partners we should probably be on our good sides and get to know one another."

Me:

"Youre really engrossed in your reading, arent you?" He asks. Jokes on him, I dont even know what "engrossed" means. Im just ignoring humans as much as possible.

"I came here to study because the cafeterias too loud. Are you doing the same?"

Me:

Why hasnt he gotten the hint that I rather not speak?

"Whenever you want to talk Im right here. Lab partners honer." He even raised his hand in emphasize.

Me:

He sighs and begins his studying.

I kind of felt bad. He was only trying to be nice. I just dont know how to respond.

"I uh... I dont have many friends." I finally say, "I came here because I know its a nice quiet place to eat and get started on my work."

He looks at me in bewilderment. Did I say something wrong?

"Um... yeah! That sounds like a reason to come here." He agrees, "Do you like Spanish?"

I shrug, "Its cool, I guess. The teacher seems nice. Hes the only one I got on the right foot with."

"The one and only?" He asks, his eyes grow big in astonishment, "But yes, Señor Schuester is really nice."

I wonder at this moment if Mister Schuester was listening in on us. He probably was, although, he seemed - as Blaine would say - "engrossed" in the book he was "reading."

Wow! I should probably look up that word. It sounds so smart... Doesnt it? Maybe working with Blaine wouldnt be that bad after all?