I’m Carly and I’m a high school freshman for a month now. 15-years old, shoulder-length brown hair, acne breakouts all over my face. I take the school bus to and from Almond Mesa High School every day. It’s about a 15 minute ride.

High school sucks. I’m so lonely. I’m a quiet girl so it’s hard to make friends and the few friends I have are still at the middle school so I don’t even have them as friends anymore. I don’t fit in anywhere at school. I eat alone at lunch. I’m definitely not a popular girl or the girlfriend of a boy on the football team which are mostly the same girls. I guess I’m a nerd but not in the cool way. I’m not a smart nerd. I’m C-minus Carly. I’m a nobody.

Today I’m on the bus as usual. I sit in the window seat and look out at the same houses and the same stores. The aisle seat next to me is always empty since I have no friends to talk to. The other girls have best friends and the boys are bros with each other. There are two couples and one pair makes out on the entire ride to school.

Today becomes not a usual day. A boy sits next to me. A cute boy. A handsome boy. Six foot and slender and he looks strong. I think he’s on the football team.

He’s looking at me. I’m looking straight ahead as I have trouble comprehending such an attractive boy sitting next to me let alone gazing at me and my boring plainness.

“Hi, I’m Austin,” he says holding out his right hand.

I glance at him, look away, then look back into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Carly.” I limply proffer my hand.

Austin shakes my fingertips.

The next few bus rides he sits with me and greets me with a “Hi, Carly!”. It’s like he’s glad to see me. I could never imagine a boy like him would be friendly with me. We talk a little and he’s a junior so it amazes me even more that he’d be around me. I find myself smiling when he sits next to me and I don’t ever smile. Life is too depressing. There’s nothing worth smiling about but I think I finally have a friend and he’s a cute boy. The fifteen minute ride to school is the only good part of my life. He doesn’t take the bus home because he has practice. I look forward to going to school just for those brief moments with Austin. What a wonderful five days!

For the first time ever I’m sad it’s the weekend and I can’t wait until it’s Monday to go to school.

My heart is happy when Austin again sits with me on the bus.

“Carly? Can I ask you a question?”

I nod staring into his blue eyes. Austin could ask me just about anything.

“Would it be...” He grabs my right hand with his left. His fingers are rough but I feel a chill in my body. “ ... if we...” He puts my hand on my leg. “ ... hold hands?” He puts his hand on top of mine. My heart races and my face feels flush.

“Yes,” I reply, “ ... Austin.” I feel all warm inside and I’m happy I used his name.

“Good,” he says.

I look down at his big hand covering mine, protecting it. I smile.

Each morning we still don’t talk beyond greetings. I think I’d like to talk with him about something, anything, even school. I’m not sure. It may be for the best that he doesn’t want to talk. I would surely say something stupid and he’d sit somewhere else.

I had nothing and now I have a friend. I need to appreciate that. How many plain freshman girls like me get to hold hands with a boy like Austin?

“Carly? Would you be my girlfriend?”

I’m in shock. I look at him for any sign he might be joking or tricking me. I open my mouth and want to say “Yes” but all I can do is nod. That’s enough for him to understand.

“Good,” he says.

He slides on the bus seat so he’s right next to me then he puts his arm around the back of my shoulders drawing me to him. His hand touches my elbow. I feel uneasy. I’m not sure I’m ready for this but I’m up against the window so I need to accept it. I’m conflicted on wanting to escape and wanting to be in his arms because that’s what girlfriends do.

“Just relax,” he says.

For the week, he uses his arm to cuddle me into him and I get used to it but I can’t seem to relax.

“Hi girlfriend!” He sits down and slides up against me. His greeting makes me feel warm.

“Hi, boyfriend,” I answer back. Saying that makes me happy.

He puts his arm around me but his hand cups my left boob. His right hand grabs my right boob. His hands squeeze them through my bra. My boobs are small. I only wear an A cup. Austin is rubbing them with his hands over my shirt and bra as if I am a popular girl with big boobs. I feel like I’m being mauled but there’s something exciting about it too. I can’t explain it. He doesn’t stop during the whole ride until the bus slows down at school.

“Carly? Would you do something for me?”

I nod.

“Don’t wear a bra tomorrow.”

I gulp.

“See you tomorrow, girlfriend!”

My mind is distracted all day at school. I can’t help thinking about the bus ride and how he squeezed my breasts and about his request.

When I get home, I still can’t stop thinking about Austin asking me not to wear a bra. I want to please him but I don’t think I can do it. I toss and turn all night and dream that I show up to math class naked and everybody stares at first and I feel ashamed but then I sit down at my desk and it’s like nobody even notices me or cares or is interested.

In the morning I decide what I’m going to do.

“Hi girlfriend!” Austin greets.

My boyfriend wastes no time wrapping me in his arms and grabbing my boobs through my shirt.

“Nice.” His voice sounds very happy.

Austin can pull on my breasts now and he likes making sure my nipples stay hard points. His squeezing and pressing and pushing is more uncomfortable without the protection of my bra. When the bus arrives at school, my boobs feel like they’ve gone through a workout. They feel sore and tired.

It takes me an extra minute to leave the bus. I’m wearing my bra after all. I had it pushed down below my breasts so I satisfied his desire not to wear a bra and my need to wear a bra. I pull up my bra over my breasts.

My mind is distracted again but not about what is going on during the bus ride. Austin is my boyfriend but our only interaction is on the bus. I’ve been scared to sit with him during lunch. Other popular boys and their girlfriends sit with him. There’s also a pretty blonde girl who sits right next to him and she and Austin are always laughing and touching and sometimes kissing but I’m Austin’s girlfriend. He said so!

I work up the nerve. At lunch I approach the table where Austin and his friends sit. Most of them haven’t arrived yet. I start to sit.

A boy says, “Hey! What are you doing? You can’t sit here!”

“I’m...” I begin to explain but am cutoff by Austin

He says, “You need to sit at another table. You can’t sit with us.”

I turn away to hide my feelings of rejection. Tears water my eyes. I walk away.

I overhear the boy say, “Who does she think she is?”

I walk to my usual table to sit basically alone. Other loners sit at this table but we don’t talk. As I sit down I answer the boy’s question. I’m nobody. I’m a loser. I’m someone no one cares about. I’m alone. I want to go in a cave and disappear. No. What would be the point of that? I barely exist now.

It’s a painful last two classes until I can ride the bus home then sob into my pillow.