He was a high school freshman with a congenital birth defect causing a chronic limp that he had suffered with his entire life. For as long as he could remember he had been picked on because of it. Most of the other students referred to him as gimpy, not bothering to learn his real name, the more clever students preferred “the walking dead” or “Hopalong Cassidy” for those who knew who that was. He was ignored by practically everyone, including the teachers.

She was a high school sophomore who was the talk of the town. She was easily the most popular girl in the school, friends with everyone, and no one ignored her. She was a straight A student who was the front runner for valedictorian and likely Ivy League after that. The captain of the football team was her boyfriend. There was one major similarity between He and She, both of them were completely miserable.

He was walking down the hallway after class to his locker after a particularly difficult biology test. All of his classes were awful, he didn’t know how to get through any of them, his only hope was that he could skim past and not have to take them again. He didn’t even notice the foot stuck out in his way when he fell flat on his face.

“Gotta watch those two left feet huh gimpy?” it was the captain of the football team, the stereotypical high school jock bully. He did his best to ignore the football player but when he looked up he caught the eyes of the captain’s girlfriend. She was smiling but he knew that look behind her eyes, “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

The bully got in his face and he looked away. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” the football player stood up from his crouch and beckoned to his girlfriend to follow him, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

She spared one last look at him and then followed on the heels of her boyfriend. He brushed himself off and got back to his feet. It was an everyday occurrence for him so he wasn’t really mad. The anger had faded after a while. He got his bag from his locker and began the long walk home.

His parents weren’t home when he arrived, that was normal, they were rarely ever around; especially when he needed them. He tossed his bag onto the couch and galloped up to his room as quickly as he could. It would be a while before his parents got home, he had plenty of time. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out his bible. The slight pang of guilt stabbed at him before he opened the book to reveal his hiding place. In the hole he had cut out of the pages was a plastic bag filled with an assortment of prescription medications.

He closed and locked the door to his room before diving into his escape. He would be okay, if he just kept hiding it, if he just kept burying the pain. That little bag was the only reason life was worth living.


The music throbbed in a constant indiscernible bass line that was incredibly popular in contemporary audiences. The lyrics said something about sex or drugs, indoctrinating the kids at the party subconsciously. She danced in the middle of the floor, gyrating her pelvis against the hind end of another girl. Another girl was doing the same to her. It disgusted her and she didn’t want to be at this party. Instead of leaving she just took another swig of beer from her red plastic cup. The buzz wasn’t making her feel any better.

The night continued in an endless mass of bodies and suggestive movements. She pretended to have a good time and everyone around her believed it. Her boyfriend was up against her from behind. She felt it but didn’t really register the response. She was running on instinct now. These parties had become unconscious for her. She knew what was expected of her.

“Come on,” her boyfriend whispered implicatively in her ear. She only nodded in response and let him lead her by the hand through the throng of humanity, “Let’s get out of here.”

She didn’t remember the drive except that it was a miracle they had survived. Her boyfriend had stayed everywhere but the lane he was supposed to be in. She silently wished that she had died in that car and that what came next was only a terrible memory.

“Hey, are you okay?” her boyfriend asked, taking her hands in his and drawing her into his body. He didn’t really care, she knew that, but it was somehow comforting all the same. He brushed her hair from her face and his eyes shone sympathetically, “Something seems wrong.”

She almost spilled her everything to him, but that would just scare him away. She was strong enough to shoulder it because she needed him. So instead of telling the truth instead she replied, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”

“Well here,” her boyfriend began kissing her jaw line and unbuttoning her pants, “Let’s fix that.”

“No,” her voice was quavering and little more than a whisper. She immediately regretted saying it but the football player didn’t seem to have noticed or didn’t care. She didn’t want to do this, all she had to do was speak up or push him away. For all his faults he would respect her choice. All she had to do was say something and she wouldn’t have to feel disgusting.

She did it anyway.


“Hey bud?” his dad rapped softly on the door. He sat up in bed frantically, and put away his drugs in the drawer. Alive again, he thought disappointedly, better luck next time, “Everything alright in there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he didn’t want to unlock the door but did it anyway. He slowly opened it and looked up at his dad, “How was work?”

His dad looked into his eyes and worry covered his face but instead of asking about the dilated pupils and pallid skin he undoubtedly saw he said, “It was good, another drug bust today, so more off the streets.”

Funny enough his father worked for the DEA, but it wasn’t enough for him to ask the right questions. He was good at putting away drug dealers but he couldn’t talk to his son about what they both knew was going on. He swallowed hard before turning away and saying, “Your mom made dinner, come downstairs when you’re ready.”


A couple of weeks went by in the same way and he finally ran dry of his drug supply. He had already decided what he would do when that happened. “Have a good day at school,” his mom smiled sadly and kissed him on the forehead. He only nodded and waved at his dad as he went off to bust another drug lord.

After they were gone he went back upstairs to his dad’s room and made sure he could still remember the password to the lockbox. He opened it and picked up his dad’s handgun. It would be easy to just do it now. He looked down the barrel and then put it back, not yet.


She sat in the bathroom at her house on the floor with her head in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. She tried to stay quiet but it was impossible to keep the sobs down. Every minute or so she would look back at the pregnancy test in her hands, hoping it read differently each time, it never did.

“Honey,” her mom was on the other side of the door; she must have heard the crying. Her mom could say anything, anything at all and it could help her. She looked up at the door through tear filled eyes, “I’m leaving for work, have a good day. I’ll see you tonight.”

The tears came faster this time, and she looked away from the door. There was no answer to this; even her mom couldn’t help her. She swallowed hard and took one last look at the test before getting up to leave for school.


The school day dragged on for both of them as they waited for the end. As they looked at it there was only one thing they could do. There was a reason no one paid attention to him or liked him. There was so much that was expected of her, more than could be humanly fulfilled. If no one wanted him there, that was fine, he didn’t want him there. If she couldn’t accomplish all of the hurdles set out for her then she didn’t deserve to be there, it would be good to finally stop pretending. It’s decided, they thought, after school today none of it will matter anymore.

He failed two more tests and this time it didn’t matter to him. She got her first grade that was less than an A and that was no problem. Her friends said she seemed the happiest she had ever been. It didn’t worry any of them.

The day ended sooner than either of them had hoped. They were beginning to have second thoughts but when they thought about their situation they remembered there really wasn’t a choice anyway. He opened his locker and began cleaning it out. There was no need to leave anything in there; it wouldn’t be his much longer. She left hers the way it had been, taking one last look at the pictures of her friends and wondering if they would miss her before closing it for the last time.

He turned away from his locker without looking and ran into her. They both fell to the ground, dropping their bags. All of his books spilled out and cluttered the floor in a mass of school work.

“Avid studier?” She asked, picking up some of his books and handing them to him. At first he wasn’t sure that she was talking to him.

“Something like that,” he shrugged, hurriedly shoving the mess back into his bag. Then he actually noticed her. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, it was the girl with the sad eyes.

“You know,” she looked at him as if deciding whether or not it was worth saying. It wouldn’t matter in a few minutes anyway. Finally she resumed speaking, “I see you around here every day but I don’t know your name. Does anyone know your name?”

He looked at her curiously, not sure whether she was actually asking for his name or not. No one cared enough to even talk to him this long. Then he cracked a smile as he realized that she actually cared.

“I’m Ian,” he answered, the smile not leaving his face. For the first time he finally felt like someone was concerned about him. Maybe there was more to this world than he had thought, maybe he could give it another try, “Now one person knows it.”

“Well Ian, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Julia,” she extended a hand which he shook vigorously. She laughed, a bright real laugh, for the first time in too long. Then she remembered what she had to do and the laugh faded, “I hope you enjoy your studying.”

Julia turned to leave and Ian watched her slowly trod down the hallway toward the exit. “Julia?!” Ian called after her a little too desperately, thinking that maybe he was about to make and lose his only friend in one day. She turned around and looked at him sadly, “I’m really struggling in biology and I know you’re a good student. Do you think maybe you could tutor me?”

“I don’t know,” Julia was beginning to walk away again.

“Please, give me a chance,” Ian’s voice was steadfast and she knew that this was about more than just getting help in biology. If they wanted to get through this they needed someone who would listen to them. Everyone else they knew just avoided the important questions, “Please.”

“Okay,” Julia nodded as tears began to fill up in her eyes again. No more secrets, no more hiding, no more lies, it was a tempting offer, “Come on Ian.”

Ian walked back to his locker and put the books he didn’t need back on the shelf. Then he put his backpack on, smiled, and closed his locker.