Lack of writing.

I'm sorry for not doing anything on here in so long. I just don't get the time (nor inspiration) to write often. *guiltyface* When the computer's fixed I'll post my school story, and then we can all speculate over what mark Mr Wilson gave it. :P
Since I'm bored and my parents are watching some random thing on the TV that ain't Firefly, I'm going to write something right now. It'll probably be pretty bad, but you don't have to read it. :)
...
Okay... No inspiration. Partly blamed on parents' loudish TV. >:( Therefore, I'll use the proven writer's block blocker from Mr Wilson:
Girl+boy library books afternoonish

Whoa. That was my first thought when I saw the kids at this school. They all looked so... rich and perfect and smug. Pretty much the opposite of me. Hah. I seriously doubted I'd fit in at all. Almost turned around and skipped out on the first day of year 10, but they were all staring at me in my camo three-quarters and Threadless hoodie. I felt pushed to defend... I don't know. They just made me feel defensve or something.
Later that day, I first met Andrew. He is now, and was then, perfect poster boy material, I swear. Well, apart from the glasses. They're cute glasses though. Anyway, it was after science, in which I had sat at the front and tried desperately not to run out of the school. I got up after everyone had left, and, walking extra slow so I could avoid hearing anyone's gossip for more than ten seconds, I realised that it was lunch. Just great. Another chance to sit by myself for 15 or so minutes, but with no notes to take down or teachers trying to be creepy-nice.
So I bought my lunch and headed for the most isolated table of all, which nevertheless had a couple of kids wearing "I kissed a vampire and I liked it" t-shirts at one end. I managed to avoid their attention and set into eating my spaghetti bolognaise.
After I'd eaten a couple of forkfuls, I finally noticed a tray opposite mine which hadn't been there when I sat down. Hey, don't laugh. Eating spaghetti bolognaise without ruining your favourite hoodie takes a lot of concentration. Anyway, he laughed as I looked, startled, up at him. 'I would tell you that that's my seat, but I'm afraid I'd scare you off,' he said.
One of my eyebrows lifted up automatically, and I answered with the confidence I'd had among my old friends, 'You seem to be skilled at scaring me already, Mister "I Don't Tell People When I Sit Down By Them".' Near the end of that sentence, my voice cracked and I covered my mouth with a hand and looked down at my plate again.
He chuckled, and I only then heard the silence from the other end of the table. I looked up at where the other two had been, but I could only see them walking out the huge door, along with the rest of the school. I glanced over at him, and saw a name on one of his books as he lifted them up. Andrew Smith. 'The bell's going to go in a couple of minutes. Most people here like to be early to class. Avoiding the rush or something like that, I think.' I looked ruefully at my plate as I gathered my stuff, and then nodded minutely at him. Walking away quickly, I resolved to look him up on Facebook that night.
For the rest of the day, I could only imagine what his Myspace profile would look like. I didn't get to see him again, even at lunch, when I sat at another table and forced myself not to look at the boy I had so thoroughly embarressed myself to.

And now look where we are. We've been going out for a year, and I still can't understand why the rest of the school snubbed him because his dad is a labourer and Andrew only came to this school because he got a seventy-five percent scholarship from music and academic things. Paul's a nice chap, though he still seems a bit heartbroken over Andy's Mum. It's a bit creepy how well he and my mother get along, I must say.

Oops! Kinda broken the title, but oh well. Please point out any broken bits in the story itself to me. :) Have a good one.
Peace out!