I was thankful to be with someone that might actually put in as much effort as I do. Plus he actually seems really nice, unlike my other “friends”. I go up and get a poster from Ms Mason and set it on the desk. “So what we’re you thinking for the design?” Zach asks me. “I was thinking we could but a line at the top and then split the paper in the middle so we each have a side.” I run my finger over the paper showing him where the line will be. “Sounds great.” I pull out my markers, and hand him a black one. “I draw terrible lines, even with a ruler.” He laughs and takes it from me. After we have the lines drawn, Zach writes his name in the left box, and I write mine. “We can probably just do bullet points, and write down I play hockey or something.” He says. “Do you?” I ask. “Do I what?” Zach asks. “Play Hockey.” “Oh, yeah. I do.” “No way? Really? That’s cool.” I never would have guessed he played hockey.  “Yeah, thanks. You play football right? That’s cool.” Ha, if only he knew the truth. “Yeah I do, but I don’t really like it.” Well now he knows. “How could you not like football, you get to be popular and it’s probably the most appreciated sport at this school. Wait why do you play if you don’t like it?” He asks. “Well, I only play cause my dad was really proud when I joined the team in the beginning, so I decided to make him happy plus, I barely even do anything. And being my kind of popular sucks. No one ever talks to me unless they need a good grade on a project, or they need me to do there homework for them.” Why do I feel this comfortable around him, it’s like I’ve known him longer than one class period. Honestly, it’s nice to tell someone. “Yeah, I see now that popular isn’t always good. I mean I’m just the weird kid, which sucks at some points, mostly cause of bullies, but otherwise it’s sort of nice to not be noticed sometimes I guess.” “Bullies? Who bullies you?” I ask, hoping for a different answer than the one I have in my head. “Oh um… your friends mostly.” I grimace. “Not you, of course, I actually never really see you with them, accept lunch maybe.“ “I’m sorry about them, they are jerks. Honestly that’s over half the reason I hate football. The other 1/3 is the playing and practice. Other than that I love watching it. I just score the game winning points, and they don’t really even congratulate me.” I let out a weak laugh. “Wait, are you planning to go to college with a scholarship for football? Since your good, or do you hate it that much?” “I’m actually somewhat smart, unlike my buddies over there. So I plan to go to Stanford on a full ride academic scholarship.” His eyes grow wide. “You need to be a little more than somewhat smart to get into Stanford, so your probably like Einstein smart.” Then his eyes light up. “Wait, you said Stanford. I want to go there to. I might get a scholarship for hockey. But I need to get my GPA and grades up. So I need to study, more than I ever have.” “No way, that means your really good at hockey?” I look at him, amazed. “I’m alright.” He says looking down, blushing. “I can help you.” I say all of a sudden. “What?” He looks up at me. “I can help you study. Get your grades and GPA up. Then we both can get a pretty good chance at Stanford.” Zach looks at me, confused, “Wait, you want to help me? Like help the weirdo, who has only two friends. Wouldn’t your friends think your weird because your even talking to me. I mean I don’t want to ruin your social life, and all your coolness.” “Like I said before, your not a weirdo, and you have three friends now. Plus I have no social life. And is coolness even a word?” He laughs, and I smiles at him. “Yes, I thought you were smart and knew the entire dictionary.” I start laughing too. The bell rings suddenly. “Ah, we got nothing done. That’s okay. We still have 2 days, plus if we can work on it when I come to your house to help you.” “Right right.” Zach says and turns to leave. “Hey, Zach” he turns to me. “Yeah?” I reach in my back Jean pocket and pull out my phone. “Put your number in here, and text me your address and what time your available tonight to work on this.” He takes it hesitantly and types his number in. “There ya go,” he says, “I’ll see you later, if we have any more classes together.” I say sliding my phone back in my pocket. “Yep, see ya.”