She lies in the hammock, her place of refuge. The attacks had come again today; the name calling, the pushing and tripping, knocking books from her hands.

She didn’t fit into any of the school clicks, and she didn’t want to. They all had their stupid codes; the way they dressed, the things they did, the sports they played, or the level of their I.Q.

She liked being a mishmosh of unusual and unique things, but their cruel words and actions still hurt.

Some days were worse than others, and this one fell under one of the worst, so she had run home, tossed her schoolbooks on the kitchen table and retreated to her hammock. She breathed in the scent of lilac from the blooming bush in the corner of the yard, closed her eyes and slowly exhaled. Then she began to sing, a low and mournful song of loneliness and rejection.

When her song ended, a voice, so quiet she thought it came from the breeze, said, “Don’t stop. It’s beautiful. Your voice is the most beautiful I’ve ever heard.”

Her eyes popped open, and sitting on the ground two yards away, sat the most handsome boy she had ever seen. His hair hung to his shoulders in dark, unruly curls, his faded jeans had holes in the knees, and his pectoral muscles and biceps bulged through the “Star Wars” t-shirt he wore. His chocolate eyes studied her.

It was the first time she had ever wished she looked more like everyone else. He probably thought the purple streak in her hair was from hair dye. Did he think her black tights, short purple ruffled skirt and hot pink tank top and fingerless lace gloves odd? Did he notice that her eyes were two different colors; one emerald green and one cerulean blue?

“Please sing something else. Something less depressing.”

She didn’t know where this gorgeous guy had come from and she wasn’t sure she could sing knowing he was so near. She felt warmth creep into her cheeks, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes once more and she broke into another song. This time a song of hope, as she hoped this boy was not like all the rest.