She cried,

Her shoulders shaking,

As she leaned against,

The hard concrete wall of the school.

She was the new girl again,

A new town,

A new school.

And she thought she had left,

All her fear of that,

At a school a year ago,

But she was wrong.

The stares burned into her back,

And she could see them questioning,

Who was this new girl,

Who started four months into the school year?

Some didn’t care,

She was just another a new girl,

And those came and went.

But as she cried,

She didn’t care about some small smiles,

That some girls had given her,

Because she felt so alone.

Then she heard a voice,

“Beautiful Girl,

You can do hard things.”

Her eyes where red and puffy,

Her cheeks splotched,

As she blinked up at that boy,

Who had found her hidden hiding place.

Then he held out a hand,

And said with a smile,

“Austin.”

Her hand shook his,

Trembling ever so slightly,

As she said,

“Constance.”

He smiled again,

And said,

“C’mon Connie.”

Friends are not given by chance,

And the best ones,

Creep up on us when we need them,

The most.