I gathered my courage, then walked towards her. She looked so pretty with her long, dark red hair falling in her emerald eyes, her brow furrowed as her eyes swept across the pages of the book. The way she held herself, so composed, even though she didn't have a care in the world. She smiled at something in the book, and I watched her green eyes light up.

I walked closer to her, and then sat in the seat beside her. She looked up, surprised.

"Hi! It's Justin, right?" she asked. Another thing I liked about her, she didn't care how popular I was. She didn't know me or try to.

"Yeah," I said. "And you're Peyton." I watched her smile.

"Yeah, everyone knows me. The girl who disappears from class for no reason." In a split second, I see pain and sadness flash in her eyes, and then it's gone.

"Why do you go anyways?" I ask, forcing myself to look her in the eye. "I mean, you don't have to answer. I was just wondering though."

"No, it's fine," she says, shaking her head. She takes a deep breath, then looks at me. "I have leukemia. Have had it since I was nine. It's not, like, bad or anything, but my dad signed me up for sessions with the school counselor about... stuff, like that, and my dad never being around, and my mom..." She trails off, and again, I see the pain, but this time, it's more sadness.

I wait, not pressing her.

"Because, you know, I've never even spoken to her, because she died when I was eight freaking months old!" She finishes wistfully, rolling her eyes. Then she looks at me. "What about you?" She asks. "What's your life like?"

"Well, I have four sisters and four brothers. Mathew is in kindergarden, Jodi's in fourth grade, Grace is in seventh grade, Brooklyn's in eighth grade, Kevin's a senior, Jace is a sophomore at MIT, Scarlett's at Harvard Law, and Brady is married to a New York City fashionista and has five kids of his own. My parents have never disciplined us once in our entire lives. Yay!" I say, the last word coming out super sarcastically.

"Wow, well, that's quite a family. I have two brothers and three sisters, but all of them have moved out of the house already. Given that when my Dad isn't in France, he's working fifteen hours a day, I'm almost always home alone."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Well, that's my life for ya," she said. I felt so bad for her. She's never spoken to her mother, her dad's never around, she has a dormant leukemia, I knew that in grade school her best friend died, she has just had tragedy after tragedy. And yet she's still happy. I truly admire her.

"Well, I have to go," I say. As she stands up, she waves a quick goodbye, which I return, and I walk away, albeit reluctantly.