The bus ride was quiet, and I was relieved that the girl next to me didn't start a conversation.

When we arrived at school, I walked almost invisibly to my classroom, earphones in and music as loud as possible. This way, nobody would try to talk to me. It's better if they don't know me at all.

As always, I took my seat at the back of the class, where fewer eyes would be on me.

When everyone started to pour in, no one made eye contact or even looked my way. Why would they? They would gain nothing by trying to befriend me. And for the record, that goes both ways.

The lesson always starts the same way: repeating society's rules, preaching how happy we are to be perfect, and expressing gratitude that the illness of being different is eradicated the moment it's discovered before it even has a chance to spread. I don't know how long I can keep living in this "perfect" society, knowing I am anything but what they want me to be, a dirty ink blot on a nice clean paper.

The lesson begins, but I can't concentrate. My long hair itches on my back, and it's too hot in these stupid clothes. Just for a moment, I gaze at the boy in front of me. His short blond hair is beautiful. I want it too. I want to be able to cut my hair and wear the clothes I want. I want to breathe, make my own decisions, and live my own life.

"Miss Marron, I know that Mr. Collins is quite handsome, but leave the heart eyes and the staring for after my class," Miss Brock says pointedly.

Great, all I wanted was to be invisible until graduation. Now everyone's eyes are on me. Thanks for the extra burden, Miss Brock.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him looking away, not shy, but unsure how to act. Am I really that repulsive? Should I say something to defuse this, or will it only make things worse? What if I don't say anything, and they start teasing the both of us? I'm pretty sure that neither of us wants that.

Before I can even think any further, my lips start moving and the words just slip out. "I'm sorry to be a disappointment, but I do not like him that way. I have yet to like someone romantically."

And then the realization hits...

What did I just do? This is bad. What if they figure it out? They'll send me to a doctor, who will probably say that I need surgery. And then they'll kill me because they can't cure me, or I will have to act like never before and convince them that I am 'normal'. But then they'll keep a close eye on me at all times, and I'll have to keep up this act forever... Oh no, I can't do that. They'll figure it out sooner or later. I can't do this... I can't do this to my parents — they don't deserve this. I have to find a way out!

"I see. Louise, do you want to share something with us?" Miss Brock's voice is full of suspicion. I need to act quickly. Think, Louise, think.

"No, not really. I'm just waiting for the right one." I try to sound as relaxed as possible, but acting isn't my strength. She scrutinizes me for a few seconds before giving a nod.

"Of course! I'm sure he'll show up soon." She continues her lesson as if nothing happened.

But her words linger in my mind: "he." Why do I have to love a boy, or vice versa? What if I start to love a girl? Why would that be a sin? It's not like I choose who I fall in love with. Who on earth would choose to be a monster?