It was about to be the summer of '88, and you were going to be graduating next month with all your peers. Around the school, you were known as a "goody two-shoes" or a "nerd" and all that type of stuff. But you couldn't help it. If you didn’t have straight A’s and perfect attendance, then you couldn’t get into your dream college, and if you didn’t do that, you’d be letting down your parents and disappointing them, turning into a complete disappointment.
You were currently sitting in the library doing homework for the popular jock Shane Walsh, with a small smile on your face as you thought about the date he promised you if you finished it by today. It only took you around 30 minutes to finish all of his homework, so you decided to go find him.
When you did find him, he was standing in the hallway, leaning against one of the lockers as a group of popular girls surrounded him, confusing you slightly. But you still walked over with a smile anyway.
"I finished all your homework, Shane," you said, holding out the papers to him
"Gosh, you are desperate," *Shane said with a smirk, causing all the girls around him to start laughing.
"What...?" you said quietly, your smile fading
"You really think anyone would want to go out with a nerd like you? You’re ugly too," Shane said with a scoff
You stood there frozen. The feeling of everyone’s eyes on you embarrassed you even more. Shane’s words hurt deeply. Did everyone think that too? Were you really desperate? You didn’t feel like you were, but what if you were, and you just hadn’t realized?
You slowly backed away from Shane, the sound of the girls' laughter slowly fading away as your mind raced with questions and worries. You soon turned your back to them and walked away quickly, your heart pounding in your chest.
You quickly made your way to the bathroom, immediately putting your hand up against your chest, feeling your heart racing, and looking up in the mirror as you watched yourself start to breathe unevenly. Your hands were shaking, your throat was closing up, and you felt trapped—unable to breathe. Soon, tears started to fall, and sobs broke past your lips.
You stood there crying, trying your hardest to breathe properly when, all of a sudden, you smelled cigarette smoke. Not wanting someone to get in trouble, you pulled yourself together as best as you could before speaking up.
“Y—you’re not supposed to smoke in the bathrooms,” you said, your voice hoarse and shaky from crying
It was silent. No one answered. You looked at all the stalls before your eyes fell on the one in the darkest corner. You slowly walked over to it before giving it a gentle push, and to your surprise, it was open.
But what was even more surprising was the sight of Daryl Dixon sitting in the corner of the stall, smoking a cigarette. You stared at him in confusion, so many questions running through your mind. Like why was he in the girls' bathroom? Why were his knuckles bloody? WHY WAS HE IN THE GIRLS' BATHROOM??
Except neither of you spoke a word and just stared at each other, you taking in his bloody and bruised face while he took in your red, puffy eyes and nose.