Ava
I had learned a long time ago that being intelligent came with a price.
At school, it meant sitting alone.
It meant whispers behind my back, eye rolls whenever I answered a question, and the occasional insult hurled in my direction by people who seemed to think having a brain was something to be ashamed of.
The younger members of the pack had labelled me a nerd.
I didn’t care.
Why should I?
I wasn’t going to pretend I was stupid just to make other people feel better about themselves. I knew I was smart. My parents knew I was smart. And if everyone else wanted to treat me like a leper because I actually enjoyed learning, then so be it.
At least books didn’t judge me.
They didn’t whisper.
They didn’t laugh.
And they certainly didn’t make me feel like there was something wrong
