humans are the only known creatures to cry

Caitlin McKay. her handwriting's as colorful as her name sounds. she knows how to dress well. she does her hair nicely. i've always admired her from a distance for these good attributes at a place as petty as a middle school. we sit at the same table in foods so we vaguely know each other.
today we had a real conversation. it went like this:
me: 'i suck at math.' (that's usually how i start conversations.)
Caitlin: 'me too.' (she passed the test.)
me: 'i'm still in pre-algebra.'
Caitlin: 'me too! hey... we're in the same math class!'
me: 'we-we are?'
Caitlin: 'last year i mean. you said everyone called you 'popcorn.''
me: 'oh yeah...'
Caitlin: 'yeah we thought you where weird.'
i open my mouth to say something but all that came out was a quite croak, like the words evaporated before anyone heard it.
'i mean, you're cool now.' she ads unconvincingly.
i think back to seventh grade math. i fell asleep every other class, due to my roommate's late IMSing with her boyfriend. usually every time i talked to someone my words where slurred and negative. i guess if i knew me then, i'd think i was weird too, but it still hurt bad hearing someone actually say it to my face, after months of thinking it in my head.
and who's 'we' anyway? 
half an hour later, Caitlin's words still fresh in my mind like a knife, i walk home. or, sorta dragged my feet towards home, listing to my i-pod with my headphones, the sound on high as if i can scare the weirdness away. 
gradually, i start feeling better. the dull cold and the overall grayness of utah in january didn't get to me, because although people think i'm weird, i'm strong, and i can get over the world's standards and start living up to my own.