I've decided to write this book to capture the feelings teens have when they're in high school and they are rejected by their peers. I'm sort of having a hard time going about it, so I was wondering if you guys could help. If you read the following passage from my story and gave your perspective, I would greatly appreciate it.

Despite how reluctant Benji was to walk into the classroom, he grabbed hold of the door knob and slowly let it creak open in front of him, revealing a mass of faces all peering towards him, tittering over the news of a recent arrival to Carmel High School. Mr. David, the teacher of 9th grade history, stood patiently in the corner of the bleak room, waiting for Benji to approach his desk. With a deep breath, Benji took his first steps onto the linoleum floor, the sound echoing in the now silent room, all eyes glued on him. To feel so self-conscious was something Benji just could not bare. It seemed like every possible scenario of something embarrassing that could happen would happen within his first few seconds of attending the school. It was odd enough that he arrived in the middle of the first semester, a fresh face to the small and sheltered community; it was bad enough that all his classmates knew each other, and had known each other since kindergarten; every single aspect of the experience was piling up on his back, and Benji was certain he was going to collapse right there from all the mental pressure that was being exerted on him.
"Welcome to Carmel, Benjamin," Mr. David said in a cheery tone, the polar opposite of what Benji was feeling.
"Hi," Benji responded in a shy voice, hoping that the teacher would just instruct him to sit down immediately. Perhaps if he got to sit in the very back of the class all of the attention would be ripped away from him, a welcome relief from all this tension.
"Class, I'd like you all to meet Benjamin Ericson."
The majority of the class murmured back a "hello" to satisfy Mr. David, but in the rear of the class, Benji could already hear the hypercritical comments spouting. Look at his hair!... What is up with his outfit?... Are guys even meant to wear that?... Needless to say, the feelings being emitted from the less accepting students were already adding up the reasons why Benji was unhappy with his current position at the school.
With a quick glance to take in all the appearances of the students in the room, it was easy for Benji to identify the most eccentric person in the room: himself. One look at him and the rumor mill had started grinding, lies flying out of judgmental mouths within seconds. Now Benji had a sudden urgency to get out of the spotlight. Being seated in the back wouldn't be enough. He had to get out of the school, perhaps even the town itself. He couldn't cope with the cynics surrounding him, especially if he would have to endure it for the next four years of his life. The only other option to avoid being such an outcast was to change his personality and looks, and he wasn't willing to do so.
"Benjamin, why don't you go sit in the empty seat next to the window?" It took a few seconds for Benji to realize the teacher was speaking to him, too focused on his nearing doom. These students would terrorize him. He had encountered the same intolerance before at other schools. Once he had finally made himself disappear from the sight of others, his parents would unearth him from his social grave for their jobs and toss him into a new environment. It was a repeating cycle, and with the entrance to each different community, his vulnerability seemed to make him an even bigger target for criticism
Benji made his way to the open seat, trying to eliminate his bashfulness to offer a kind smile to those who were still staring at him, but it took all of his willpower not to cower in fear. Mr. David restarted his lesson to accommodate for Benji, relieving him of the many pairs of eyes, but some still remained even when the lecture was at full speed. All he could do was try not to let anyone pop his bubble of comfortability.
From first period onward, school was torturous. Each hour long class seemed to be a day in length, and it didn't help Benji that everyone was constantly whispering about him. It was almost like he was experiencing physical pain from all the spectators watching him like hawks waiting for their prey, for each time he made eye contact with someone staring at him, he flinched.
The clock was about to chime three, the magic hour; the time where school ended. Anxious in the few minutes before the bell was about to ring, Benji tapped his long fingers against his desk with a frantic beat, irritating the students around him. With this came more whispers, and along with that, Benji's desire to leave school was even stronger. Finally, the class came to an end, and Benji was out the door before anyone else, practically running through the now crowded halls to reach the front exit and start his walk home.