Chp. 2 : Surprising Status

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I jiggled the lock, groaning as it stayed tight. Had I really put in my combination from eighth grade? I brushed hair out of my face, searching through my planner for the new combo.

Opening my locker, I fished out a few books, hoping I'd grabbed the right ones. I stood up from my bottom locker, shutting it and turning toward the stairs. Layers of students walked up and down, chatting and laughing with their friends. I squinted at a group of girls with too much lipgloss and popularity signs practically hanging above their heads in flashing lights.

Keeping a wide distance from anyone close to me, I claimed the staircase. It was so unlike me to be unsocial, but I didn't want any friends here. I guess some part of me still believed that if I didn't make any friends Mom and Dad would be forced to take me back home.

The warning bell rang just as I ducked into my first period class, and I hurried to the seat in the corner. I set my books down, sliding into the denim colored seat, a small but satisfactory desk attached to the front. A small note was scribbled on the desk, but I ignored it.
I sunk down deep into the seat, closing my eyes. This whole "no friends" thing was, frankly, peaceful.

"Hey. Get up."

I didn't open my eyes, assuming the masculine voice was addressing someone sitting near by.

"Are you asleep or something?" A hand prodded my shoulder, making me jump up.

I felt my forhead meet somebody else's, and whoever it was yelped in unison of me. I grabbed my forehead, peeking out between my fingers.

My jaw dropped. Never had I ever head-butted someone so...hot.

Standing before me was a golden skinned brunette, with a chiseled chin and adorable little freckles. Whoever it was had muscles visible under his shirt, and I felt my mouth watering.

"You're sitting in my seat!" The boy growled, obviously not happy.

Gaping was an understatement for my reaction. In 5 seconds of my new school, I had laid eyes on the sexiest man I'd ever seen, and set the world's greatest first impression.

~

Upon hearing the bell, after watching the clock for what seemed like hours as Mr. Teller agonize about the summary of our assigned reading, Flowers For Algernon, I scooped my books into my arms.

My forehead throbbed, as I could imagine it swollen and puffy by eighth period. I groaned, making a mental note to ice it.

I was the first of the class to slip out the door, turning down the hallway. But before I could reach my locker, I felt a hand clamp around my arm, forcefully. I spun around, coming eye to eye with a girl about an inch taller than me, with brown hair in a top knot, and noticeable curves. By the look of it, she wasn't happy.

"Hey." The girl said, her eyes narrowed in obvious discomfort.

"Hi?" I murmured, unsure of her purpose in talking to me.

"I saw you talking to Sam back in the room." The girl's cheeks were red, and I didn't know if they were always like that, or if it was because of her clear anger.

I raised an eyebrow, my confusion clear.

The girl winkled her nose. "You don't remember the only person you talked to in class?"

My eyes widened, remembering my brief encounter with the hot guy. "Oh. Yeah. That."

The girl was looking at me with such disgust and hatred, I wanted to shrink down to the size of a bug and hope she didn't see me.

"Whatever," she spat, "you can try all you want with him." Her hips swayed as she walked away. Before she disappeared around the corner of the hallway, she tossed another word over her shoulder. "Whore."

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