• He bent down to my level, he was at least a good inch or two taller than I was, and kissed my forehead lightly. “Have a good first day Skye.” He stated quickly, standing back up straight, only to turn and leave. I stared down the hallway, watching him go. You know there’s something wrong when your boyfriend, (a kisses you on the forehead, when he normally is a complete pig, going for the lips all the time, (b leaves you on your first day at a new school to fend for yourself, (c is in a hurry to walk away from you and (d calls you by your first name. I can’t really say I didn’t see it coming though. He’s been this way for weeks. Justin Michael Jackson. Tall, blonde, and at the top of the food chain, in high school at least, a jock. Not just any jock though, the Jock. Quarterback, go figure! I wrinkled my nose and scowled slightly. Regardless of the situation, there wasn’t much else I could do but deal with it. I turned and walked about a foot, alas I didn’t make it far before slamming into someone’s open locker. My first thought being, “Why the hell did this locker just let me hit it, why didn’t it move?” but then logic comes to me once more. The locker door was staying still; I was the idiot that ran into an inanimate object that wasn’t moving! I peer around, realizing for the first time that I’m on the ground, gah! My skirt…its dirty now, bloody pink skirt. Why am I wearing it? Right…Justin…

    “I’m sor…” I hear a male voice state, however his voice drifts off. I look up to see what we the people of the high school would call an ‘emo’, they were known for dark hair, hairstyles that covered most of their faces, eyeliner, girl pants(even the guys), and depression. Though the emo look has really been labeled as a fashion statement now; people don’t really get the concept of “emos”. His face screwed up into a look of disgust almost. “Oh, prep, never mind.” He stated, turning back to his locker, having to open it back up. This took me by complete surprise. Prep? Did he just call me a prep? My eyes peered down at that lovely pink skirt I’d mentioned earlier….right. Still! That was no excuse for calling me a prep, hell; I don’t even like this skirt! I prefer darker colors if I’m being honest; ha, in your face Justin, that’s right! I scrambled to stand up straight.

    “Excuse me?” I managed to keep my voice threatening low. I crossed my arms, scowling ever so slightly, waiting for an answer. It was a force of habit; I always cross my arms when something’s pissed me off. He looked back at me; one eyebrow arched, and then looked around as if I was talking to someone else. “I’m talking to you.” I hissed. His response was a somewhat ‘dramatically’ shocked face. The…he was mocking me! He faced his locker once more, grabbed something, and then turned to face me. He actually faced me for once, oh he was brave. You don’t joke around with a pissed off chick, you just don’t.

    “Nice to meet you too…?” He replied smoothly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. This cocky b*****d thinks he’ll get my name after being….such a cocky b*****d? I bit my lower lip, slowly letting my arms uncross. I needed to calm down; there was no point in getting so pissed off. I sighed, letting my bag slide down off my shoulder a bit then pushed some of my fiery red hair behind my ear. The color of my hair certainly matched my fiery temper.

    “…Skye and you are?” I answered simply; he didn’t need my last name. “Speak now or you’ll forever be known as that one cocky b*****d in the hallway.” I added sweetly, a small smile across my face. At first he just arched his eyebrow, but it was followed by a chuckle. Well…at least he had a sense of humor. I guess.

    “Charming, Miss Prep, however you may call me Anthony, but you know, whatever works for you.” He responded, emphasizing the you. Sarcastic too….wait…Miss Prep now? For bloody Mary’s sake I just told him my name. I rolled my eyes.

    “Cocky b*****d it is then?” I replied, venom in my voice. Its weird, I never really get mad like this, not even at my younger brother. What’s with this guy? Well…maybe I should have apologized? “Look, I’m sorry about…running into your locker, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” I added afterwards, thinking it best to apologize. This actually did take him by surprise. Though not long after, he quickly gained his ‘cool’ composure back. He’s smirking now…gah, here comes an insult; probably on my habit of running into things. Hey! He’d be just as distracted if he was dating the…star…you know, I’m just going to stop there, before that image gets burned into my head. I’d like to sleep tonight, thanks.

    “Obviously not.” He was terribly blunt about it. No, ‘Oh, its okay, it could happen to anyone.’ None at all. And he called me charming? I think he takes that title from me. Of course, before I could respond the, what I think is the, warning bell rang. Not that I would know since Justin is a useless boyfriend. Anthony examined my expression then smirked knowingly. “Warning bell, now, where are you headed?” he asked. Goodness, he was omniscient wasn’t he? I had no bloody idea where my first class was, or any of my classes for that matter. Justin again. I quickly looked to the bag hanging from my shoulder, quickly retrieving a small sheet of folded paper. Without much thought I just handed it to him, which he gladly took. It didn’t really bother me until his infamous smirk crossed his face. Oh dear. He handed the paper back to me, and then linked our arms, slowly but surely dragging me down the hallway. He was a bit of a forward git wasn’t he?

    “H-hey, wait a sec, where are you dragging me?” I managed to stutter.

    “First period Art II love, we have that class together.” he responded, a chuckle in his voice, yet it mocked me terribly. What? We had first period together? And it was art? Well…maybe he wasn’t that bad; I mean he’s taking Art II right. Did he just call me love? Hmm…well it’s an improvement from Miss Prep I guess. Kind of hurts though…Justin doesn’t call me anything but Skye now a days. My god, my relationship really is crumbling isn’t it? If I made you a list of all the things he used to do, and what he doesn’t now, you’d surely agree. When I finally regained my train of thought, I noticed that we’d entered a classroom, and yes, oh yes; it was most definitely an art classroom. It smelled like it, had an art room aura, and tasted like one.

    Well…maybe not tasted like one, it’s not like I licked the floor or something to determine that! Anthony, as he’d done for the past five minutes, dragged me to the back of the class room. And eventually he sat me down in one chair, as he took the other. I examined the room, noticing that the tables were arranged much like my middle school science room. There must have been at least ten tables, seating two people, facing the front of the room. Unfortunately, that meant that I was indeed stuck with Anthony. I decided to focus my attention on the teacher, instead of the students in the room. She looked a bit like a hippie, if I’m being honest. I made a mistake though, I was looking right at her, and our eyes met.

    “Oh!” Our teacher exclaimed; I’d learned her name earlier, Ms. Kendal (though pronounced Candal, weird right? She does at least…). “We have a new student everyone.” she practically sang. No…no it’s okay; don’t point me out to the whole class! This is going to happen all day! “Miss Roux?” She began. Oh no. “Why not stand up and introduce yourself?” She finished. Somehow, she’d gotten closer to the back of the room now, her attention and everyone else’s turned to me. I looked to Anthony, as if for help, but he just leaned back in his chair, watching me with interest. Thanks…you’re a lot of help Anthony! Somewhat gingerly I stood up, some of my dark hair falling in front of my face.

    “Er…well, my names Skye…” I paused, looking around the room once more. This really didn’t help. I wonder what they’d do if I told them my whole name? As if they can’t tell I have a bit of a French twinge. Skye Dominique Élodie Roux. Yeah…I bet most of them couldn’t even pronounce my name. I took a deep breath, then decided to speak, I’d stood too long. “I just moved here from Marseille.” I finished and sat down. My French accent was really strong when I spoke either, French, or just named cities and such. Why….is everyone still looking at me?

    “Say something in French?” I hear from my side, my other side, not the one Anthony’s sat on. I peer over towards the voice to see a girl with medium length black hair with light gray eyes. I ponder what to say for a moment then respond.

    “Anthony a yeux verts (Anthony has green eyes)?” I say, and the whole class shows interest. Of course, Anthony, at the mention of his name looks at me suspiciously. I could see that they wanted more, as could Ms. Kendal.

    “Everyone settle down, this is not French class!” she screeched. You did ask for it when you made me talk Kendal my dear. I couldn’t help but smile all through out the rest of class. Ms. Kendal didn’t call on me anymore, however she did squeal when noticing my sitting next to Anthony, apparently he was her star that lit up her world. That sounded creepish though. However, I could turn to him for help. As the class sat anxious for the bell to ring I pulled out my schedule. And as if the bell was plotting my demise, it rang soon after. I scanned the paper for my next class.

    “Second period Algebra II.” Anthony’s came from behind me. I nearly jumped.
    “Not right, you don’t sneak up on a girl, at least not this girl!” I exclaimed, grabbing my bag, heading out the door. He followed me, of course, a smirk across his face. “What?” I asked; that look…it made me feel as if I’d made a mistake.

    “You’re going the wrong way.” he responded simply. I quickly made a U-turn, Anthony close behind me. As we walked the halls cleared up, he came to stand next to me. “So…what exactly did you say about me earlier?” he asked curiously. Oh ha ha, that was bugging him? Good.

    “Êtes-vous inquiété (Are you worried)?” I purred, rather full of myself at this point. Fantastic, usually French was my release from it all; no one knew what I was saying.

    “No…but really now, my eyes are more of a blue-green.” he said, I could practically hear a smirk in his voice. No! Are you serious, he knows French! We stopped by a classroom; I was guessing the Algebra II room. My mouth formed an ‘o’ as I turned to face him. He leaned closer to me until our faces were nearly touching. “Vous avez un accent mignon (You have a nice accent).” he whispered, before pulling back. “Well, I have Welding next, see ya after second, I‘ll wait for you after class, otherwise you‘ll never make it to English” he said chuckling. He then turned and walked down the hallway smoothly.

    “Merci… (Thank you)” I managed to say, of course I was at least a minute late, and he was already gone! This guy had managed to piss me off then make me flustered as hell in a matter of hours! He scares me…he has some sort of weird mind control or something. I suspect him to be….umm some hero that can read minds? Edward Cullen? Yes…he is pretty….STOP RIGHT THERE! You have a boyfriend Skye. One that doesn’t necessarily love you anymore, but you still have one. The bell snaps me out of my thoughts and I make my way into my Algebra II classroom. I was fairly decent when it came to Algebra, so I’d do okay, right? …Algebra…class…with no one I know.