Not Your Typical Love Story

Chapter One

Bianca

I'm perfectly comfortable as I sit on the desk, my feet resting on Dylan Campton's lap despite his loud and obvious objections. I ignore him, nudging my vans into his rib to make him stop, which earns me a glare from the blonde I call one of my closest friends. He tells me I'm being rude, but it's not like I've ever been able to fully coexist with being polite anyways.

It's a few minutes before first bell even starts, and we're enjoying our time in the back of the room, talking and being rambunctious, as per usual. Our stuff is spilled all over the tables, and there's more doodles than notes in our books. We're flinging around highlighters, pens, whatever our hands touch.

To say we had been bored beforehand had to be an understatement. Who honestly came to school and had fun? The only good thing about school was friends, and anything outside that area was just awful.

Today was supposed to be a prank day, hence why we'd come to school early when we clearly would've rather been somewhere else. But our designated prankster, Josh hadn't even showed up at all, and no one had a clue as to why. The reason for why he's MIA probably won't even be clarified until one of two things happen: one being that he texts us himself - which would require him responding to one of us and he hasn't - or two, gossip gets around the school - and gossip seemed to be something our school thrived on.

The goody two shoes who sit up front look at us funny, obviously irritated with the noise we were making. Sending glares in return, the quickly back off and look away, clearly without a spine. They know full-well that we can make their lives a living hell if they do something wrong.

Out of habit, I take the gum I'd been chewing out of my moth and stick it to the underside of the desk, where I don't even have to look to know that there's plenty other that accompany. Despite our school's anti-gum policy, no teacher ever really cared enough to enforce it, so it had quickly become something a lot of us did.

This, among other things, is what really bothered teachers, and caused assemblies and complaints as well as lectures. We were the type of kids school always complained about.

Glancing at the clock, it tells me that it's almost time to start class. Half the students have already filed in, and the noise level has definitely picked up. It's time to take our seats.

Much to Dylan's relief I swing my feet off to the side, sliding off the desktop to claim my own seat. Just to annoy him, I ruffle his air, amused as he tries to reposition it. It was something we'd started up a while ago, something we did just to annoy one another. We were both pretty picky when it came to our hair, and it was a show of close friendship to see that neither of us murdered the other for screwing up the oh so holy hair.

But annoyingly, such a friendship always came with the kids who thought we were dating. It happened more often that you'd imagine, and far more often than I had patience for. It was mainly just the freshman or the new kids, but like I said, our school thrived on gossip and word had gotten out that if one more person asked I'd be tempted to wring their neck.

The questions died down immediately.

I watch as the teacher comes in, completely oblivious the fact that most of us are actually here on time and not scrambling in last minute. He places his belonging on the desk and takes a sip of coffee from his thermos, eyes focused on his desk and what must be today's lesson plan.

When he finally looks up and his eyes lands on me they widen in surprise, almost as if he's being delusional and doesn't quite trust his eyes. But it's gone in the matter of seconds, replaced with one of sternness. "How nice it was of you to join us, Ms. White."