Don't Be Shy

Chapter 1 ~ Spanish Class

~ Chapter 1 ~

Spanish Class

Spanish was not my strongest subject, it never has been.

Señora Gonzalez was handing back the tests we had taken last week. I was really nervous, my stomach was tight in knots. It was difficult, the most difficult I had ever taken. If I got a bad grade, my mom wouldn't be too happy.

As Señora Gonzalez slipped my test in front of me, she whispered, "See me after class." I knew this wasn't a good sign. Flipping over my paper, I realized I got a 58, a frown suddenly forming on my face.

Great, just great, I'm doomed, I thought to myself.

I could hear the cheers of my classmates who had done well on the test. This made me feel even worse than I already did. I felt like I wanted to crawl into a hole, never to be seen again.

As the bell rang to symbolize that class was over, I reluctantly got up and slouched over to meet with Señora Gonzalez at her desk. As I approached her, I kept my head hanging down low, trying to limit eye contact as much as possible with her. Out of all the people in the world, she was the last I wanted to see right now.

When all my classmates were out of the room, shuffling to their next class, trying not to be late, Señora began to speak to me.

"Your grades haven't been to good lately Summer."

"Uh-huh." I said, shrugging my shoulders, still looking down, as if I was so much more interested in my old, beat-up, blue Converse sneakers than what she was saying to me.

"The best thing to do is to get a tutor, and I have the best one in mind for you. He will be ready to see you at the library after school today."

I looked up, this had caught my attention. A tutor? I never had to go to a tutor in my life. I was actually a good student, known as The Brainiac in middle school. I remembered winning all the awards and making it on the honor roll. I guess high school was different, that's for sure.

"Summer? Do you hear me?"

"Yes Señora." I mumbled more to myself than to my teacher and began to walk out the door as she dismissed me. I could feel the faucet in my eyes get turned on, forcing them to begin welling up with tears. Walking into the girls bathroom, I began to cry.

*****

As I headed into the library, I was nervous, my heart racing like it was running in a marathon. I'm not the one who can be left with a stranger and be able to start a full out conversation with them. I was actually quite shy, never wanting to make friends, always wanting to keep to myself, and I was perfectly happy that way.

Taking a deep breath, I looked around, scanning the library. I kind of hoped I wouldn't see anyone waiting for me so I could just walk back out and continue my day as a normal Monday. Just as I thought this, I laid my eyes upon a boy. He had hair as blonde as the bright, shinning, sun and eyes as blue as the vast, shimmering ocean. He was sitting at the table with a smile plastered on his face, which seemed unable to be erase. He stared straight into my eyes and said, "Hi, my name is Niall Horan, what's yours?"