the freshmen 500 || h.s

Chapter 7

The cafeteria.

I can't think of a more vile and disgusting place in this world. Kids aimlessly leave their trash without bothering to pick it up. The cafeteria is not only deleterious to a students health, but also to their self-confidence.

Upon first glance, you'd think that people sit with their friends. When you look closer you can see that the different 'social rankings' sit together (whether they like each other or not).

The popular kids sit with other popular kids, ghetto people sit with other ghetto people, and so on. The cafeteria is a horrible place fore people like me because I don't know where I fit in.

For now, I sit by myself at a table next to the geeks and anxiously wait for Hollis to sit next to me.

"Hey loner." Hollis says, setting her lunch down beside me.

"I was only alone because I was waiting for you to get that pathetic excuse of a lunch." I nod towards her school lunch and she sticks her tongue out at me.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn to see a boy behind me. He reeks of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke but, I can't lie, he's gorgeous.

"Hi Aria." He says, handing me a rose. "I just wanted to say that I think you're really pretty and I'd love to get to know you better. I'm Zayn by the way." He turns and leaves and I turn back around to face Hollis. Shock is evident in both of our faces.

"That was unexpected." I say, taking a sniff from the rose.

"Yeah. You sure are popular." Hollis says, sounding a bit disappointed. I don't say anything back to her. Instead, I examine the rose and find a piece of paper attached to the flower. When I unravel the paper, I see that it's Zayn's phone number. I blush at how thoughtful the gesture is.

"Listen Aria. I'm glad that boys are giving you attention but can you try not to...rub it in my face so much?" I snap out of my thoughts and look up at Hollis.

I didn't think I was rubbing it in her face...was I? If I was, I didn't mean to.

"How was I rubbing it in your face? I barely said anything." I'm completely shocked that she's say something like that.

"Just don't feel bad when you actually fall in love with one of those boys. For all you know, they're just trying to get in your pants." She stands up and walks away, leaving me completely confused and alone at my table in the cafeteria.

. . .

The month of August is surprisingly hot and humid in my hometown. Because of this, I was thankful to be in my dad's well-airconditioned photography gallery.

I was working on my introduction to biology homework when I saw black boots in the corner or my eye. I looked up to find Harry.

He took a seat beside me and chuckled at my homework.

"I didn't take you as a photography fan. I thought you liked art." He said, looking around the gallery.

"Im not here because I like photography. This is my dad's gallery."

My dad is the best (and kind of the only) photographer in my hometown.

"Your dad is Jeffery Willson?" Harry asks, shocked.

Like I said, he's pretty well known.

"Guilty." I laugh. To be honest, I didn't take him as a photography fan either. Then again, dark and mysterious guys tend to be...artistic. Whether it's art, photography, or Jane Austin novels, guys like Harry most likely have an artistic hobby.