Moments in Time

Chapter One

Hiya everybody! The name's Quoteaddict and this is my first official story on here! So, please, don't give me too hard of a time, I'm still getting the hang of this. And I know that this chapter is going to be a little boring, it's only the first chapter. But I promise that it gets better!

Feel free to vote and tell me what you think of it so far! I'll try and update the best I can, but I can't say It'll be every day, probably once a week if I get lucky.

Also, if anybody out there finds a picture that would be good for this, it would be great if you sent me the link to it or something. I've been having some trouble finding some.

Thanks everybody out there reading this!

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Chapter One:

Ivan Luther

Quiet as usually, terribly tall, and clumsy as one can get, I very carefully try to make my way to my locker without running into anyone and making them angry with me. I just so happen to be not the most popular boy, nor the most talkative, nor the most out-going, nor the most graceful, and I really would dislike getting on the bad sides of the so-called jocks and princesses by running into them. I manage, thankfully, to make it to my locker -- which just so happens to be, unfortunately for my six-two self, a bottom locker -- but of course have the most horrific time getting into it. Hm.... Seven two four, right? Bang bang bang, a twist of the lock, seven, four, two, jam, two, four, seven, jam, four, two, seven, jam, seven, two, four, jam, four, seven, two, bang bang bang bang. Ah....

“Shit.”

I look up to see a red-headed girl in a wheelchair looking up at a locker above my head, her expression conveying frustration. Well. I would be quite frustrated too at such inconsiderateness. I am, I guess, my six-two self having received another bottom locker. Still, the offense is quite terrible, and even more so than the one committed on me. "Would you...well, would you like to switch?" I ask quietly, averting my gaze to look at the ground for a moment before looking back up to the girl, who is now looking at me with a curious expression on her face.

“You’d do that?” she asks, tilting her head slightly as she looks at me, causing some of that flaming red hair of hers to come off kilter. Her hair was short, about to her shoulders, but it suited her. And I notice that her eyes are the most beautiful dark green I have ever seen. The freckles clustered on her nose and cheekbones give her a slightly little-kiddish look, but I have a feeling that isn’t the case inside that head of hers.

“Yes,” I say, nodding slightly, indicating the bottom locker, “This doesn’t really suit me. I am six-two,” I say, looking back at her as I try desperately to remember if I knew her name. She looked familiar, I’m sure that I’d seen her around school a few times. But I was ignorant of her name.

“Well, thank you...” she trails off, waiting for me to fill the space where my name should go.

“Ivan. Ivan Luther,” I say, letting out a breath of air as I nod.

“Well, thank you, Ivan Luther,” she says, letting a smile curve her lips upwards, “My name is Lillian Black. I would prefer not to be called Lilli. I don't like the nickname. My name is Lillian, I wish to be called Lillian. That's my philosophy," she tells me, rolling her wheelchair in a little closer as a large group of passes by.

Lillian. What a beautiful name indeed; why anyone would want to shorten it is beyond me, and evidently, Lillian feels the very same way.

“Is there anything you need me to help you move, Lillian?” I ask in the shy voice of mine as I look down at her, shuffling my feet a little as I do so. A nervous tick of mine, I know, I just can’t help it.