𝐈 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐈 | 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄

Ownership (n.)
the act of possessing something entirely
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    Being a loner had its advantages.

One wasn't distracted in class, one didn't have to skip going home immediately after school because 'friends' wanted to hang out, and no one would ever spill any secrets about the other. Of course, the disadvantage rate was higher: bullies, wrong homework answers, no one to talk to during lunch or passing periods, etc.

The list goes on and on.

(Y/N) couldn't help that fact.

She didn't mean to always be alone, but she was never too good at social interactions. In fact, she actively disliked them since she so easily would get flustered around other people.

So, she chose not to talk to them.

Currently, she was sitting in the overcrowded lunchroom with her table being one of the only ones without a crowd, courtesy of having it placed in the back. Letting out a small sigh, she propped up her head up and took a bite of her sandwich, staring at the middle of the room. The only reason she was still sitting alone after the many months she had started attending her new school was due to one reason: everyone being gathered around one table in the middle with one person sitting at the center of it all.

Now sipping on a juice box, she took in the boy's handsome features, knowing why everyone fawned over him. And it wasn't hard to see why since his dark hair was always perfectly styled to have that natural bed head look that went with his piercing dark eyes and flawless pale skin. He was always the center of attention, always the envied and idolized boy that every guy wanted to be and every girl wanted to date.

(Y/N) hummed at her thoughts.

He definitely is hot.

Oh, well.

Chuckling to herself, her (E/C) eyes still traveling over his muscled physique, she stood up to dump her tray into the trashcan before walking out of the room. Passing by loitering students who were chatting with friends or couples flirting with each other, she brushed her (H/L) hair behind her ear as she spun the dial to her locker, opening the metallic case and sliding a couple books out before closing it and continuing down the hall towards the science classroom. When inside, she then found herself staring at the white-coated back of the science teacher.

"(Y/N), you're ten minutes late. What happened?" The man questioned as he turned around to fold his arms over his broad chest, his form now leaning against the counter of one of the desks.

"Sorry, Mr. Henderson," she chuckled awkwardly as she set her books down on a nearby desk. "I was just finishing lunch and had to go grab my books from my locker..."

She glanced up at him.

He looked as good as he always did.

Thorne Henderson was young, very young—fresh out of college and ready to start his career as a teacher. He was also very attractive with light blue eyes and wavy blonde hair that was parted in a way that allowed some strands to fall across his face. (Y/N) always found herself nervous around him, but at the same time, not since he was one of the only people at that school she could talk to comfortably.

"That can't be helped, then," he gave her a charming smile as he sat down at his desk, gesturing for her to do the same. "Now, let's begin where we left off last time..."

Over the course of the thirty-five minutes that was lunch, (Y/N) was tutored in the respective aspects of her chemistry class that she didn't fully understand. While she did like the subject, she found that sometimes understanding some components of it a challenge, and enlisted Thorne's help in the process. Of course, several girls would often stop by and flirtatiously call out to him, but (Y/N) couldn't do anything about them, merely shaking her head whilst chuckling softly.

    She understood.

    He was young, attractive, and even had a slight English accent to boot.

    But (Y/N) couldn't see him that way.

    He was her teacher.

    After her lesson with Thorne had ended, she placed her Chem books back to then replace them with English ones before beginning the slow trek towards the large classroom, winding through the large clumps of students that lingered in the hallway. The bell rang just as she slid into her seat, a sigh of relief escaping her as the teacher cleared her throat to start class. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes sleepily and tried to suppress a yawn.

It's only the middle of the day and I already want to fall asleep...

    Forcing herself to stay awake and pay attention, she and most everyone else in the room startled when the door to the room suddenly slammed open. And there, standing in the doorway, was Cage Winters, the very boy that (Y/N) had been looking at in the cafeteria, envious of how well he was able to get along with others so easily.

"Mr. Winters," the teacher exhaled as she placed a hand to her chest. "I see you have chosen to grace us with your presence even though you are..." She flicked her eyes up to the clock before looking back at him to continue, "...fifteen minutes late."

"I apologize, Miss Carter," Cage smiled broadly, the look making girls swoon. "I was only late because I was helping my father out."

    It was no secret who Cage's father was.

    And at the mention of the Headmaster of the school, Miss Carter immediately did a 180 and gave Cage a thin smile as she gestured for him to sit down. Almost instantly, students were crowding around Cage wanting him to either take their seat, or for him to sit next to them, Miss Carter slumping in her desk at the whole fiasco.

(Y/N) merely sighed.

    She wished she could be as confident as Cage was, but she wasn't.

    She went back to staring out the window.

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To be continued...