Echos of Yesterday

Chapter 2

The school bell rang in my ears as I was walking down the school's crowded hallway. A familiar feeling embraces me like a tight hug. It was the beginning of my final year at Brodwin High. The chatter of students and the opening and closing of lockers filled the air, mixed with the announcements from the intercom. I ignored the announcement and headed to my locker.

The moment I opened my locker, a loud clang of metal echoed down the hallway, followed by a sharp, high-pitched shriek that made me jump. Startled, I quickly slammed the locker shut, only to find my best friend, Vanessa, standing there, rubbing her nose and glaring at me with mock outrage. "Yo, sorry, Vanessa. I didn't see you there," I apologized. You better be sorry, I'm auditioning for the fashion club, and I can't have a broken nose." She joked, and she pulled me into a tight hug.

Vanessa has been my best friend since middle school. Many people consider her a walking model. She has long black hair, piercing green eyes, and smooth olive skin. But for me, she is a smart and kind girl with a great sense of fashion. She used to live in my neighborhood, but she joined my school in the middle of freshman year. Since then, we have been inseparable.

"So, are you going again for the school vice president?" Vanessa asked as we were walking to our history class. "I don't know," I replied. I have been the school president three times in a row, and honestly, I was getting bored.

History was our first class of the day. Entering our history classroom brought me a sense of familiarity. The walls were still covered with world maps and pictures of historical figures. The chalk dust collected on the floor below the blackboard. I took my usual seat near the window, with Vanessa plopping down beside me. She continued to talk about her fashion club audition, while I absentmindedly stared out the window. The campus lawn outside was buzzing with life as students milled about, chatting and laughing.

As our History teacher, Mr. Davis walked into the class, the class quieted down. He placed his leather suitcase on his desk and began to write something on the board. He then turned to face the class and smiled warmly. "Welcome back to another year of history, everyone. Let's hope it's as exciting as the last." I never liked history class but Mr. Davis had his ways to make it bearable.

My drifting thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching near the doorpost, growing louder with each step. I turned my head just in time to see a familiar figure standing at the entrance—Miles, the student council president, and my boyfriend. His presence was always hard to miss, with his tall frame and confident posture. He scanned the room briefly before locking his blue eyes with me, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Amber," he said, leaning against the doorpost, "I hope you're ready for another year of chaos."