Blood & Lust

Chapter One

    “Oh my God, could this class end any sooner?” I muttered to myself as my English teacher, Mrs. Mateo began to drone on about the similarities between the play, Taming of The Shrew and the movie Ten Things I Hate About You. It was only meant to be to myself, but Raven leaned in toward me.

    “Couldn’t agree with you more, Willa.” She whispered under her breath before she went back to doodling on her notebook paper.

    Absentmindedly, I placed my hand under my chin to keep my head up, and I tried my best to keep myself awake. But somehow, the lethargic feeling was slowly winning the battle. Normally I’d never fall asleep in class, but lately I’ve been exhausted for some unfathomable reason. I shouldn’t be like that, but I guess I’ve been bored with the same receptiveness I’ve dealt with at Westfield High School lately.

    I know what your thinking, why am I going to one of the most ghetto schools in the city of Houston? Well, the answer is quiet obvious if you looked at my life most recently. I used to go to a school in a different city, a different state, but not as ghetto as my new school. Los Angeles High School was like the normal high schools, like the ones on TV, except there was lots of blue, but I didn’t care. I was happy there, and that’s all that mattered at the time. California was my save haven, from it’s beautiful coast lines, to the beautiful wine country (not that I’ve been since I’m under twenty-one, but I’ve seen plenty of pictures of it).

    My life was complete—though it felt a little clichéd recalling all of the good times I’ve had back home as I quietly wrote in my notebook, and listened to the teacher.

    I don’t know why all of a sudden my parents suddenly decided to transfer me to that horrible school, something about Texas being the cheapest state in the country, but all I knew was the first day I got here I felt as if I’m entering an alien planet. From my short two months here, I’ve never been in a school where the majority of the students are rude to their teachers. Where students curse like sailors, and dress like whatever they see on MTV like it’s an everyday routine. At the time, I felt like it was school for wanna-be celebrities, especially with the rappers and singers that keep trying to make their mark (but when the truth is, they actually suck). I was also glad that no one has asked if I’ve ever met any celebrities living in L.A. because even if I wanted to make friends by saying that I have, but the truth is, I’m just a terrible liar.

    When the bell finally rings for lunch, I stuffed my books into my backpack before I slung it over my shoulder, and walked out with Raven and headed towards the cafeteria.

    “That was the most boring lesson I’ve ever heard!” Raven whined obnoxiously. “I mean, if I wanted to compare movies to Shakespeare, I’d take a theatre class, if you know what I mean.” She added with a meaningful look, like I should really know what she means.

    “Yeah.” I mumbled as I ran a hand through my long, reddish brown hair. My hand absently rubbed against the small scar I’ve had on my neck for as long as I could remember, out of habit.

    I don’t know how I got my scar, but every once in a while, whenever I get nervous, I’d find myself rubbing it unconsciously. It calms me in it’s own weird way.

    Raven and I continued to walk until we got in line to grab ourselves some sandwiches. After we’d purchased our food, we walked toward our usual table where we found our friend Josh, and…a stranger.

    “Who’s he?” Raven whispered, confused, pointing toward the new guy at our table. And it’s amazing how I could hear her in this loud, noisy room.

    “I don’t know.” I whispered back as we closed in on our table, and took our usual seats.

    “Hey.” Josh said cheerfully.