Our Wild Hearts

Chapter 1: Bumping Into Hot Guys

Chapter 1: Bumping Into Hot Guys

Wellington High is one big school.

It's been half an hour since the academic coordinator handed me my class schedule, along with the map of the school, and I still haven't managed to find my class. My first class of the day is math. It's held in Room 207 which I can't find. I've still got twenty minutes till class, but with the pace I'm going, I'll never make it there in time.

Sighing, I look up from the map, which is held tightly in my hands, and look around the hallway. Cursing under my breath, I try to figure out the directions; however, the stupid map is of no use as I don't even know which part of the school I'm in. Making a bad impression on the teachers by being late to class on my very first day is the last thing I want.

I should probably ask someone for help. But I figured, that if I can't even do something as simple as reading a map, how am I gonna tackle the difficult tasks life that life has to offer like finding a job, raising a baby, paying taxes etc.

Frustrated, I start walking again, my eyes glued to the map. I'm not exactly paying attention to where I'm going (maybe the reason why I can't find my class), when suddenly I bump into something - or more like someone - making my binder and map flee from my grip and land on the floor.

This person that I just bumped into was so strong that the collision made me lose my balance and the next thing I know I'm falling. But before I land on the floor, a protective hand lands on my waist, pulling me back on my feet and preventing me from landing on my butt.

"Shit, sorry I didn't see you there," he apologized.

Our eyes met for a moment and I instantly looked away, feeling shy. My eyes travelled to his hands which were still on my waist. His eyes followed suit and he suddenly let go.

"I'm so sorry," I apologize as well.

I look at him again and I'm met with the face of a breathtakingly good looking guy, who's running a hand through his hair. My eyes were on stalks as it examined his perfectly sculpted face. A chiseled face with hazel eyes and dark scruffy hair, this guy was the epitome of beauty. He notices me checking him out and the corners of his lips tug up into a smug smile. Feeling my cheeks blush, I lowered my head in embarrassment. He didn't say anything but got down and picked up my binder which was now resting on the floor.

As he got down to pick up my stuff, I realized that I had seen him somewhere before. Not sure where but I've definitely seen him before.

And then suddenly, like a brick, it hit me.

Oh.My.God.

It's the frikkin guitar dude from yesterday.

"Here," he says handing the binder to me.

I quickly grab it and mutter a thank you, not daring to look him in the eyes. An awkward silence had surrounded us. I was waiting for him to leave, but he was still there. Secretly hoping he doesn't recognize me from yesterday, I finally break my gaze from the floor and look at him.

His hands are crossed across his chest and his eyes are studying my face. He was wearing a confused expression as if trying to figure something out. That something is obviously me, and he was trying to remember where he saw me. Shortly after, recognition dawns on his face.