The Line

Chapter One: Look Out

Chapter One

Present:

“The only reason I’m coming to you is because you’re the only one I can trust.”

If there was a world record for staring, which there probably was, Dylan and I would have won the title. After the sentence was spoken, nobody moved-I don’t even think I was breathing.

This was it. We broken the number one rule in us being friends: trusting one another.

It had taken two-hundred and seventeen days for this to happen.

***

221 DAYS AGO

If I could pick one moment in my life to skip over, it would be the first day of school. To which, that’s thirteen moments to this day-so technically it’s not only one moment but that’s beside the point.

The point is, put aside the boring first day lectures about: school supplies, classroom rules, tardies, ecetera, and the annual passing out papers to get signed-the first day of school is a make it or break it situation. 

You’ve got new classes, and therefore new people to make your impression on.

Labels are a given, leave it or take it. Even if you don’t admit it out loud, everyone labels a person on first look. But whether or not you are willing to get to know a person no matter how you think they are is up to you.

Most people stick with the basics: You read in class- You’re a nerd. You don’t start a conversation with the person next to you- You’re antisocial. You ignore everyone around you- You’re stuck up. You sit alone at lunch- You’re a loner. You do your homework- Teacher’s pet. Don’t have a boyfriend- Prude. Get into fights a lot- Badass. Don’t listen to the teacher- Slacker. So on, so on. I could literally label every person on first glance if I chose to-and sure, I might figure up what a certain person is like by paying attention to them for, like, five minutes, but I’m not one to judge without knowing you personally.

With that said, there’s not too many people who do that said thing-get to know you before labeling you either worthy of their time or somewhere near where the sewage flows.

If I was on the outside looking in, I would label myself somewhere in between antisocial and stuck up. That’s according to the apparent universal laws of labeling a high school kid.

I have my close knitted group of friends, so I’m not a loner. Occasionally I forget to do my homework and I’m not exactly on the straight-A honor roll, so I’m not a teacher’s pet. But most of the time I’m in my own little world in class so unless you talk to me, I wouldn’t take it upon yourself to expect a damn peep out of me. Unless it’s along the lines of, “Do you have a pen/pencil?” or “If you tap your fingers against your desk one more time, your going to have to learn how to eat without your hands.”

So, now I’m strolling casually down a hallway at Henderson High School, debating on ditching my last first day of high school. But right before my mental debate ended, a familiar voice calling out my name brought me back to my surroundings and I came to terms with the fact that I was sticking around for the next seven hours.

“Hey, Skylar,” I greeted my grinning brunette friend with a shoulder bump, then leaned on the locker next to hers. My eyes scanned the hallway and I met a familiar set of friendly blue eyes coming in our direction. A smile stretched across my face. “Drew!”

“Clare!” Andrew belted out in an exaggerated excited tone but his grin took off the intended offense. “What’s up, lady people?”

“Nothing much.” - “Not shit.”