I entered my AP chemistry class, as I have been doing every day since the beginning of school, a month ago. I make my way to the lab table that I was assigned to. Just as I sit down into my chair, my best friend, Shawna, scurries into the room and slides into her seat next to me.
“Rumor has it, there’s a new student,” mischief evident in her eyes. “I hope he’s hot,” she says dreamily, her mouth forming a smirk.
“You don’t even know if the rumor is true.” Before she even has time to argue, a fair haired boy, who I didn’t recognize walked through the door. All eyes were glued on him, even mine, though he paid no attention. He sat in the very back on the right side of the classroom. The late bell shrilled, snapping our attention to Coach O’Donnell, our teacher.
“Okay, listen up,” Coach barked at the class. “We have been having an issue with paying attention in this class and I think it has to do with me letting you chose who you sit by, so I made a seating chart.” Groans were heard from most of my class mates as we made our way to the back of the room.
Coach walked from lab table to lab table telling people where their new seats are to be. There are only four of us left- me, Shawna, a boy named Andrew, and the new kid- so there is still hope of sitting by Shawna.
That hope was shattered into pieces when Coach said, “Shawna Parker and Andrew Milligan at this table.” That leaves me and the new kid as partners.
I walk the two steps it takes to my new table in the very back of the room. As I sink into my chair and hear someone sit in the one next to mine. I look to my left and see my lab partner, the new kid. Now that I am up close he is actually very attractive; high cheek bones, toned muscles, clear complexion. He is wearing a simple, gray shirt dark jeans and a pair of white converse but somehow he makes it look good.
“Hi, I’m Arden O’ Connor,” I say, introducing myself and hoping he does too. He directs his attention from his hands to me. His eyes lock on mine and all that is running through my mind is: his eyes are so blue.
“Niall Horan.” He smiles with one side turned up farther than the other. I fumbled threw my thoughts for something to say, anything, but I couldn’t break away from his eyes. With his smirk growing bigger, I think he realized the affect he has on me.
“Okay, for the rest of class you need to get to know your lab partner. The more you know, the more successful you will be at performing labs together,” Coach O’ Donnell barked, breaking me from my trance. I have no idea where he came up with that logic but it is better than him lecturing us about chemistry or his new football plays.
An awkward silence settles between us but it was Niall who finally broke it, “So, tell me about yourself.”
I think for a moment before I say, “I am seventeen years old. I live with my mom and I have lived here, in Bristol Harbor, Maine for my entire life.” I keep it at that, not wanting to spill my entire life story to a complete stranger.
“What about your dad?” he asks with sympathy in his blue eyes. Part of me wants to change the topic but another part wants to tell Niall everything. I feel different than I had just a moment ago; first, I did not want to tell him anything. If I didn’t know any better I would say that he did something, but people can’t control emotions so he couldn’t have. There is something different about him though.
“No one knows what happened to my father. He disappeared when I was five,” I finally decide to give him an honest answer. It is true; no one knows what happened to him, but most assume that he gone, in a better place, though his body was never found. Niall’s eyes showed more empathy than I have ever seen in anyone before.
“I am so sorry,” was all he said in response; this is what I was used too, though. Whenever anyone finds out about my dad, they pity me and that is why I try to stray clear of the subject.
“It’s fine.” Desperately, I scan my brain for something to change the subject. Then I remembered the stupid get-to-know-your-partner assignment.
“Enough about me; tell me about you.” He ponders what to say for a moment before turning his body to face me.
“I am eighteen. I ” Niall was interrupted by the dismissal bell, signaling that it is the end of class-and the end of the day. I grab my bag from the floor and fling it over my shoulder. I turn to hear the rest of what Niall had to say but he wasn’t there anymore. I turn to the front of the room, just in time to see him walking through the door.
“You are so lucky that you get to sit next to that new kid,” says Shawna with dreamy eyes. We are now at my house, sitting on my queen sized bed. I was trying to do homework but Shawna is fond of gossiping so I can’t seem to get much done.
“His name is Niall. And I’m that lucky; he’s just a guy,” I retort.
Shawna’s mouth forms a smirk, “Yeah, a hot guy. I need to teach you how to flirt.” Shawna is very flirty, not a slut just flirty. But she can be because she is a voluptuous redhead, where as I have the curves of a toothpick and wavy, chestnut hair.
“Yeah, whatever,” I wave my hand dismissively. I start my Latin homework, which was interrupted earlier, only to be interrupted again.
“When does your mom get back?” Shawna asks. For my mom’s job, she must travel a lot; but she gets paid well, so I guess it’s okay. She is a doctor, apparently a very good one. She travels to different places along the East Coast, training new doctors.
“She is supposed to get back on Saturday,” I answered solemnly. My mom is gone most days out of the week so I am alone in our house a lot.
“Well, at least you only three more days till then. I am going to head home; it’s getting late.” Shawna packs up the homework that she never started because she was too busy gossiping about our whole school.
I walk with her down the old wooden stairs of my home. We say our ‘good byes’ and I am left alone again. I trudge back up the stairs to ready myself for bed.
In the bathroom, I cleanse my face with soap and brush my teeth. Then I braid my brown, messy waves down my back.
Once in my bedroom, I change into an oversized, cotton shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. Then, I climbed carefully into my bed with blankets strewn everywhere on the mattress.
Before falling completely asleep, I get a strange feeling, as though someone or something were watching me. I don’t feel threatened, though. My mind floods with thoughts that it could be my dad watching over me from a better place. For the first time since he went missing, I feel safe.
