Another Perfect Sky I Damaged

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

(Ashley's POV)

I woke up suddenly, startled by the ringing of my alarm, snapping my head back into reality, and the metal bed frame. After rubbing the soon-to-be bump on my head, I raised my hand, searching for the snooze button on the damn alarm clock. After managing to hit it, I looked around and realized where I was. I was lying on the floor, in nothing but my underwear. The hardwood was cold against my back, which I discovered was sticking to it when I attempted to sit up. I slowly got to my feet and sleepily looked around my room. My bed was a mess, there were clothes everywhere, I took note that many weren't mine, and it the air smelled weird. What the hell happened last night? I blew the question off, I didn't have time to wonder, I had to get ready to go. It was my first day teaching at this little shitty school, and I was already running late.

I grabbed a pair of "clean pants" from a pile in my room and put them on. I was teaching a bunch of seniors, and I had no intention of impressing any of them. I threw on a plain black shirt, and left my room, heading downstairs. I made toast, and ate one slice before putting the other in my mouth, and heading out the door. I got in my car, throwing all I brought for work in the passenger seat, and followed the path I had taken previously to the school, for my interview. When I arrived, I looked up and down the building, wondering why I took this job. The school looked run down, and graffiti was covering the walls. I considered getting back in my car, and driving away, telling the school I quit, even though I hadn't started yet, but that wasn't an option. I needed money and if there was any other school looking to hire, I wouldn't be here. With one last look at the school, I gathered my things from the passenger seat, and headed into the building.

(Andy's POV)

I walked into my new homeroom, and instantly knew I would drop out before this year was over. It seemed that the school officials had watched me for the past few years, and put everyone they had seen bully me into the same class with me. I walked to the back of the room, with the hood of my black sweatshirt pulled over my head, praying no one would notice me. That was a little too much to ask for, seeings how I was around 6'2", really skinny, and the only one wearing all black. I also wore eye-liner, and paint on my face. I called it "war paint" and it meant something to me, but it was just another thing for the assholes I was forced to know to bully me for.

My prayers weren't answered, however, because as soon as I sat down in the back of the room, something was thrown at my head. Hard. I raised my head slightly, and looked through my long black hair, to try to see who threw it. I knew immediately who it was. I lowered my head again, and didn't respond, knowing it would have just added fuel to the fire. I tried to remain still as more things were were thrown at my head, with harder force each time. Right as I was about to snap, I heard the teacher walk in. I looked up, relieved, and my breath became caught in my throat.

He was....perfect. Tall, muscular, and handsome, with long black hair. My "fantasy" of the man became stilled however, because I became aware of myself. I was this sickly skinny, pale kid, who was 17 years old, and failed almost every class he took. I was a hideous, poor excuse for a human, and was reminded of it everyday. I looked down at my hands. No one like that would ever like me, hell, I doubted anyone would ever like me. One look was usually all it took to drive people away.

(Ashley's POV)

I looked out towards the class, and saw 32 pairs of dead eyes staring back at me. All the students looked the same, and dressed the same, until I noticed one particular student in the back corner. He was tall and thin, with long black hair, cascading down his face. He was wearing all black, tight clothes, with a black hoodie on, and he was staring out the window, with eyes full of life. I didn't know if he was new to the school, but hoodies weren't allowed in the class rooms. Even I knew this. I called for his attention, but he didn't answer. I tried once again, but before he could respond, one of his classmates turned around and said, "Hey faggot, the teacher's talking to you." I ignored the comment and looked back over to the boy. He then looked up, and stared at me with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes I had ever seen. They were big and innocent. He wore black eye-liner, which just brought them out more. I made no remark, because I wore eye-liner too, and I personally liked it. His skin was pale and flawless, and it just complimented his eyes more. It took me a moment to remember why I called his attention in the first place. I straightened up, and looked him dead in the eyes.