Break.

Chapter 1.

     Do you ever get that feeling like how you know when something is really wrong. I get it all the time, and I can usually just ignore it. Right now I can't though. The feeling grows every step I walk towards the building that will most likely cause my death. High school.

   My old high school was pretty small, just like the town I lived at. Then when my dad got the job as a director at LA we packed up and moved right away. Living at a apartment building isn't that bad. The space is nice and my room has a tall window over looking the beach. I've liked the place so far.

   Most of my opinion is changed though when I drive to the West Anneston High School. The school is huge and I have that feeling. I know I'll never fit here. I walk to the front doors after locking my Mercedes and walk down a hallway. There are kids walking everywhere, crowding around talking, closing lockers, and yelling across the hall to others. I look around, trying to find the main office. It's about three months to the school year so it should get really crowded there. Soon I see a oak door and a plaque on the wall next to it that reads, main office. I move the door away and walk over to an elderly woman who's sitting at a desk.

      She looks at me and than smiles, "what can I do for you Ma'am?" She asks me politely. I can't help smile at the old woman. She has that friendly aura, like a grandmother.

     "I'm actually new." I tell her she nods and looks down at a paper that's on the desk, she takes a pen and marks something.

     Smiling again she asks me a few questions.

    "Name?"

    "Blake Wright."

     "Age?"

      "15."

      "Birthday?"

       "May 5th 2001."

         Once she's  done questioning me she asks me to sit down on one of the chairs next to the desk and than runs off to a little room. I look around the office and sit down at one of the black chairs. A few moments after waiting a tall guy goes to the room and places a slip on the desk where the lady was sitting. He looks over at me and checks me up and down. I can't help except scowl at the fact that he's checking me out.

          For some reason though I try to remember what I looked like this morning when I stared at the mirror. I had on some white shorts and a blue top. I had on matching blue wedges with a bows on top and my blind hair was tied up to a high ponytail. My makeup was lightly dusted on since my dad has a fit if he sees me wearing a lot.

            The boy turns around and waits for the woman. When she walks out she stops when she sees the boy and looks at him with a frown. She walks back to the desk and sets the paper back down. "Another detention Brenton?" She asks.

            "What can I say? My teachers absolutely hate me?" He says, a slight smile. The woman shakes her head even though she is smiling to.

             "What did you do this time Mr. Jameson." The woman asks.

              "Well I may have called the teacher some unnecessary names Mrs. Brads. I really only did it to go see you though. I seem to really enjoy the time I spend with you." He tells her kindly. Although I don't like the boy already, the way he made Mrs. Brad blush was so sweet.

              "Oh Brenton, always such a charmer." She says, and than finally glances over at me. "Oh my! Mrs. Wright I'm so very sorry I forgot you were here." She takes the paper that she had set down and than walks it over to me.

              "It's fine really." I tell her. She smiles at me and than turns to Brenton. "Mr. Jameson. Would you mind showing this lovely girl the way to her first class." Mrs. Brads asks Brenton. He looks over at me once again and than back at Mrs. Brads, smiling.

              "Of course not." He tell her. He leaves the slip and walks over to us. I honestly didn't expect the people here to act so kind and polite. Than again that was a teacher and only one student so I guess it shouldn't really only rest on their shoulders how I think the people of Los Angeles act.

      A minute later me and Brenton are walking down the hallway and he's talking me to my class. "So where are you from?" He asks. I look over at him and admire his features for a moment. He has brown hair that falls almost to his eyes. He eyes are hazel and his skin is clear except for two dimples. He's pretty tan, except he doesn't look like one of those body builders. Honestly I'm kind of glad. I kind of get creeped out from really muscular guys. He looks at me and I look away so he doesn't catch me staring.

     "Minnesota." I tell him. He nods his head, thinking quietly about my response.

     "Why did you move?" He asks. I think back to the day when my dad told us the news. We were all just sitting at dinner when suddenly he tapped his glass with a spoon. "I have an announcement everyone." He had said. Than he told us about the woman who had called him and told him that they'd looked at his work and they wanted to hire him. "My dad got a job as a director here." I tell Brenton.

     "Oh." He says.

       "So have you lived here your whole life." I ask him. He nods his head.

       "Yeah sometimes I wish that I'd get to see somewhere else other than California." He tells me.

       I stare at him. "Why? There's everything here. All the celebrities are here and everything is so amazing." I say, thinking about the website I looked on and read about LA. He looks over at me and smirks.

       "I guess. You just get tired of it though. It's not all that great." He says, lost at thought. I was going to ask him what he meant except we stopped at a door and I could see desks with students from the window.

      "Oh that was quite a walk." I tell him. He smiles and looks at the floor, than over at me.

       "Not usually. I took you a different way than your supposed to go." He says and than turns and walks away. I think about that for a minute and than just walk to the door, going to my first class.