Fourth row, sixth seat. Desk 30.
My sweatshirt sleeves are covering my fists as Mrs. Buckley babbles on about the medieval Romans. My arms stretch out the length of the desk, my sleeves still covering my hands. I let out a sigh and sink into my seat.
I can feel my blonde hair sway as I tilt my head over at Katrina and Brian, who are exchanging triangular notes with each other, letting out giggles every once in a while. I roll my eyes in the opposite direction, hiding from my ex best friend and ex boyfriend.
I stare out the window that sits above my teachers desk. Beautiful. The world outside stands lifeless, as if holding it's breath. A thin sheet of snow sits on the hill where I would sit with my notebook and draw. The world was so beautiful in spring, but the way it stood motionless in winter gave me hope that it would come alive.
The room goes silent. I'm still staring out the window as the voices, tapping, ripping, and sneezing stop. I turn my head quickly, noticing where everyone's attention has gone. A boy stands motionless in the doorway. A tight frown tugs at his lightly tanned cheeks. He's clutching a book; To Kill A Mockingbird. His chestnut hair combed to the side, longer than any other guys haircut in the class. I like him already.
Mrs. Buckley clears her throat. "Thank you Mr. uh" She takes out a paper wedged in her shirt pocket. "Uhh Peterson. Emery Peterson."
