Surviving You

Chapter 5

Nachos and Nicknames

I walk down the crazy animal infested hallways of North East High and try to get to my fourth period class with out having to strangle little kids. Is it just me or do some of these demons walk so slow their grandmothers would tell them to hurry up. I wanted to be nice but that failed because I pushed past the guy and speed walked to class. I was about to be late and I started to get very impatient with the sloth that is now long behind me.

I began to think of what room number it was trying to remember it, but sadly my memory sucks, and now I am forced to pull out my schedule. I got it on Friday, my first day. I was doing pretty good at remembering the teachers names and rooms but I guess I'm not perfect. I pull it out from my binder and stare at it in search for the answers I needed.

1st - Photography, Mrs. Daniels
2nd - Gym, Coach Sanderson
3rd - Chemistry, Mr. Jones
4th - Calculus, Mr. Moore
5th - Lunch
6th - History, Mr. Howard
7th - English, Mrs. Watford

I just got back from Chemistry and it was so awesome. Nathan, Reagan, and I all sat together since we all have that class. But I only wrote a few words for notes because I was laughing so hard from the hilarious jokes that those two were making. At first they were doing the classic note passing in class. But somehow the note got to me instead of Reagan and I read what it said.

'No'

'Yes'

'No. Cupcakes are not better than donuts! Have you never been to Krispy Kreme?'

'Yeah I have but have you ever been to Cacey's? You know that Cupcake shop by my house?'

'Yeah they were pretty good actually'

'See, even you agree'

They were talking about food. Without me! How dare they. And I thought we were friends. After all we went through.

Before that class my day was normal. I found out that the boys have some of my classes. For first period, thankfully, I get forty five minutes without those idiots. Today in Photography we got assigned our camaras for the school year, and Mrs. Daniels said that we could play around with them the whole class period. I took a few pictures of stuff outside the windows,the students, and even myself. What? My face is my best feature. Then for second period, luckily I have Reagan, but the man whore womanizer is with us. Logan.

I walked into fourth period History with Mr. Howard and curse under my breath when I saw the inside of the room. I look around and start thinking about that guy in the hallway. Why? Why evil spirits who make my life an absolute living hell? Why couldn't that guy walk just a tab bit faster so I could get to class earlier. And why, why, why, was the only available seat in the room was next to... yup. You guessed it.

Adrian freaking Thomson.

God kill me now.

Checking the room for the 50th time since I got here, I groan and make my way to the seat. I am already regretting this decision and I haven't even made my way to the middle of the classroom, let alone the back, where the seat is. From where I'm walkingbi can see Adrian on his phone. Maybe he'll be on it the entire time and won't even notice I'm here. And since I'm now kinda friends with his friends maybe we can put Friday behind us and start over. I made a mental note to myself to be friendly. Bit not to friendly that he would think that he could get away with anything with me. No. That will not go down well in his favor. And if that happens, a broken crotch and a trip to the hospital will be in his future.

When I get to the desk and look up to face him, I can see his eyes already on me with amusement.

"Hey, is anyone sitting here?" I ask looking deep into his ocean eyes. Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, I look down towards what he's wearing. Bad idea. He wore a maroon plaid button up shirt that was open for you to see a plain white T-shirt underneath and the same silver dog tags around his neck from the party. He had black jeans on his long legs and black high top Converse on his feet. I felt like I was going to drool. Hot is an under statement for this Greek God who looks like he walked right out of a magazine.