Maybe

Prologue & Chapter 1: Average

Author's note:

This is my first book on Wattpad. Please tell me what you think! I'd be happy to answer any questions about Pierce, Jordan, Bayla, or whatever, just ask.

Enjoy!

Prologue:

CHAPTER ONE: AVERAGE

I have my earbuds in, volume up all the way, and dismal lyrics and screaming guitar pulse through my head. I sigh. I can't hear it, but I'm sure Michaela can. She sits next to me on the bus, and early on in the year, we used to talk, but I kinda faded out, avoiding eye contact.

She sat next to me, her blonde ponytail bouncing beside me.

She wasn't "cool" by school standards, but she was nice, and after a day in my life, you need someone nice- even if all she does is laugh at my jokes and repeat them. She's been an old friend since 5th grade, and I have a thing for not being able to let go.

The bus lurches, and I grasp at my iPod, trying to turn up my music, instinctively, only to find it can't go up anymore.

I hear a laugh, and suddenly all I want to do is hear it again. "Jordan!" the bus driver scolds. I turn, immediately, and catch a glimpse of dyed-black hair at the back of the bus, and eyes that meet mine for a millisecond.

Michaela flashes me a look with tight eyebrows and a sympathetic smile that said "what can you do about it?" and I grinned at her before turning back. I felt my lips part into a smile. He diddnt know who I was, but I knew him.

I zoned out for a while, then snapped back when someone said "bye!" and the bus stopped.

A girl wearing her blonde hair back, Uggs, and holding an iPhone stood up. Ugh, its Ally. While the chorus of "bye"s finished up, she waved goodbye, like she was some queen or something, and stepped off. I smiled back at her, silently telling her to go to Hell.

That was why I didn't have friends.

I'd heard from many different sources that 7th grade was the year all girls turn on each other, and I could totally second that. Though, I'd found that every grade on from it was full of impressively bitchy girls, too.

I honed in on the lyrics to the song I was listening to. "..And now she's ripping wings off of butterflies keep your feet on the ground when your heads in the clouds.." Seems about right. God, I loved Paramore.

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, Michaela was tapping my shoulder and saying bye as she got off. I smiled and waved.

I looked back, hoping for another look at Jordan. He was a year older than me, and I only knew him from the bus, and seeing him in the halls. I'd had a thing for him since I first saw him, earlier that year.

I never knew I had a type, but if I did, Jordan was obviously it. He towered over me when he gets off, his dyed black hair over his dark eyes. He wasn't hot, by most standards, but there was something about him.. I've never looked at him for too long, for fear of diminishing our nonexistent friendship, but I thought he had black eyes. Well, not BLACK, but really, really dark brown. He always wore black skinny jeans, black-and-white band tees, and the same black converse. His skin was pale, but not ghostly.

I heard him talking with his friend, behind me as we got off. I know what you're thinking, but that's not it. You wish. We just get off at the same stop.

Now, you're wondering how close we are, and what my name is, so you can make a ship name. No. I've never said a word to him. Jordan hasn't ever really talked to me, aside from once asking me about the book our school was reading so he could prove his friend, Jason, wrong.