Meet Aymie.

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Walking through the school doors,  I pulled my reflective aviators off the top of my raven black hair, and slid then onto my moderately tan skin.

The soft padding of my Jordans echoed through the student filled halls, as I strode through without a care.

Expulsion is what I wanted, expulsion is what I'll get.

I twirled the keys to my bike around my index finger before sliding them into my leather jacket.

Pine Academy.  euugh.

Even the name sounded disoriented in my mind. Glancing to the left I saw the cliques, staring in awe.

First there was the wanna be's and cheerleaders. They looked so orange I swear I had one of my five a day just looking at them.

Opposite were the Jocks, typical heartbreaking, forever horny guys, and some looked like walking steroid appliances.

The Emo's and goths, scene and indie people were dotted everywhere. no comment.

And then I saw the typical boys and girls who didnt give a fuck about school and came in looking like hobos.

I saw the bad boys, leaning agsinst walls trying to look intimidating... but failing. I've seen better, I mentally snorted.

But finally I saw the nerds,- some wearing braces, some wearing glasses  - some wearing both.

Then I saw him.

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face him.

His chiseled jaw and perfectly wild hair flicked across his face, barely touching the thick black rimmed glasses perched on his flawless nose.

"Name?" I said, my voice dripping with confidence, a skill I mastered at the age of 8.

His eyes widened as if he couldn't believe I was talking to him.

He shook his head and cleared his throat, causing a deep rumble to erupt from his 6"4 body sending shivers down my 5"10 body.

"Knight. Nathaniel Knight." he said without a stutter. I nodded. Thats a name I couldn't forget.

I walked off continuing my flow as I had before, only to come to an abrupt halt. "Hey! Whats your name?" he yelled, damn this nerd has confidence.

I swivelled round not removing my glasses at all and winked anyway.

"You'll know eventually." I shouted back.

I walked straight to the main office to get my time table.

The womam was faker than fake eyelashes.

Beach blonde hair, too tight top and overly fake tits. She smiled at me with her cake face and asked for my name.

Peeling my glasses from my face and clipping them onto my shirt, I leaned overthe counter with a smirk etching its way onto my face.

"Aymie.  Aymie Ryder."