We Never Change || Michael Clifford

Prologue

Prologue

I walk down the hallway quickly, maneuvering my way through the crowded wave of students heading to lunch. I push my way through some people, running ahead. I look for a large crowd of people and merge into it. I stand at the back, trying to look involved. It works every day.

I look at the disgusting school lunch choices and decide on spaghetti. I get in line and wait patiently at the never ending line of students in front of me. I look around the cafeteria, trying to look busy. I finally reach the front of the line and get my food. I pay for the meal and walk towards my table. Someone laughs behind me and I look over my shoulder, feeling paranoid. Is there something on my jeans? The two girls giggle as they read something on one's phone. I let out a sigh of relief and turn around.

I crash into someone, sending food flying everywhere. The tray falls on top of me as I fall to the ground. The whole cafeteria turns to face me and I hear snickers floating through the lunchroom, until the whole cafeteria is laughing at me.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." The person who knocked me over, apologizes. He offers his hand, but I ignore it and stand up on my own. My shirt is covered in spaghetti sauce.

I look up and take in his appearance. I don't think I've ever seen him before. He's got black and red hair, spiked up in every direction. His green eyes look into mine, guiltily.

"It's okay." I tell him. I should be pissed off, but he looks so genuinely upset I just can't be.

"No it's not. I ruined your shirt. I'll buy you a new one, dammit, I'm so fucking clumsy."

I give him a small smile. "Really, it's fine."

"Um, I have a spare shirt in my locker if you want to borrow it. I mean, I doubt you want to walk around school covered in spaghetti sauce for the rest of the day."

I bite my lip, but hesitantly nod. "Yeah, sure."

"I'm Michael, by the way." He says, leading me out of the cafeteria, towards his locker. "I'd like to think my first impressions are usually better than this, but they're probably not."

"So, do you spill spaghetti on everyone you meet?" I ask, smiling.

"You're the first." He tells me.

"I'm glad your first time could be with me." I tell him.

He laughs and stops in front of a locker. He puts in his combination and the door almost hits me in the face. I take a step back and his eyes widen. "Fuck, sorry."

"It's okay." I tell him. "I've come to terms with the fact that you're incredibly clumsy."

He scratches the back of his neck nervously, smiling. "Sorry." He turns and pulls a shirt out of his locker. "Here you go. It's clean. I just keep it in here for emergencies. Like today."

I take it out of his hands, gratefully. "I haven't seen you around here before, Michael. Are you new?" I ask.

"No. I've gone here since I was a freshman."

"Oh." I tell him. "Um, I'm sorry-"

"No, it's okay. I'm not someone a lot of people usually remember."

"Well, there's no way I'm going to be forgetting you after this." I tell him, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "Um, I'm gonna go change. Thank you for the shirt, Michael. I'll see you around?"

"I doubt it." He says. "If you didn't see me before, you won't see me again."

"But you'll want your shirt back, right?" I ask.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Then I guess I will be seeing you soon." I turn to walk away.

"Wait!" He calls out. "I never got your name."

"Adelia." I tell him, smiling. "My name's Adelia."

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