"For homework, I would like you to partner up and brainstorm three problems with society. Whether it's bullying, the poor, pollution, anything. You only need three." Mrs. Karnick says, writing the homework on the board. She turns to face us and leans against her desk.
"After you do your brainstorming, pick one. Don't do anymore than that." she continues, putting papers away. "Alright everyone, partner up, no more than two in a group."
I groan, putting my head in my hands. I have no friends in this class and we happen to have an odd number, too. Everyone around me shoots up, chairs screeching against the floor and a chatter begins. I raise my head and look around the room to see everyone already taken. That was fast.
I sigh, standing up and take my bag, looking at the clock. Seven minutes left until it's time to go home. I may be a straight A student, but I still hate school as much as the next person. I walk over to Mrs. Karnicks desk and clear my throat.
"Uh, Mrs. Karnick, I don't have a partner. I don't mind if I do this myself though, it's no problem." I say, fixing my bag on my shoulder. She looks up at me, fixing her reading glasses. She is your perfect description of a language arts teacher. Glasses, bun, fancy work suits, and strict.
"Oh Josie, I'm sure we can get you a partner. Actually," she says smiling, "we were suppose to be getting a new student today, but he hasn't shown up for class. He can be your partner."
I manage a weak smile back and thank her. I walk back to my seat and sit down, fixing my skirt. Four minutes until schools over. Then I can get out of this wretched uniform. We all have to wear collared shirts with ties. Only the boys wear slacks and girls wear skirts with knee-high socks. I pull out my book and start to read to pass the time, but my mind is distracted. I hate working with partners, I always end up doing all the work. I wonder who the new student may be. I really hope he's not rude or obnoxious.
"Hey Jo," Speaking of obnoxious, a chair is pulled up next to me and I turn to see who it is. Niall Horan smiles widely back at me. I put my attention back to my book, pretending to act like he distracted me. He didn't really, I hate to read.
"Hey Niall," I respond, sighing. Nialls been trying to get me to date him since the beginning of high school. He flirts a lot with me, but I turn him down each time. I admit, I respect his determination, but it's never going to happen. I still don't understand though why he tries with me. He's Niall Horan, best foot-baller in our school, charming, funny, and can pick up any girl he desires. I mean, I know why, but that's an event that I'd rather not think of.
"Do you have a partner?" he asks leaning against my desk. "If you don't, I don't mind switching."
I set my book down and glance at the clock. One minute. I face him and give him the most innocent smile I can manage.
"Sorry Niall, I have a partner already. And like I've said before. I'm not interested." I put my book away and stand up.
"Well, then what are you interested in?" he questions, standing up as well. Everyone else walks over to the door, waiting for the bell to dismiss us.
I walk to the door as the bell rings. I turn around, walking backwards now. Niall's still at my desk, collecting his jacket and bag. He looks at me, raising his eyebrow as if to say 'well?'
"I'm interested in boys with their natural hair color," I shout back over everyone around me. He chuckles at my response, along with the few others who heard.
"Hilarious Kale! Hilarious!" He shouts, as I turn back around and out the door. Niall and I always argue, jokingly with each other. Just because I won't date him doesn't mean I can't tease him for bleaching his hair.
"I try!" I yell over my shoulder, through the door way.
I walk down the hall, adjusting my bag on my shoulder. I get to my locker and open it up. I put in some text books and close it, making sure to have my car keys.
"Excuse me?" I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn around. A rather tall boy with brown curly hair smiles down at me. "Uh hi, um are you Josie Kale?"
I nod looking at him, curiously. I've never seen him around here, so I figure he's the new student Mrs. Karnick was talking about. He has bright green eyes and tattoos on his chest and forearm. Usually you can't show them, but since the last bell has rung ending the day, the first few buttons are undone far enough to see his chest tattoos. Not that I'm complaining.
"Well I'm Harry, I'm the new student. Mrs. Karit told me we're partners? I was having a tour of the school last period. They were busy or something this morning." He explains, extending his hand. I take it and his grip is firm, but gentle, around my hand. I like Harry, he's quite the gentlemen. Not many guys at our school will shake hands with another student.
"Well nice to meet you Harry and it's Mrs. Karnick. She hates it when people pronounce it wrong, lesson one to survive here at Wilmslow High School. Pronounce all the teachers names right, trust me, learned that the hard way." I say laughing. All the teachers scolded me about messing their names up countless times.
Walking alongside Harry, he towers over me by at least a foot and a half. That's what I get for being only 5'3".
Harry smiles, looking down at the ground. "Thanks I'll make sure to-" He starts his sentence, but doesn't get to finish it.
The schools jocks come down the hall, heading toward us chanting "Wilmslow High! Wilmslow High!" The cheerleaders are with them cheering and laughing. Students standing around, wandering the halls, high five them and wish them good luck. Harry and I stand in the middle of the hall, causing us to be put in the center of all the commotion. People pat my back along with Harry as they pass. One of the jocks pinch my bum and I turn around in shock. Niall and his friend laugh as they pass me, his friend winking at me.
I groan and flip his friend off, causing them to laugh even harder as they walk away.
"There's a football match tonight, everyone is hyped about it." I explain, turning to Harry. "Our school tends to go all out for sports. If you don't play or support one of the sports here, everyone tends to get pissy on you."
"So I've noticed," he chuckles, gesturing to the few people with face paint. As we walk, five guys rush past us, carrying the school mascot. "But is it always this chaotic?"
I walk a few feet in front of Harry, walking backwards. I laugh, opening my arms up in a 'welcome' gesture.
"Hey, welcome to Wilmslow High."
