Hate/Luke Hemmings Fanfiction

2

"Mrs. Hemmings is a sweetheart, you'll love her. I had her last year, and ... "

Michael continued to talk about my second period teacher as he guided me to her classroom. I zoned out for a second, taking in the unfamiliar faces of my peers passing by me, seeming not to give any cares in the world about me. I expected something of the sorts, being that the school is so large, how could one possibly notice every time someone new came here? But I also expected something similar to the reaction Michael had to my foreign voice, questioning where I was from, but no such thing happened in my first class; not even the teacher seemed to care about me, except to check that it was his classroom I belonged in.

Michael's sudden stop pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Here we are!" he said with enthusiasm. "You're going to have a great time in her class, she makes English fun."

I smiled. "I hope so. Well, thanks for walking me to class. Is yours close by?"

"No, mine is across campus, but I didn't mind the walk." Michael shrugged. "After this period is our ten minute break, meet me at your locker, I'll bring you a surprise."

I raised my eyebrows at the mention of a surprise. "Oh, how exciting." I peeked my head inside the class and saw it was mostly full, most likely meaning class was about to start. "I should get to class now."

He looked around and started walking away. "Yeah, I should too. See you at your locker!"

I turned and walked in the room confused of Michael's intentions; Michael was being so sweet to me, why? Does he have no one better to be around? He was alone when I jabbed him with my arm by my locker, maybe he doesn't have friends?

"Are you Taylor?" 

I blinked, the woman's voice reminded me where I was. I stuttered when I answered, making me sound unsure of myself. "Y-yes that's me."

"Wonderful! I have a seat right here for you," the woman who I assumed to be the beloved Mrs. Hemmings pointed to a seat in the middle of a row of students. "This is an advanced class, so everyone will be kind and welcoming to you, I promise."

I tilted my head in confusion. "Advanced class?"

"Oh, yes. Your exceedingly good academic performance in Australia placed you here. Don't worry, you'll do great." her smile was comforting.

I nodded and made my way to my assigned seat. My exceedingly good academic performance? I suppose I was a good student, but I would never say "exceedingly good". America has seemed to mess up my academic placement, so far putting me in two classes I shouldn't be in.

Mrs. Hemmings sat at her desk, looking at her computer screen. The class continued to chat, creating a bug-like buzzing noise throughout the space in the room. I sat awkwardly in my seat, not knowing what to do.

"Oh, look who's here to see his mommy," I heard a girl in front of me whisper to another girl next to her.

I moved my head to see who they were talking about. A tall boy with blonde hair quickly made his way to Mrs. Hemmings, who from what I heard was his mother.

Mrs. Hemmings looked away from her computer screen. "Luke, what do you need?"

From the way she spoke to the boy, Luke, I could tell she was his mother. He crouched down, face level with her, and had a quiet conversation with her, sparking the occasional nod from Mrs. Hemmings in response. 

"Momma's boy," I heard another girl snicker from behind me.

I wanted to defend him, but I didn't know him, or the girls silently teasing him. I didn't want to give the wrong impression to any of them, so I sat silently in my seat until he left the classroom and Mrs. Hemmings started the class.

I wanted to enjoy the class, and pay attention to what Mrs. Hemmings was teaching, but I couldn't stop thinking about her son. I was interested in him and why so many people had a bad taste in their mouth about him. I realized I could never see him again, as he could be one of the many lost in this school's sea of people. 

"Have you read The Great Gatsby, Taylor?" Mrs. Hemmings voice shook me out of my daydream.

"Um, no." I responded nervously. Was I supposed to have read this book? I didn't even know it was a book, I had  only heard of the movie with the blonde actor from Titanic.

A murmur floated throughout the class; I couldn't tell if it was their reaction to my lack of reading or to my voice.

"I'm sorry class, I forgot to introduce you to our new studen from Australia! This is Taylor, everybody! Welcome her." Mrs. Hemmings introduced. The murmuring continued, along with a few greetings aimed at me.

I smiled and nodded, emabrrased at the unwanted attention.

"Oh, but Taylor, you need to read The Great Gatsby. Not only will you need it for this class, but it is a wonderful book. Right class?" she asked.

Their response was muffled by the ringing of bells, signaling a much desired end of class. As I made my way out of the room, I picked up a few words from voices floating around me that stood out; "Australia" and "ugly shoes", along with a few stares I could feel at the back of my head. Knowing they were conversating about me from the mention of my home country, I hurried away in my "ugly shoes", regreting wearing the stupid outfit in the first place.

Facing the crowds of people without Michael showing me the way was difficult and overwhelming; it didn't help my throat began to tighten from the comments aimed at me. I felt like I couldn't breath and I just wanted to get some fresh air; even though we were outside, sharing oxygen with hundreds of people going different directions was difficult, especially in the state I was in.

 I looked down at what I was wearing, my white tank top that was cut off at my belly button, just to be met with my pink and white plaid skirt, paired with white Mary Jane's with a little heel, something I felt so confident in this morning. As I stared at it more, the uglier it looked to me. 

Distracted by my own appearence, I walked into something hard, and dropped my notebook that was previously wedged between my left arm and torso. When I bent down to pick it back up, I looked at what I had ran into, and realized it wasn't a what but a who.

"Oh, Luke, I'm so sorry, I-I wasn't looking ..." I trailed off as I nervously tried to justify my actions.

He smiled sweetly. I noticed how blue his eyes were, and I wondered if he wore contacts.

"It's cool. Do I know you?" he questioned.

Realizing how creepy I sounded, calling him by his name, and barely seeing him for the first time a few minutes ago, I quickly tried to defend myself. "Oh, no, no you don't but, uh, you came into my English class last period and talked to your, uh, mom."

Ignoring my explanation, he questioned, "Are you British?"