Virtual Attraction [COMPLETE]

11| Stolen Things

Much to my distaste, the next morning was not a holiday, which meant that along with millions of other teens in the country, I had to slug out of bed at 7AM and ride a long trip to school. I shuddered, thinking about being at MDP for the next few hours, remembering my fiasco with Adam at Mason's party. Thankfully, I only had an English period on Wednesdays and Fridays and it was only Monday, so I didn't have to worry about dealing with him until then.

After math class, I had a lunch period. So, I picked a quiet hallway and settled down to do some study for my math quiz on Thursday. I had wanted to go on Fable, and maybe write some more or interact with a few fans. But I knew that if I didn't start studying now, I'd never get the material. Math wasn't my forte. School wasn't my forte, honestly. But, my guidance counsellor would rip out her hair if I told her that. In between bites of cafeteria pizza I did algebra, rearranging x's and y's until I drowned out my surroundings. All that I noticed around me was the sound of the beat and guitar strums in my headphones, and the mesmerizing pattern of x + y = 2z.

Until.

My foot suddenly felt like it had been shattered in two, like a semi-truck had landed on it.

No, not a semi-truck—the culprit was a human.

I looked up and stared in the face of Adam Godfrey. My English partner. The devil. Spawn of Satan. Whatever you want to call it.

He'd stepped on my foot. Probably intentionally. I guess a wave or a "hey" wasn't violent enough, it didn't inflict enough pain to satisfy his psychopathic trigger waves.

I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face.

I was trying to make it through my last few years of high school practically wearing a cloak of invisibility, drawing as little attention as possible.

A group of guys were surrounding him; his friends I presumed. I ignored them, waiting for him to hurl me an insult and make his buddies laugh, so we could both go on with our lives. He'd impress his friends, thereby further solidifying himself on top of the social hierarchy at Manhattan Dalton Prep. And solidifying me well at the bottom.

Nothing new. Though the thought stung. This hadn't been my life before. With my friends I'd almost been popular. Almost. It was mostly them who knew how to talk to people, make people laugh. It was them whom all the cute guys had crushed on. But I had played along too.

"So listen," he said, leaning over the lockers above my head.

I pulled my headphones out of my ears and looked up expectantly, annoyed.

What would he call me? Would he make fun of my stutter, or reiterate my lack of good looks?

I hoped it was at least original this time.

"About the party last Friday," he started, scratching his head.

A few of his friends behind me started laughing heartily down the hall. One of them got up and waved at him.

"What the hell dude, hurry up!" I recognized some of them from English class. Adam's eyes glittered in amusement, wanting to hear whatever joke they'd found so funny. I rolled my eyes, hoping they would just walk away and let him say whatever he had to say.

Instead, he pushed himself off the wall above me and started down the hallway, calling out to TJ or whoever, quickly assimilating into the obnoxious group of testosterone. For a second it looked like he'd considered finishing what he was saying. He didn't though, he just started down toward the hallway, calling out to TJ and joining the roaring group of testosterone.

They were getting louder and louder, even over my headphones, and I couldn't refocus on math. I decided to wait until they'd left— hopefully sooner than later—and study how a group of boys could be so obnoxious and rude, yet well within the tops of the school's hierarchy. One would pat each other over the back, hard enough to choke, or at least cause a temporary heart attack, I thought. Eventually they got up from their seats, the red-headed guy I'd seen earlier leading the group as they sauntered through the noisy wave of students, Adam falling a little behind. Before they passed through the exit doors of the end of the hallway, Adam tossed his head back gently and his eyes surveyed the hallway, landing on me briefly.