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"Whitley, up an at 'em." Collin shook me awake. "Get dressed. You have school." On his way out of my room, he stops. "And wear something that will cover up the tattoo." I glance down at the tattoo on my wrist. It is the numbers 07. The tattoo I unwillingly got when I was kidnapped. I brush my hair, then proceeding to put half of it up and keep half of it down. I push my bangs into place and get dressed. Because it's my first day at my new school, I want to look nice. After a minute if scrounging through my closet, I find a white polo, a black skater skirt, and my pink bomber jacket which would cover up my tattoo. I slip my black vans on and make my way to the kitchen to eat breakfast. "You excited for school?" Collin asks, handing me a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. My little brother, Charlie, sat at the table scarfing down his breakfast. "Woah, slow down, Charlie." Collin says. "But I'm hungry, Collin," Charlie whines. I quickly eat as well, my nerves getting the best of me. I've never gone to a public school before. Let alone any school. I've never had a normal life. But today I finally will. "You ready?" Collin asks when Charlie and I finish. We both nod in unison. Next thing I know, I'm stepping out of Collin's car and to the high school. "Make some friends for me, ok?" Collin flashes a hopeful smile. "But no boys. You know how I–" "Yes, Collin. I know how you feel about boys." I roll my eyes, and quickly closing the car door behind me to avoid anymore lecturing. Charlie is in middle school, which is right next to the high school, so we got dropped off in the same area. After departing from Charlie, I walk to the sidewalk with my schedule in hand. School hasn't started yet, but it does in 10 minutes. I wait outside of the school, watching people get out of their cars and walk to the school building. It's October, meaning the school year had already started 2 months ago, so it won't be hard for people to distinguish that I'm new here. The loud engine revving of a car roar snaps me out of my thoughts. A sleek blue Camaro pulls into the parking lot. A redhead girl hops out of the car and then hops on her skateboard, skating towards the middle school. Then, a guy slowly steps out of the car, taking his sunglasses off to look around. Why does he need sunglasses when it's early in the morning? I automatically assume that he's the cliche popular bad boy at this school. "Who's that hottie?" I hear a girl near me giggle. Or maybe he's also new, and this is just one huge coincidence. He struts his way over to the entrance I was waiting by, with girls from every corner of the parking lot checking him out. The bell rings, so I trudge to my first class. My first period is English. When I walk in, the second bell rings, signaling that class had began. Students had all taken their seats, except for me. "Students, we have—" the teacher started before the door to the class swung open, and the guy from earlier struts into the classroom. "—As I was saying, we have two new students, Billy Hargrove and Whitley Wilson." The teacher gives us warm smiles. I give the guy Billy an awkward glance. He looks back at me with an annoyed and angry expression. Okay. So he apparently isn't enjoying this either. "You two can take the two empty seats next to each other in the back." Mentally groaning, I trudge my way over to the seat next to the window, Billy sitting in the aisle seat next to me. All of the girls stare at Billy during the entire lecture. I was staring out the window most of the class time, just thinking about what I could eat when I got home. "Its nice to see someone's not staring at me," Billy mutters to me. I'll admit, he's gorgeous, but I know what kind of guy he is. A player douchebag. The hair is the biggest giveaway. "Would you like me to?" I retort. He smirks in response.
Lunchtime rolls around, and I find myself sitting at a table alone and drawing in my sketchbook. I nibble on the semi-terrible school's french fries that came with my school meal. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see someone standing on the other side of the table, like they're deciding wether to sit here or not. I glance up to see a brunette boy holding his lunch tray in his hands. He notices that I've acknowledged his presence, and he flashes a shy smile. "Hi. I'm Jonathan. Do you mind if I sit?" "Of course! And I'm Whitley.." I return a small smile. He sets down his lunch tray and sits in front of me. "I usually sit alone, but I saw you, and you're new, so I decided I should make a friend." "Well thanks for not leaving me alone," I chuckle. "And I actually found out that I'm not the only new kid today. That's weird, right? For a small town like this?" "Yeah. That's coincidental, I guess." He says. "Um, just so you know, everyone here thinks I'm a creep. Just a warning." I raise an eyebrow. "Why do they think you're a creep?" He shrugs. "Because I have no friends." "Well, if that's the case, then they can't call you a creep anymore, because I'm your friend." I grin. He laughs. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
It turns out Jonathan and I have PE together the same period. However, there's no physical activity for us in this class because that's reserved for the popular boys. We sit in the bleachers the whole period while Billy and a few guys play a match of basketball against a boy named Steve Harrington and his friends. Everyone on that court is too sweaty. Billy has his shirt off, revealing his abs which of course he has. All of the girls in the class were drooling over them. "Isn't Billy Hargrove so cliche?" Jonathan asks me out of the blue as we watched the game. They seem to take the game so seriously. "Yeah, but isn't Steve?" I gave him a humored look. "Like, look at the hair on the two of them. It's like they were pulled directly out of a Seventeen magazine." He laughs. "Most definitely." "What's that about me being a cliche?" The booming voice of Billy Hargrove barks. We both turn around to see Billy giving us an evil smirk as he stood in front of us. "You basically just answered your own question," I reply with a nonchalant voice. "You were basically designed to have the mullet of a Seventeen magazine catalog model when you came right out of the womb." "That doesn't sound too bad, Princess." His smirk is still prominent on his face. "Of course it doesn't." I mutter under my breath. "What was that?" He cocks his head. "Nothing." I quickly reply. "Yeah, it better be nothing. Whatever, freaks." Jonathan and I were both taken back at what he said. Billy stalks away from us, returning to the game, his signature smirk still playing on his lips.
