Scoring a Goal [✔]

1 ♒️ history class

"Sarah! Time for school!" My mother called from downstairs.

Just hearing the sound of her voice at 6:30 in the morning was enough for a huge groan to escape my chapped lips.

I tried to sleep for a few more minutes―that is, until my alarm clock decided it was time to wake up. With a heavy sigh, I ripped the covers from over me and headed for the bathroom.

After rubbing the sand from my eyes, I looked in the mirror. Dull blonde hair stuck to my cheeks with the help of dried drool, my make-up from the previous night was smudged under my eyes, and my body smelled highly of a stench I couldn't stand.

"Ugh, gross."

I hopped into the shower for a quickie, then got dressed in an oversized tee, a pair of ripped jeans, and converse.

"Sarah, come on! You're gonna be late for your first day."

"Coming, mom!" I groaned. With a roll of my eyes, I ran downstairs and got in the car.

The drive to school was filled with a lot of "have fun!"'s and "make friends!" I was happy to get out of the car and into the school without any more embarrassment.

According to my schedule, my first class was honors American History. As soon as I set foot in the class, all eyes stopped what they were doing and darted to me.

"Class, we have a new student― Sarah Hale." Mrs. Miller said with a smile. Her round-framed glasses were perched upon the bridge of her nose and her blonde hair had streaks of grey at her scalp. "Take a seat wherever you'd like."

Thank god she didn't do one of those "introduce yourself to the class" things, cause honestly, I hate whenever people stare at me.

Considering there was only one spot open, I took it. The girl sitting next to me kicked my calf softly to get my attention. "The more comfortable you get here, the more you'll realize that anything Mrs. Miller has to say is completely irrelevant. Doesn't even help you on the tests." Mrs. Miller turned around abruptly to see who was talking, but didn't catch the girl quick enough.

She winked. "I'm Amy," By her tomboy-ish appearance, you would never think she would talk as soft as she does. Her hair was dark brown and draped across her back in a thick braid, almost like rope. Despite how tough she looked, you could tell there was a sweet side to her.

"Sarah," I smiled and stuck a hand out to greet her. Instead, she grabbed my hand to kiss it. "Pleasure to meet you, Sarah." Before, I thought it was a smile that was stuck on her face, but now I see it's between a smile and a smirk. Definitely flirtatious.

I could tell I was blushing because my cheeks burned with the feel of being in the sun too long. Just then, the bell rang to signal the end of class.

"See ya around," Amy said, turning back on her heels to walk away.