Misinterpreting Fate (Book 2)

9. First Day of School

Chapter 9: First Day of School

Sam

The first half of the school day dragged on. In each of my classes, we had to go through the typical ice-breaker games, which was pretty pointless considering I grew up going to the same school as the rest of my classmates. Add to that the fact that I could barely write my name without it looking like terrible chicken scratch, I wasn't having a very good morning.

Finally lunch rolled around. I was out of my seat as soon as the bell rang, making my way straight to the cafeteria. The most important part of the first day of school was finding the lunch table you'd be sitting at for the rest of the year. Unfortunately, that was a lot harder than it might seem.

Our cafeteria was one big room with a bunch of circular tables spread out across the space. The tables by the kitchen always had lines of people weaving through them, which didn't make sitting at those tables very comfortable. The tables by the doors got really cold during the winter because there was a draft that came through that the school has yet to fix, even after years of it being an issue. We had one table that we always sought after. It was tucked into the back corner away from the lines, the cold, and the garbage cans. Unfortunately, other people always seemed to have the same idea as us.

I squeezed in between two very large football players, who all liked to crowd around the tables in the middle, trying to catch a glimpse of our table to see if it was empty. No one was sitting at it, but there was a small stack of notebooks sitting in the middle, meaning the table was claimed already.

I was about to give up and find either a different table or my friends when I noticed the notebook on top of the stack was covered in pictures of dogs. I smiled. That was definitely Jaime's notebook.

I breathed a sigh of relief before placing my stuff down next to hers. At least one thing was going right today.

A few minutes later, we were sitting down with our lunches. The only person we were missing out of our group was Courtney, but that wasn't too unusual. She tended to come in late most days.

And, just like usual, she came in yelling. "Oh my god! Guys!" she shouted, slamming her books down on the table. Thankfully she lowered her voice for the next part. "There's a new kid and he's so hot." She pointed at me and Jaime. "You will both agree with me on this. I swear to you. He's gorgeous."

I looked at Jaime, who was already turning red. "He is," she whispered. "I saw him this morning."

I nudged her shoulder. "Go after him then, if you like him."

"Sam," Courtney said. "You can ogle him too. This guy will seriously get your mind off whoever you've been pining over."

"I'm not-"

"Don't give me that, Sam. I know there had to have been a guy. So shut up and turn around. But don't be obvious about it. He's over by the door."

I didn't know if I wanted to look. Sure, I was curious. But I didn't know if I was ready to start looking at other guys. I've only ever had eyes for Owen since I was eleven. I didn't realize it at the time, only figuring out that what I had felt towards him then was actually love, which only grew stronger last year when he finally seemed to notice me. Now though, I was lost. Was another guy really the best way out of this heartache?

I looked anyway. He was easy enough to spot, standing by the hallway doors, scanning the room for an extra seat. I had to agree - he was definitely hot. With his golden locks and chiseled jaw line, I had to force my gaze off his face just to take in the rest of him, which only made me stare even more at his broad shoulders and muscular arms and...

"Alright, Sam," Jaime said. "Stop being creepy."

I felt my face heat up as I turned back to my food. "I wasn't," I muttered, stabbing a piece of pasta with my plastic fork.

"Just admit it, he's hot."

I looked up at Courtney, who still hadn't sat down yet. "Okay, yes. Fine. He's hot, okay?"

Shawn muttered something under his breath and stood up. "I gotta go," he said. "I'll see you guys later."

"Shawn?" Ryan questioned. "Where are you going?"

Shawn shook his head. "I just need to go."

After we watched him leave the cafeteria, Ryan turned to the rest of us. "What's up with him today?"

I knew exactly what it was. "He hates me."

There was a chorus of denial coming from all three of them. I appreciated their efforts, but I knew I was right.

"He does though," I said. "He hates that I'm..." I leaned in to whisper, "gay."

They stared at me, unbelieving. Finally Ryan spoke up. "He doesn't, Sam," he said softly. "Trust me. No one could hate you, especially if they know how great of a person you are."

I nodded. Maybe Shawn didn't hate me, but he definitely didn't like me anymore. "I'm not very hungry," I said, standing up. "I'm just going to head to the art room. I gotta tell Miss Randi about..." I held up my hand. That was definitely not a conversation I was looking forward to having, but it was better than sitting here right now.

Thankfully, no one tried to stop me.

She was alone in the art room, setting up for our class that was going to start in a few minutes. It looked like we were going to be painting canvases. She didn't notice me at first, so I just walked in and placed my books down at my usual table.

"Sam!" she said, noticing me. "How was your summer?"

I gave her a small smile. "It was alright. Kinda broke my hand though..." I held it up, feeling guilty. Not being able to do art for the next two weeks was going to be awful.

"Oh no, sweetie. What happened?"

I shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. I just can't draw or paint anything for the next two weeks...?"

She started thinking, probably about all the projects she had planned for us to do that I wouldn't be able to complete. "We'll figure something out for you, alright? I know you're an amazing artist, with or without a broken hand. So do your best if you can. I won't take credit off if you can't get things as perfect as you normally do."

"Thanks, Miss Randi." This is why she was my favorite teacher.