Who's that girl?

Who's that girl? - Chapter 1

Helloooooo ;D

This is my new story. I uploaded the first chapter a few years ago, but I've recently been inspired by several books, movies and TV shows to continue writing it, so I've re-written parts of the first chapter and changed a few things and republished it. I plan to continue this story, and I hope for some feedback before the next chapter goes up.

Enjoy! ... And excuse the mistakes.

-----------------------------------------

P.S, if anyone wants to make me a super cool cover, please do - Art is not my strong point!

-----------------------------------------

"Just pretend I'm not here, I need to capture you in concentration and possibly winning, so don't look at the camera"

This speech was practically my motto; I said it at least once every 72 hours as I stayed behind at school to take photos of the events and curricular activities, which was my curricular activity. Yearbook.

I had just arrived at the Chesterton High vs. John Hughes High School final chess match before spring break, where the game was due to begin in 5 minutes, and I was polishing up my camera ready for the action that awaited me.

My camera, a sleek Nikon D7000 had done me proud all year, it was a 16.2 megapixel digital camera that allowed me to capture the most important moments of the events at this and other local schools. It was funded by a generous donation from the school, which I expected only happened because it got the school in the local newspaper, and our headmaster Mr Vine was all for publicity. If it made him look good, he did it.

The distribution of the Chesterton High yearbook was the second most eagerly anticipated event next to prom, so to make sure that it met everybody's standards, Mr Vine donated over $700 to the yearbook committee for one of the best cameras on the market, which got him a small article in the local Burns Harbour newspaper, describing him as 'A kind hearted soul with his students interests at heart'. He clipped it out and placed it on a wall in his office.

Just as I had finished attaching the extra focus lens to the camera, I was distracted by a yelp and a small crash from the door that opened up into the room we were currently in: The 12th grade common room. I knew what the noise was instantly; it was the noise that told me my best friend Dan had arrived in his usual clumsy fashion. He couldn't help it, but he always made a dramatic entrance that involved him tripping over or knocking an object down. In this case it was the old guitar leaning up against the wall next to the door that had allowed Dan to stumble into the room; it looked like he had gotten his foot caught in the guitar strap and fallen down, taking the guitar with him that landed on top of him.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked the room as he got up and kicked the guitar under a table.

"Hey!" A boy yelled at him, Nathan I think. It must have been his guitar.

"Two minutes to go, you're unfashionably early. You run here or something?" I asked.

"Two minutes early! A record!" Dan cried, flailing his arms around, resulting in knocking Wendy's bottle of water out of her hand and all down her blouse. "Whoops! Sorry Wendy, my monkey arms just can't help themselves - Shall I get you another drink? Or maybe a paper towel?" he smirked.

Wendy blushed as she realised that the water was making her blouse see-through, and made a swift exit out of the room patting her blouse trying to make the water go away.

"Don't lie Dan, you totally did that on purpose to get a peek at Wendy's C-cups!" I pointed and accused with a fake frown on my face.

He turned to me with a panic-stricken face, shocked that I could accuse him of something so pervy. "I did not! I can't help it if my arms are so long I can reach halfway across the room. I'm six-foot tall, my arms have to match! Don't label me as the school pervert in the yearbook!" He begged, putting on a pleading face and putting his hands together in a begging/praying gesture. As he was attracting a small audience, he decided to up his game and fell to knees, clutching my leg and begging me to forgive him. Such a drama queen.