The Project

Chapter 1

Kate's Point of View

Another lined piece of paper was tossed from behind me and landed on my desk. I snuck it under the table and unfolded it, revealing the messily written message inside.

"So can I copy your notes?"

I turn around in my seat, meeting eyes with the grinning boy behind me. With a playful roll of my eyes, I turn back around.

"After class."

I send the note to Benny sitting behind me.

Before he can write back, the classroom door opens, interrupting Mrs. Peters, the teacher,  from her lesson.

Principal Winston walks in, a dark brunette following on her heels, trying not to make eye contact with any students, who were all watching him.

Mrs. Peters and Principal Winston whisper between each other for a moment before turning to us.

"Class, we have a new student!" Mrs. Peters announces, forcing a smile onto her clearly exhausted face. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

He looked like his name could be sweetheart with those innocent puppy dog eyes.

The puppy looking boy mumbles something, not loud enough for the first row to hear, let alone me in the 3rd row.

"Johnny Cade!" Mrs. Peters repeats, patting him on the shoulder. He looks completely and utterly terrified and uncomfortable. "Ah, lucky you, there's an empty seat right next to Kate. Kate, raise your hand."

Benny stifles laughter behind me, and I awkwardly raise my hand mid-way up in the air.

Me and "Johnny" make eye contact for a split second, before he tears the gaze away and looks back down at his feet.

Johnny starts walking my way, all the students checking him out as he passed their seat. It was obvious all the girls were staring at his slight build through his blue jeans and tight black t-shirt. Some boys were even staring.

He doesn't look at me or anyone when he sits down in the empty desk beside mine. He sits there as if he'd been there the entire time.

A crumpled paper ball hits me in the back of my head. I turn around, and Benny points to the floor, where the note had landed.

I huff, about to lean down to pick up the note when there's a tap on my shoulder. I turn the other way, and Johnny is holding out the crumpled ball of paper.

My eyebrows raise, cautiously taking the paper from him.

"Thanks," I mumble. All he does is nod and turn back to the front of the room where Mrs. Peters was teaching.

I face my desk again and unfold the note.

"He looks 12."

Rolling my eyes, I write my response.

"You look 11."

And hand the paper back to Benny.

-

"Do I really look 11?"