Oceanspray

Chapter One

A/N: Adrian's model, just image glasses on him.

Chapter One

Adrian

I stared unseeingly at the monochromatic white board at the front of the room. Dates, wars, and miscellaneous facts covered the wall, making it difficult to discern what was important and what wasn't. The old lady that called herself my teacher was crying about how stupid humanity was with its "stupid wars" and "unneeded bloodshed." She was at least eighty, and how she still had the brain capacity to even commute to school was beyond me.

I tried my best to pick out crucial information from the chaos on the board and copied it into my notes, making a reminder to make myself an outline from the textbook when I got home. I scribbled the note in the margin of my page and highlighted it, just to make sure I remembered.

The bell eventually rang, and the whole class let out a collective sigh of relief. Very few of us truly enjoyed history, but adding Mrs. Gilbert to the equation made course unbearable. Her squawking could only be tolerated for so long—even by the most dedicated students.

Following my classmates' lead, I packed up my bag and exited from the stuffy room. I headed towards my locker and inputted my combination. Pulling out my lunch bag, I debated whether to start my history outline now or later. With sigh, I decided that it would be better to start it now, so I tugged out my history textbook as well as my flashdrive. Just as I managed to free the lanyard on the USB from the mess of textbooks in my locker, the door slammed shut, making me yelp in surprise.

"What's up, nerd?"

I rolled my eyes toward the voice, not surprised to see my friend Melissa there. She seemed proud of herself for startling me as she chewed on a piece of gum. I frowned at her before replying to her normal "personalized greeting" for me—her words, not mine.

"Don't you have other people to harass?"

She beamed, glossy lips pulling tight over a row of perfectly white teeth. A small dimple showed in the middle of her cheek. There was no malice to her grin, but one could definitely tell that it wasn't a happy smile either.

"No."

I shook my head and hiked my backpack higher onto my shoulder. Seeing my obvious struggle for balance, Melissa took my laptop and textbook so I could situate my bag properly on my shoulders. I ushered her toward the computer lab, also known as my mother's classroom.

My mom sat in her seat nibbling on a sandwich as she stared intently at her monitor. Her curled brunette hair was tied back in a high ponytail as her navy blue eyes bounced around the screen. Her peachy lips were pursed in concentration, no doubt confused by the code that a student messed up. She looked young for a teacher, but I suppose her work didn't stress her out as it did the other teachers.

"Hi, Mrs. Donnelly," Melissa chirped, making her way back towards the empty tables that we occupied at every lunch hour.

"Hi, sweetie," she murmured, still focused on her monitor.

"Why don't you take a break, mum?" I followed Melissa and weaved through the rows of computers to the empty table.

She waved a hand in my direction dismissively, taking another nibble of her sandwich. "I'm already behind in grading these projects."

"Mum, those were just turned in two periods ago," I pointed out bluntly, taking my own sandwich out of my bag.

"Hush up, boy. Your accent is distracting."

I rolled my eyes. My accent was hardly distracting at all; it was really more like a lilt. Melissa laughed though, unwrapping plastic wrap from her cold pizza. She stood up and placed it in my mom's microwave for a few seconds before the obnoxious beeping filled the otherwise stagnant air.