Freshman

Jeremy, you're whipped.

Jeremy's POV

"You ready to start grade eleven?" Dani asks as we enter the school.

"I guess...." I mumble and she laughs. She's wearing a sheer blouse with necklace and jeans. She looks good, like usual.

"What?" she asks.

Crap she caught me staring. "Nothing." I mumble. I look at the crowd of people in front of us, and then to Dani.

"How are we supposed to navigate through the crowd to find our names?" I ask. She shrugs.

"You can drive in downtown Toronto, but can't navigate through a crowd?" she asks, looking up at me.

I roll my eyes. "I'm fairly certain downtown Toronto is less busy than this. This school is overcrowded."

She laughs as she makes her way through the crowd.

"Okay, Jones, Jones, Jones...aha! I have Geography with Mr Klein, room 215."

"Awesome." I move over to the list with Q to U. I trail my finger down the list until I get to my name.

"I have...French with Madame Connelly, room 223. Great, nothing like a shot of French to the brain to wake you up in the morning." She laughs.

"See you around Jeremy." She waves, walking down the hallway. I notice Lizzy approach her, and the two of them walk together.

Bye Dani.

______________

I walk into the class, and don't see anyone I know. At all.

Awesome.

I take the only empty seat in the back corner, looking at the room around me.

There's a white board on the front wall and the wall to the right in the room, just like every other class. The walls are navy blue cement, and plastered in cheesy posters promoting French.

There's a bulletin board on the back wall, and the teachers desk is at the front of the class. I can see cars zipping past through the window.

The teacher, Madam Connelly I think, is short and squat. She looks nice enough, and is wearing a burly grey sweater and jeans that are too short.

Look at me commenting on her clothes, I think I've been hanging out with Dani too much.

My classmates look just as lost as I feel, and are sparse. Not many people take grade eleven French. It's usually the more...academically inclined students that do.

Well at least that means the football team won't be here.

We start attendance.

"Liam Arnet."

"Here."

"Paula Boyd."

"Here."

"Charles DuPont."

No one answers.

I zone out until I hear my name.

"Jeremy Sawyer."

"Here."

The bell rings, and the class quickly stand for 'Oh Canada'

As the last notes of the song are played, I can hear the squeaking of sneakers on the floor. Sounds like some idiot went to the wrong class. Suddenly, the door slams open, a dark, curly haired guy standing there, slightly out of breath.

Holy crap that guy's hair could give Dani's a run for its money.

"Sorry...I'm late." he pants. "Traffic...was a bitch."