The way he looked at me you would've thought that we had known each other for a hundred years, but believe me I would have remembered a body like that. He has hair that's brown and wavy. His eyes are peircing blue kinda like mine. He had washboard abs, you could just tell. The kind that you can't hide if you're wearing five layers of clothes and a parka.
News in the halls were that he was a new kid sent here from Jersey cause his mom couldn't handle him anymore. Apparently he burnt down his garage and his mom was tired of all his shit. His dad, Michael Wilson, is a big recording producer. It has been my dream to have him let me record one of my songs in his studio. The school I go to isn't normal. Los Angeles School of the Arts. We have everything here from painters and sketchers to dancers to musical artists.
If you want to go to LASA (Las Angeles School of the Arts) then you have to be extremely talented or have connections. I assumed the latter. The first time I saw him was in chorus class. At LASA you have to audition to be in chorus so I couldn't wait to hear that. As soon as he walked in I felt almost a buzz and then I realized it was all the girls in the class. He came right over to me and sat down next to me. The room got silent. I was the "Queen Bee" and everyone wanted to see the reaction I had so they would have some juicy gossip for lunch next period. If I didn't do anything than I had a crush on him but if I told him to beat it then I really was a bitch. I decided to let him stay but scooted in the opposite direction a few inches. I thought," Let them think about that!"
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