FIRST DAY
THIRD PERSONWhen she says the drive was painful, the drive was painful. Whoever was stuck in traffic next to Elsa thought that that was the appropriate time to sob over Zayn leaving One Direction. When My Chemical Romance broke up, you didn't see them doing crazy shit like that. Rolling her eyes, she pulled up in the student parking lot.
All around her, students of all races, genders, and sexualities buzzed from person to person, car to car. Pretty girls handed out bright colored flyers while a group of cheerleaders hovered around anyone attractive. An a Capella group sang welcome songs from behind a blue table, and boys with matching shirts threw water balloons at unsuspecting freshmen.
I stepped out of the car, walking to the back. From the corner of my eye, I saw a lanky, awkward teenager struggling to carry a(n) (extremely beautiful) bass. Chuckling, I approached his car.
"Need help?" I asked, coming up behind him. He let out a cry of surprise, almost dropping it.
"O-oh, sorry about that, I di-didn't see you there." He chuckled nervously.
"No kidding." I got a good look at the kid, and noticed he was probably only a year younger then me. He had shaggy brown hair, which almost covered his deep green eyes.
"Thanks anyway, but I've got this."
"Alright, but we careful." He flashed me a grateful smile, before carrying the bass away.
Grabbing my guitar case, and my backpack, I walked toward the school.
ALRIGHT THIS IS IT FOR NOW K KOOL
YOU ARE READING
Impress Your Partner
RandomTellamore Academy For The Performing Arts isn't just anyway school: it's THE school to attend. It's where all the greats are born, and taught to be great. It's ruled by the strictest teachers in the country, and full of Beyonce wannabes. All it take...