My bad-boy mate

one.

"Casey get out of your bed now!". I woke up with loud screaming from my mother. She always does this, she never let me sleep in.

However, today is different. Today is the first day of my senior year. my last year of high school starts today, and I'm ready to make it count. 

I've never looked forward to school. but this year I am. After this year, I'll be done. Well, not school but high school. I'll be done with the crappy teachers, done with the popular girls, done with all the drama. I already know  that I'm not going to make any friends this year, I've always been a loner.  Ever since I started high school, I've only had one friend. 

Rosie Chandler.

Rosie has been my friend since grade nine when I accidentally run to her during lunch and spilled my spaghetti all over her. She was nice, though. Unlike the other girls, who would probably have slit open my throat. 

I get stumble out of my bed, throwing on a t-shirt and some jeans. I rush downstairs and start making my breakfast. 

"Excited for the first day of school?" My mom asks, I nod in response.

"Yeah, I guess. I just hope there isn't any drama this year. Or at least if there is, not concerning me. I'm not here for that," I say as I grab my freshly toasted bread from the toaster. I lather jam and peanut butter on it and quickly  scarf it down. The first day of school nerves, I guess.

"Mom, what time is it ?" I wonder. She pulls out her phone and turns it on to check the time.    "8.30 AM." She replies "You better get ready soon, or else you'll be late."

I silently agree, heading upstairs and into the washroom. I take out my Crest White toothpaste  and put it in on my brush. I put on some music and start jamming out while I brush my teeth. Once I'm done. I wash my face and put some soft makeup on.

Grabbing my backpack and walking out the door, I say a quick goodbye to my mom and leave.     

"Rosie !" I yell to the girl across the street. We always walk to school together. I remember how happy we were when we realized we lived right across from each other. 

"Hey girl! Are you excited for senior year ?" She asks me.

I snort. "You sound like Sharpay from High School Musical, Rosie." 

Rosie laughs at that and doesn't respond. The comforting silence between us settles my nervous butterflies. We turn a few corners, and I can see the school from distance. "Rosie, I hope we have classes together, I'm not trying to stuck with girls like Becca this year." 

Ah yes, I thought, Becca Lizzen. She was a stereotypical  popular girl. Rich, a cheerleader, and blonde. Last year, I had four out of  my classes with her. I honestly never wanted to strangle someone so badly in my entire life. she has a nasally voice, and everything she would say would be just so --- dumb.

"Don't worry, Casey, you'll be fine."

I really hope so.

-

Walking through the halls as a senior is something I don't think I'll ever get used to. It's such a weird feeling, being older than everyone else. it's even weirder to see the freshman. They're so small. Rosie and I said to each other.

Sadly, Rosie and I had two classes together. My first-period class was English, and her's was Chemistry. We bid to each other goodbye and left for our respective classes.

I take a seat near the back of the class and get out my binders, I look around.

Oh great, Becca just happens to be in my class, and same with her two friends Lindsay and Nicole.

Our teacher starts doing attendance when a boy--- no scratch that --- a man walks in.

I roll my eyes.

He is wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and his hair is slicked back. he has a piercing, green eyes, and voluminous black hair. his jawline could probably cut through a brick. He has a smirk on his face that screams "I'm better than you", and anyone could feel the confidence oozing of him. I didn't need to look to know that Becca and the girls were snowing.

We make eye contact for, and a swear a spark of electricity happens. His smirk grows wider. "hello young man, what's your name?" My teacher, Ms. Catherine.

The man turns his gaze from mine to the teacher and dust of pink appears on her cheeks. No way. " My name is Damon Baker," He said with a low husky tone.

"Ah, well you can just find yourself a seat," Ms. Catherine responds.

Damon brings his eyes back to mine maintaining eye-contact with me as he walks down the aisle of desks, passing my an awestruck Becca, and sits in the seat next to mine. He leans in close to me, and I can feel his hot breath on my neck.

"Hello, mate."

what?