The Morse Club

Chapter Two: My First Encounter With The Morse Club

"CARMEN IT IS SEVEN FORTY WHY ARE YOU STILL IN BED." Justin roused me from my deep sleep.
"Liar~ my alarm hasn't gone off yet." I grumbled, turning over in my bed.
"You set your alarm for six pm, not am."
"What." I bolted upright, startling Justin. I grabbed my new iPhone, still in need of a case, and checked the time.

7:42

My mind became a storm. Like, a Hurricane Katrina type of storm. Pushing Justin out of my boring beige room, I stripped my ' Got Milk?' t-shirt and my battered red shorts, hurriedly putting on my uniform blue plaid skirt, crisp white button up shirt, and I threw on the schools sleeveless light blue vest for fashion. Running a brush through my thick black mane while i struggled on my white knee high socks, I let the anger for Justin rise. WHY DIDNT HE WAKE ME UP?! I pulled on my black flats and rushed out the door.
"Wait, did you brush your teeth?"
"NO TIIIIIIIME!"
"Gross."
"JUST GET CRANK THE TRUCK!"
Me and Justin ran outside and into my dad's old blue pickup truck.
I jumped into the passenger seat the at same time Justin stumbled into the drivers seat. He took the keys out of his pocket and fumbled to find the car keys.
"OHMYGODJUSTFINDTHEKEYSANDGO!" I shouted all in one breath. Finally he found the right one and cranked it, the old hand me down car grumbling to life. We speed off into the morning sun, my anxiety slowly fading.
"Where's Mom and Dad?" I asked. If my alarm didn't wake me up, they sure did.
"They had a class on catching fish or something dumb like that."
"Ooooooh." We rode in silence for a while, stopping at the occasional red light. When we arrived at school, even though today was technically our first day, it was our second time being late.

"Bye, useless excuse for a little sister!"
"Byeeeee!"
I called back happily.
When we went our separate ways, I
realized I had no idea where homeroom was. After a minute of wandering in total confusion, I heard rushed footsteps from behind. A gangly, tall boy was running in my direction.
"Hey, wait!" I said without thinking.
He was about to turn a corner when he heard me. As he spun around to look at me, I realized my mistake. (Or was it my miracle?) This boy was hot. Like, seriously hot. If he went to Baskin Robbins, you'd have to drink the ice cream because his sheer hotness melted it. His skin was milky, and his raven hair was parted slightly to the right, just long enough to cover his left eyebrow. His eyes were a mesmerizing pale blue. I realized I was checking him out and quickly burst into mission mode.
"Where is Mrs. Jameson's classroom? I, uh, am lost." I said, stuttering for a second at his beauty.
I saw a quick conflict in his eyes, before he replied in a kind voice that reminded me of a teddy bear,
"I'll show you. Follow me."
He spun on his heels and swiftly walked forward.
"Oh, t-thank you!" I jogged to catch up as the words gasped from my mouth quickly.
"Mm, no problem. What grade are you in?"
"Eleventh."
"I'm a grade above you, then." He shifted his eyes to me as he fixed a compassionate smile on his face that was warm enough to melt marshmallows. I think I just died.
He pointed down a corridor with his slender hands.
"Sixth door on the right." He said, then rotating to face the opposite direction.
"Isn't your class in this hallway too?" I asked.
"No, it's on the other side of campus!" He yelled back as he ran to get to his class.

What. He just?... I blushed, slightly mad at him for being so compassionate. Even though he was late, he took the time to take me to my class when his is in the opposite direction.
Damn kind upperclassmen.
I remembered, 'hey, I'm late too!' and turned to the door. Taking a deep breath, I opened it and stepped inside.
21 pairs of eyes rested on me. Least it wasn't the whole school looking at me this time.
"Nice of you to join us." Mrs. Jameson said. She was a tiny woman, pale and slender. Not in a pretty way, though. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and I could see her bones. Her face was wrinkled from years of stress, and coarse grey hair was wrestled into a tight bun atop her head.
"Class, this is Carmen Moree. She's new this year. Carmen, you sit in the back." She flicked her bony hand in the direction of a strawberry haired girl. An empty desk sat next to her.
"Uh, thank you." I walked past the rows of desks, each one carrying a person with judging eyes glued onto me, and slid into my seat. Their eyes turned back to Mrs. Jameson as she rapped a ruler on her desk. She went back into a a history lecture of Saint Gloria Private Academy. I stole a glance at my strawberry-haired neighbor. She had curly pigtails and and short, side-swept bangs that covered her freckled face. Apparently she noticed me staring, because piercing green looked back at me. She ripped a piece of paper from the pink notebook opened in front of her and scribbled something on it. She glanced left and right quickly before passing it to me.