Claire's Point Of View

I sat on the corner of my bed staring at my hands. I had some small cuts from where I had bit my nails too much and some dirt from the bins, but the deep gashes on my arms had been hidden by my bed shirt. I looked around the small room that I lived in. The filthy mattress in the corner, a stack of old second hand books next to it and a messy pile of clothes on the other side of the room. This is my life. I stalked over to the clothes and tried to pick out the cleanest shirt and jeans. I settled for a black long-sleeved t-shirt, with only a few splashes of mud on it, and some clean blue jeans. This is as good as it gets. I slipped them on quickly and grabbed my worn backpack that was next to my 'bed'. There was no mirror in the room so I had to blindly pull my mousey brown hair back into a ponytail, slipped my tattered shoes on and walked to the door.

I sulked through the complicated maze of streets to get to the black bars of Morganville High School. Just lovely. There were a few students that lingered around the gates, smoking and what not, but I decided that I was going to go straight to English, mainly to avoid… well… people. I am quite an introvert. I weaved through the corridors and thought I was safe. You wish. I felt my foot being pulled from under me mid-stride and the inevitable occurred. I fell rather gracelessly to the floor; my books and papers flung around me and flittered to the ground. People in the hall gathered, pointing and laughing. The odd picture was taken.

I just kept my head down and tried to gather my books up and leave as soon as possible. But as I was about to pick up my last book a black-booted foot slammed down on it. Well shit. I looked up to be greeted by the sneering face of Monica Morrell. Her hair had recently been died honey blonde and fell beautifully around her shoulders, framing her perfect face seamlessly. She had on a mini (barely legal) skirt on and red skin tight top. She looked like any teenaged boys dream. Not again.

"Oh Claire!" She gasped sarcastically, still smiling. "Honey-bun, do you want some help?" She raised one of her perfectly plucked eye brows and outstretched her hand. Her nails were long and painted a sickly hot pink. I don't really need that book. I thought as I turned to stand up by myself. My back was to her as she grabbed my shoulder and tugged so I fell backwards, and landed rather clumsily on my butt. People started to laugh harder and film the little show. Monica leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Bitch I offered you help, you don't just ignore me." She stood back for a while and when I thought it was safe to get up she shoved me back down for good measure, thus scattering my books once more. New people had gathered and most of them were laughing, but I didn't concentrate too much on them.

The bell rang loudly and the crowd dispersed, including Monica. The hall way emptied almost instantly. I assumed it was safe to move and start collecting my books. I still kept my head bowed. I noticed a hand on my shoulder and quickly slapped it away and shuffled awkwardly from the boy standing in front of me now, who was now looking shocked.

"P-please j-j-just leave me alone." I managed to stutter. I had backed up into a wall and curled up, waiting for the punches to start. But I only felt a hand on my arm. I looked up from the tangle of my limbs and the boy's face was inches from mine. He had relatively long brown hair, which was perfectly (and effortlessly) mused – just verging on messy. He had lightly tanned skin free from blemishes and soft brown eyes. He stared right back at me. I hadn't seen him before.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He said firmly. All I could do was stare back into his eyes. I could get used to this. Suddenly I felt very self-conscious and looked down at my hands.

"I h-haven't seen y-you before…" My voice was a nervous squeak and I immediately felt embarrassed.

"I'm new, moved here last week. I'm Shane Collins." I looked back at him and he hadn't moved away, but he was now smiling softly. It was a nice smile, the kind that wasn't usually directed at me. It only used half of his mouth and should have looked crooked and strange, but just looked kind and, if I'm honest, incredibly sexy.

"Oh… well I'm Claire Danvers."

Shane's Point Of View

Claire Danvers. She looked terrified, and I felt like I should move back but I really didn't want to. She had a very small frame, and arched her back in a way that screamed don't talk to me. Her hair was pulled back in a simple knot, but her face was anything but simple. She had big dark eyes that looked so sad. One was shaded with a large blue bruise. She had full lips which had a big split placed on the corner. She had deathly pale skin but her cheeks were very pink.

"What happened?" I asked as softly as I could as I touched her black eye. She winced. I don't know why but I felt very protective over Claire.

"Oh… I-I fell." She lied.

"Oh… fell… Well if you aren't going to tell me the truth about the black eye then why don't you tell me why you were lying on the floor?" I wouldn't let her get away that easily.

"Monica." She whispered. Tears were forming in her eyes and I felt horrible. I shouldn't have pushed the issue. She obviously didn't want to talk about it. Shane, you douche. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. Before I knew what I was doing I lifted my hand and wiped them away, focusing on her skin. I looked back at her eyes and they were looking straight back into mine. My face was only about two inches away from hers and I slowly closed my eyes and began to lean forward, giving her plenty of time to pull away. But to me surprise, she didn't. I felt a pair of unresponsive lips pressed against mine. But after a second they reacted to my touch. I pressed my lips against hers more forcefully and she pushed right back. What the hell am I doing?

I slowly licked her lips, but before she could respond there was a loud (and fake) cough from behind us. I backed up and turned leisurely, smiling like an idiot. I was greeted by the unimpressed face of the school receptionist. I moved and leaning my back against the wall, next to Claire. I looked over to her and she was blushing furiously and looking down at her hands.

"Well?" The receptionist prompted. "What are you two doing?" I almost snorted. Wasn't it kind of obvious? But I bit my tongue. Claire started to mumble out an apology but I talked over her.

"Sorry Miss, it was my fault." She huffed.

"Detention, both of you. Now hurry up and get to class, you are already…" She looked down at her watch and gasped in horror, "seven minutes late! Go on, get to your classes." Claire scrambled to get her books from the floor, as the receptionist strutted away, and was up and walking away in record time, with her head bent. I stood up and jogged over to her, taking the books she was juggling and sorted them out.

"So what lesson do you have now?" I asked as she walked silently beside me.

"Oh, ummm, English, you?" She asked tentatively.

"English too, with Mr…" I paused, trying to remember the name.

"Mr Martin?" She asked.

"Yeah, I guess we're in the same class." I smiled to myself. We soon reached the door and I knocked loudly. I heard a distant Come in from in the class room, and entered my first lesson of Morganville High.