"Bloody Hell, Margarett, the oven's broken down again!"

I stirred awake from the sound of my father's rampant yelling, opening my hazel-brown eyes. I throw the covers off of me, and head over to my closet. The paint-peeled door creaked slowly open, dust flying out in whirlwinds. I coughed as I grabbed my uniform, wincing when I saw the peanut butter and jelly sandwich stain from last week having not washed out. I put it on, and headed to the bathroom to examine myself in the mirror. I made a prideful face, smirking a little as I puffed out my collar.

"Not bad, Malcolm." I said to myself, flexing a little.

My genes made for a lot of odd, physical traits. My mom was black, and my dad was white, so I had naturally tan, biracial skin and a lot of curly, black hair. I had a few freckles on each cheek, and had bright, white teeth, which had been perfectly aligned after braces that took a year of saving up from my parents to achieve.

I walked out of the bathroom, grabbing my backpack and heading down our rickety hallway to the living room, where my dad was punching the oven back into working condition. My mom was spreading peanut butter on stale bread, both of my parents tired.

"Good morning, Malcolm!" My father gleefully yelled, finally getting the oven to turn back on.

"Morning, dad. Morning, mum."

"Morning, honey." My mother ruffled my hair, causing me to groan childishly.

"Mum, c'mon! It's my first day at this dumb school, and you're going to mess up my hair?"

"Oy, don't call it dumb!" My dad stated, turning to face me. "You were lucky enough to win the raffle to make it to that private school, son!"

"It wasn't luck, dad, it was my brain! If I didn't pass that test, I wouldn't have even been selected for the raffle!" I grumbled, grabbing an apple and crunching it as my mother handed me the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "The bus is on its way, Malcolm! Don't want to be late, do we?"

"*SIGH* No, mum." I walked outside as the bus pulled up, already anticipating my return home eight hours later.

Later, in the school building…

I walked through the halls, slumping around with one hand in my pocket. The other was holding my sandwich, which, I munched on lazily. I stopped when I heard what sounded like a girl talking to a man on a phone in the hall I was about to turn into.

"Daddy, I want a boyfriend."

"Veruca, dear, it's not that simple."
"What do you mean, it's not that simple? Half the people at this school are boys!"

"Veruca, dear, I mean you can't purchase a boy to be in a relationship with. Life doesn't work like that."

"Well, I want one! All the other girls I know have boyfriends by now! I'm fourteen, I deserve one!"

"Weird." I muttered to myself. "I'll just walk past her and not-"

I was cut off when I turned the hall, and collided directly with the girl. Our foreheads crashed together, and our mouths were an inch apart. I dropped my sandwich, and winced when I saw it land on her shoe. She dropped her phone, which coincidentally landed directly in the palm of my hand. We both fell to the ground, facing opposite of each other.
"Ouch...Sorry about-"

"You idiot!" The girl said, rubbing her forehead and looking at her shoe while standing up. "You imbecile! You got jelly on my new shoes! You-" She turned and looked me in the eyes, and then paused. "You…"

"What? Is there something wrong?" I asked. I realized that I had caught her cellular device. "Oh, you dropped your phone. Here you go." I extended my hand to her, and she quickly snatched the phone.

"Yes, I'm aware." She seethed. She shot me a glare as she folded her arms. "Who ARE you?"

"Me? Like, my name?"

She rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yes, idiot."

"Oh, my name's Malcolm. Malcolm Sugar. What's yours?" I extended my hand again, a nervous smile on my face.

The girl raised an eyebrow at my hand as she said, "Veruca Salt."

I examined the girl more closely. She was pale, with brown, curly hair and a crisp, completely unwrinkled uniform. She had confident, blue eyes that were still staring at my hand. She's actually pretty cute.

I reeled my hand back, putting it on my neck in nervousness. "So, uh, what grade are you in?"

"I'm a freshman."

"Oh, really? Me too!" I flashed finger-guns, an embarrassed smile on my face. I put said guns away when I saw her still giving me a judgemental look.

"Hm. Which class do you have first?"

"Uh…" I pulled out my schedule, examining the list. "Mr. Davis."

"Second?"

"Mrs. Brown."

"Third?"

"Ms. Wilson."

"Last?"

"Mr. Moore."

I was surprised when I saw surprise cross her face. "We have all the same classes." She said.

"Wow. That's almost destiny, or something."

A tint of red creased her pale cheeks, and I could swear I heard her whisper, "You'll do."

"Wait, what did you say?" I asked.

"Children, make your way to class!" The headmaster threatened.

"Yes, sir!" Veruca said, flashing a wide-tooth, dimpled grin. She looked… really cute.

Her cute grin left her face as she glared at me again. She folded her arms and walked away, sticking her tongue out at me.

"Crap." I muttered, heading to my class.

Later, in the class…

I sat in my desk, taking notes as the teacher droned on. I glanced over to Veruca, and was surprised when I saw that she was looking at me while biting her lip. Our eyes locked, and she blushed and turned away. Every few minutes, I would catch her looking at me with...her eyes…

In every class.

Eventually, school had been let out. As we exited, I felt Veruca purposely bump into me, knocking me to the ground. She strutted away as I stood, her back turned as she left the building.

I made it out into the school yard, where I saw Veruca walk towards a very expensive looking car. As she entered, she looked directly at me. I nervously waved goodbye, a smile on my face.

Her response was rolling her eyes at me before closing the door. I sighed in defeat, and headed to the bus.

Veruca Salt's POV

"So, Mistress Salt, how was the first day?" Veruca's butler, Edwin, asked.

"Painfully predictable." Veruca said, examining her face in a mirror she held. "My classes are led by simpletons. All the girls want to be my friend because of my wealth. And all the boys…." Veruca paused, remembering the boy she had run into. His awkward body language… His smile… His curly hair…. His freckles…. What was his name? Milton? Matthew? Maximillion?

"What was that about a boy?" Edwin asked.

"There was...A new boy." Veruca stated, a blush on her face. "He and I talked. It was like he didn't know who I was." Veruca smiled a little as she said this, an image of the boy in her head. "He was...Nice to me."

"Does this boy have a name? Maybe your father could use his money to help you pursue this young man."

Veruca finally remembered his name, and ACTUALLY grinned for possibly the first time in her life. "Malcolm. His name is Malcolm." Veruca's voice lowered as she whispered, "and he's going to be my boyfriend."