He was perfect. Allen Vincent Bridges was perfect. At least, in my mind. Let me introduce myself; I am Hannah Ester Brookstone. I am just an average girl with her friends, with a crush on the school's bad-boy. Just like everyone else. I mean, what's not to love about Allen? His midnight eyes, his red-brown hair that is dyed pink in the back… But it's just like everyone else, or so I've heard. It all started in freshman year.

~0OoO0OoO0~

I was walking down the hall at my new high school. It was a day in and I still was overwhelmed with the crowd. At least I had my best friend; who was new here also, but was quite the extrovert. Unfortunately he was at home, with a nasty fever. You could say that I was basically the introvert that was dragged to a party here. My original school was so much smaller and it was in a different state! I was a Minnesota home-girl and now I was forced to move with my dad to a different state. My family has to move quite a bit, so I would change schools quite often. It was a year at my old school when I was informed of the new 'job opportunity'. Hence why I am in New York. Sure the high school is big and fancy, but I would much rather be in my old home.

I ended up bumping into Allen when my head was focused on the white tiles of the halls, I ended up dropping my books and I mumbled a quick apology. My eyes trailed upward and I saw his face. The first thought that went through my mind was perfect, then hot, then perfect again. I felt my cheeks heat up and I pushed one strand of my short black hair out of my field of vision. I blushed deeper as he smiled at me. Once again, P-E-R-F-E-C-T!

"Where ya heading?" He asked, the small smile not leaving his face.

"U-Um, homeroom and social studies with Mr. Wesley." I replied, cursing at the stutter in my voice.

"Heh, same. Though I call him Mr. Weasel just for fun, ya know?"

"Y-Yeah…"

"Well see ya later." He turned around and started walking down the hall, receiving many love-struck looks on the way. I scowled slightly at that, looks like I wasn't the only one with a crush on him.

I looked at my watch and started speeding down the hall. I ended up getting a seat right in the front of the class. Allen was a few seats over, a small frown present on his face, I personally thought it didn't look right. The teacher walked in just as the bell echoed throughout the halls and closed the door. He scanned the room with a bored expression and sat at his desk.

"Until I get a proper list to mark you all on, I will stick to roll call.

Abby Wyndham?" After many names, everyone but me was called. I was going to speak up, but 'Mr. Bad-Boy' did that for me.

"Hey, Mr. Weasel?" Allen called out, earning quite a few snickers from the peanut gallery.

"Wesley. And yes?" The teacher asked curtly, looking up from the papers he was skimming over.

"Ya kind of forgot someone."

"Hm. Seems I did. Sorry about that Hannah. I will inform the office that you are here."

I received a few stares, and I felt the need to shrink down into my seat. After the mistake was cleared up, the class was sent to the library to get our textbooks and a reading book. The library was huge! It had a more classical feel to it and the walls were covered by bookshelves. In the center was a lounge-type-place and on the far left there were computers. Lots and lots of computers. We were assigned alphabetically by last names so I was up front more. After learning that we were going to do a project on WWII I was overjoyed. I could tell that most of the students were not very happy, but I was a HUGE history buff. I can thank Hetalia for that. I learned more facts from an anime from my actual eighth grade class. Sad, really.

Once we returned to our class after putting our books in our locker, I learned that Mr. Wesley had a… odd method of choosing groups. He went around with two hats filled with names. One for the girls, and one for the guys. There were more girls in this class and Mr. Wesley went through the names backwards. By the time my name was called, there were only girls left. I ended up getting a girl known as Hermione Banks. She scoffed at the choice, and was looking at Allen with a look of lust and want. Her bright brown eyes were a void of hate. I was cursing internally and smiling kindly on the outside. This would be an interesting project, but I had a plan.