Day one of Hell, Oliver Thredson thought to himself, scowling. He was walking to school in freshly pressed, itchy corduroys, an uncomfortably tight button down shirt, and loafers that pinched his toes whenever he walked.

I hate this place, I hate this place, I hate this place so fucking much. Oliver couldn't wait until he finally escaped the wretched, god-forsaken hell that was given the innocent name of 'High School'.

He was almost done with school. One more year and he would be free.

Free of the choking hold of stupidity, free of his cold foster parents, free of his tainted shell. He would go to Stanford, or Harvard, or maybe Berkeley.

Anywhere would be better than here.

As he walked into the school building, he heard the all too familiar taunts.

Nice glasses, spaz.

I think my grandfather wants his clothes back.

Is the psycho back again?

He tripped over one of his bully's feet and tumbled forward, almost landing face-first on the ground. His papers and books were haphazardly strewn about the floors as he saw the faces of his tormentors laughing at him. He glared at all of them before he saw an unfamiliar girl picking up his papers and books.

She had long dark hair and tan, warm skin. Her eyes were large and dark. She smiled at him and handed him his school supplies.

He flushed and took them from her, walking in the other direction as fast as possible.

He got to his first class, AP Physics, before any of his other future class mates. He set down his 5-year old messenger bag on a desk and placed his books inside of the desk.

The teacher looked at him, undoubtedly judging him by his thick, tortoiseshell glasses and his old, worn clothes.

Oliver sat down and tried to avoid any eye contact with the students coming into the classroom.

"Pick whatever seats you would like. I trust you all to make good decisions," the teacher said, his voice slightly raspy.

Oliver hoped someone may choose him to sit next to, but no one did.

8:29

One more minute until this school officially starts.

All of a sudden, a girl came rushing through the door as the final bell rung. She seemed disheveled and she was breathing heavily. She plopped down right next to Oliver.

To his surprise, it was the exact girl who had picked up his things in the hallway for him.

The teacher cleared his throat and introduced himself as Mr. Thompson.

He seemed like an alright guy to Oliver. He was smart, kind, and eager to get to know his students.

He gave them all a syllabus and told them what kind of experiments they would do throughout the year, how many tests there would be, and how much homework they would get.

Finally, the end of the class came, and Oliver rushed off to his next class, Calculus.

The girl with the dark hair seemed to be following him, which made Oliver extremely uneasy. Just as he was about to snap at her, she walked into Room 509. Calculus.

It seemed as though he would get the divine pleasure of being in yet another class with her.

In this class, they had seating arrangements.

Great. It's as though I'm in grade school again. Oliver thought bitterly as he found himself sitting next to the mystery girl again.

"What's your name?" she asked him, as he fidgeted in his seat.

"Oliver," he muttered, turning his attention to anywhere but her.

"That's a nice name! My name is Alyce," she told him. Her hair was soft and shiny looking. And she smelt really good.

He breathed in air slowly, as to not alert her that he was smelling her, and smelled strawberries and a more musky scent.

"So," she spoke again, feeling a bit awkward at his lack of response. "What do you like to do?"

"I like to read," he said softly. He wasn't quite used to people just coming up and talking to him. It was odd.

"Cool! What do you like to read?"

"Um, different things. I liked 1984 and Animal Farm."

"Those books were good," she agreed, smiling softly. Oliver couldn't help but think that the soft curve of her lips was absolutely beautiful. He quickly shook that thought out of his head.

He didn't have time for stupid, mind-clouding thoughts like those.

"Uh, yeah. I like satirical writings," he stuttered. She smiled again, her eyes were so dark and pretty…

He looked at the board, trying not to think about her. Or her long hair. Or her cupid's bow lips.

She seemed to realize that he didn't want to talk to her and so she turned her attention to anywhere but him.

Oliver felt slightly guilty. He shouldn't have made her feel so unwanted. It was very rude of him, especially after what she did to help him this morning.

He didn't quite know what to do, and all too soon, it was time to go to Anatomy.

She wasn't in that class. It felt like something was missing.

At lunchtime, he didn't have anyone to sit with and he didn't have anything to eat. Per usual.

Alyce was sitting alone, too, but he knew he would be intruding on her privacy if he were to go and sit with her, especially after how rude he was to her this morning.

Oh, but how he did want to go talk to her, to apologize at least. He cursed himself for not having the courage to get up and talk to Alyce.

She was just so pretty and sweet, he knew the possibility was high for her to ridicule him after him blatantly ignoring her during Calculus.

Still, he found his legs moving towards her place at the table.

She looked up at him with one dark brown eyebrow raised.

"Hello Oliver," she greeted him.

"H-hi Alyce. I um, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior this morning. I had a lot on my mind," he explained. She just nodded and took another bite out of her sandwich. Oliver stood there, twiddling his thumbs as other people began to notice him standing in front of the small girl.

Bobby, the school's resident bully scoffed at Oliver.

"Hey, cutie, this freak bothering you?" he jeered.

"No, we were just talking, thank you," she responded primly. Bobby narrowed his eyes and walked away to his table in the middle of the cafeteria.

"May I sit with you?" Oliver asked Alyce. She nodded slightly and he walked around to sit next to her.

"Where's your lunch?" Alyce asked. He didn't want to admit that he didn't have money to buy food and that his foster home only fed him dinner and occasionally breakfast.

"I forgot it at home," he lied. Alyce tore off half of her sandwich and set it in front of Oliver. "Oh, no thanks, I'll be fine," he said.

"Just eat it, it'll be good for you," she responded.

He reluctantly took the sandwich and bit into it. It was one of the best sandwiches he'd eaten in a long, long time. He closed his eyes and savored the taste. She giggled softly.

"I made it myself! You like it?" she asked.

Oliver nodded and continued to eat the sandwich. Alyce smiled proudly and polished off her half.

"What class do you have next?" she asked him. He swallowed the rest of the sandwich and answered,

"Psychology."

"No way! Me too!" she exclaimed. He smirked.

"Good luck, Psychology is my best subject," he gloated.

"How peculiar! It's my best as well," she smirked, a slight gleam in her eye. It seemed like a challenge to Oliver. He accepted the challenge with gusto.

He was going to show her just how great he really was.