Braelyn
I shifted my heavy bag on my shoulder uncomfortably, painfully aware of its bright pink hue(my aunt had picked it out for me). Other students at Whitechapel High bustled past me in a rough manner, too busy with their own problems to care about the shy new kid gawking awkwardly around.
After a moment or so of wondering how my chatty aunt had convinced me to come here(of all places, a public school!), I sighed and started trudging in the general direction of my first class. I honestly hadn't the first clue which room it was in, but the head office was on the other side of the building and it was too much effort to request a schedule. Plus, I recognized some of my classmates from the open house, so it was easier just to follow them.
The school building was huge. Honestly, why didn't I just stay at my nice, small private school that I'd attended my whole life? So what if I never ventured beyond my little trio of best friends? It was easier than roughing it at a scandalous place like this.
After admittedly getting lost once or twice, I finally managed to locate my first classroom, with less than a minute to spare before class started. Now for the next problem. Where to sit? Should I risk setting my books down between a pair of noisy jocks, or would Mrs. I'm-So-Amazing-Cheerleader be a better selection? Perhaps I'd best opt for beside that quiet, geeky-looking kid. After all, it would most likely pay off to know an A student, and from what I could tell, this kid knew his stuff. He rubbed off on me as organized and meticulous, yet with a hint of intractability that marked him as a geek. A somewhat good-looking one, for sure, but a geek all the same.
My decision was made. I plopped quite un-gracefully down next to my selected techie.
As I began organizing my books and such, the boy looked away from the brunet he had been chatting with and turned to face me.
A glittering pair of deep chocolate eyes met mine, and as my heart melted in my chest, I knew immediately I'd fallen for him.
Drat.
"Hey, I'm Ethan. Are you new here?"
Oh no. Oh no. I definitely cannot speak right now. What should I say? Should I just nod? Maybe I should try to sound cool—
"Meep." I managed to produce an entirely unimpressive squeak that sounded suspiciously like a squirrel.
…I'm a failure.
Ethan quirked an eyebrow in an oh-so-hot manner, his expression confused. "Is that a yes?"
"M-mm-hmm."
"Oh. Okay. What's your name?"
Just then, our jovial teacher paraded in, declaring loudly, "Hello students. I hope you've all had a good summer. Please say 'here' if you are present."
He thus began calling out name after name, pausing expectantly after each to allow its owner to respond.
"Marissa Adams?"
A short redhead piped up cheerily, "Here!"
"Jeff Ali?"
"Hey."
"Sarah Bennett?"
"Present."
"Kelsey Cole?"
"'Ello."
"Ethan Morgan?"
"Hi." Ethan replied smoothly.
Ethan Morgan. I mentally spoke his name, wondering how it would sound on my tongue. I like his name. It suits him.
A couple rows ahead of us, a brown-haired girl jumped, startling the life out of me. She ogled at Ethan as if shocked, and he smiled and gave a tiny wave back.
I couldn't help but feel jealous.
"Delia Sinclair?"
Once again, the seemingly jumpy girl from before jerked upright in her chair. "Wh—Oh. Uhhh…Here."
She's pretty, I noticed. Her chocolate locks flowed silkily over her shoulders, draping over her pink sweater, ironically from Delia's, and shrouding her face from view.
I wonder how she knows Ethan. Are they…dating or something? The thought appalled me.
A few desks away from me, the brunet Ethan had been chatting with before and another, somewhat cute blond started up a ruckus, snorting not-so-quietly at something the latter had sketched.
"What are you two staring at?" Delia craned her head backward inquiringly, inducing the blond to hold up a picture drawn roughly on notebook paper of our teacher ranting tyrant-style. I muffled a giggle of amusement.
Then began the note-taking. Apparently our teacher really was some sort of oppressor, or maybe a former rapper, because he talked at an inhuman speed without pausing for breath(and still expected us to copy it down). We quickly discovered that asking him to repeat himself was not a smart idea, as he would begin the entire past ten minutes of his tirade over again, precisely the same as before. There was nothing to be done about it, however; he evidently was a stubborn man. After a couple feeble protests, we all gave in and resigned to doodling absentmindedly.
A good thirty minutes into class, a rustling of paper and a tap at my elbow caught my attention. Waking from a doze I hadn't even realized I'd been in, I blinked and looked to the side. Ethan was holding something out to me — a scribbly note, I realized.
Bemused, I took the note from him and opened it up. It read:
'You never did tell me your name. What is it?'
Stifling a smile, I scrambled for a pencil and scrawled down an answer quickly. 'I'm Braelyn.' Then I passed the note back to him, careful to stay out of Mr. Leroy's line of view.
Ethan's gorgeous chocolate eyes twinkled as he read my reply, and he wrote on the paper yet again. 'That's a really pretty name. Where are you from?'
'Angels' Grove Prep.'
'Oh, I know a girl who went there. Delia, two rows ahead of you. We've been friends since birth, pretty much.'
So that's how he knew her. 'Cool. I've never met her before, that's odd.'
'Hm, wonder why.'
Suddenly, a flash of boldness struck my heart, and I hesitantly scribbled a new message on a fresh piece of lined paper.
'Um, do you mind if I eat lunch with you later on? I don't really know anyone yet…'
My heart thumped anxiously at this audacious request. I immediately regretted asking so precipitously, but I refused to erase it, and reached to pass the note to his desk. However, when I extended my arm toward him, our hands brushed against each other, and I immediately felt him tense. The note dropped to the floor.
My body went rigid, and my vision swirled. What's going on? I wanted to scream. Clouds of white, unsubstantial vapor eddied in my view, darkening to form a certain brunet's face, his eyes as deep a chocolate as if he were real.
Ethan.
Then, quite abruptly, his eyes went blank, seemingly filling with the same snowy mist as mine were. His figure stiffened, giving him the effect that his presence had been temporarily dragged into another world.
As suddenly as it came, the trance ended. My eyesight cleared, and I stared at Ethan, my jaws gaping. He looked as shocked as I felt.
What just happened? I mouthed.
His eyes were dark and ominous(yet somehow still hot). He grabbed for a new paper, scribbling another, more urgent-looking note on the back.
'Meet me outside the classroom as soon as class ends. I'll explain everything then.'
I nodded in consent, and he turned toward the teacher, who was rambling animatedly about some dead guy from WWI. It wasn't until a moment later that I realized belatedly that Ethan hadn't seen my written request.