"Hurry up, Harry! We're going to be late!" I say, throwing my backpack onto my shoulders.

"I know, John! I'm coming!" she replies, running down the stairs.

The beginning of the school year is always hectic at the Watson household. I'm going into eleventh grade, and Harry- my older sister- is going into twelfth. She's been boasting ever since the beginning of summer holiday that she's going to be leaving home soon. I can't wait for her to go. We aren't the best of friends; we barely even speak to each other.

I am dreading walking to the bus stop with Harry every day this year. Mike, one of my good friends, used to walk with me; but he moved away this summer.

When we get on the bus, Harry immediately drifts off and goes to sit with her friends. I don't mind. I sit toward the front of the bus by myself. I take out my iPod, and start listening to music. I glance at the seat next to me and see another boy sitting alone. He has dark curly hair, and is wearing a dark colored hoodie, skinny jeans, and black converse sneakers. He is looking out of the window, hands in his pockets.

He looks lonely.

I turn my head back around, aware now that I am staring. I have never seen him before. 'Is he new?' I think to myself.

I dare to take another look at him- but when I turn my head I find that he is looking over at me too. Neither one of us say a word. Now that I can see his face, I realize that he is drop-dead gorgeous. He looks like he could be a model.

His eyes are so blue.

I blush and turn away from him completely. 'Pull yourself together, John. He's going to think you're weird!' I keep my eyes on the window next to me rest of the bus ride to school. The boy never utters a word to me.

I don't even know his name.

All throughout the school day, I ask my friends about him. He is quite a mystery; not many people know who he is or where he came from. The few people who had a class with him all responded in the same way:

"Oh, Freak? Yeah, I know him."

"Why do you call him that?" I would ask.

"He's really weird. He can tell you your whole life story in two seconds. It's fucking creepy…"

During lunch, I prayed that I would have at least one class with him in the second half of the day. 'Why am I doing this?' I think. 'It's just some boy… A really gorgeous one…' As I think this, I notice him sitting in the back corner of the lunch room by himself. I decide to go over and talk to him.

"Um.. Hello. I'm John." I sit down in the seat directly across from him. He looks up at me with his huge blue eyes; he looks surprised that a human being willingly chose to sit next to him and talk to him.

"I know." He says, startling me with how deep his voice is. His eyebrows furrow as he looks at me- he looks lost in thought. "Interesting… eleventh grade, captain of the rugby team, single, bad relations with older brother."

"What's your name?" I ask, completely avoiding the fact that he'd gotten most of that information right.

"Don't you already know?"

"No, I don't… actually-"

"I know people are talking about me."

"Don't worry about them. They just like picking on the new kids."

"Sherlock."

"What?"

"That's my name."

"Sherlock? That's a cool name." I say with a smile. 'John, that was so lame! You're going to embarrass yourself!'

"Oh. Thank you."

"Yeah, I'm John." 'Fuck. I said that already. No. Do over. Fuck.'

"Is something wrong?" Sherlock asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"No! Nothing's wrong. I… sorry."

"It's quite alright, John."

I suddenly realize that he doesn't have anything to eat.

"You aren't eating anything." I say.

"I'm not hungry. Why should I be eating if I'm not hungry?"

"No, I just… I just thought you might need something to get through the day."

"I'm fine, thank you." Sherlock then turns toward his open book and starts reading again; he's completely forgotten me.

"Am I… bothering you?" I ask.

"No, of course not." He looks up from his book. "It's nice to have someone to sit with. People usually don't want to associate with me."

"Why not?"

"I'm different."

"You seem pretty normal to me." I say, smiling.

"You wouldn't understand." He says, letting me know I've hit a touchy subject.

"So… what kind of books do you like?"

"Are you trying to make conversation?"

"Um.. I think so…"

Sherlock chuckles at that, which makes my stomach fill up with butterflies. 'John. Stop it. You're not gay!'

"I like detective stories. Mysteries. Ones filled with adventure."

"I like fantasy books." I reply.

Sherlock doesn't respond at first, but then looks me right in the eyes. "Aren't you going to eat?"

I've been so distracted by Sherlock that I'd forgotten I had a lunch tray in front of me. Surprised, I start eating just as the bell rings for next period. As students get up and leave around us, Sherlock stays put.

"Sherlock, aren't you going to class?"

"I'm skipping this period."

"Why? It's the first day."

"I know."

"But-"

"Care to join me?"

"Sure." I say quickly, not giving my brain a chance to think it through.

He suddenly grabs my hand and whispers, "Follow me."

We run through the lunch room doors and outside onto the basketball courts. We run around the side of the school building until we find ourselves in a dark alleyway between the high school and middle school buildings. There's a fence blocking our way to the main road, and I can see the buses parked along the curb. I'm out of breath, and I let go of his hand and slide to the ground. He sits down next to me.

'His hand was so warm…'

I resist the strong urge to lay my head down on his shoulder, and just sit with my head against the wall.

"Aren't we going to get caught?"

"No."

"How did you know where to go? Isn't this your first day here?"

"Yes, but I figured out the school layout as soon as I got here this morning."

"Are you a genius or something?" I ask.

He laughs. "No. I just deduce things about everything and everyone-"

"Like you did with me a couple minutes ago? By the way, how did you do that?"

"It was very simple really; the subjects of the schoolbooks you were carrying were junior material, which let me know what grade you are in. You are wearing a rugby sports jacket- a fairly obvious sign that you play the sport- but only captains have the accented red color on the emblem and buttons; regular players have blue."

"How did you know I'm single?"

"Easy really; during lunch you chose to sit alone- and then with me- instead of sitting with a girlfriend. She could have been absent today, but single is more likely-"

"You keep saying 'she'."

"Oh." Sherlock immediately stops talking and turns away from me. "So, you've got a boyfriend then," he continues.

"No, I don't." I answer.

"Ah." Sherlock doesn't say another word, and instead pulls a cigarette from his pocket.

"Sherlock, you smoke?"

"Yes." He quickly lights it, and sends a puff of smoke into the air shortly afterwards.

"Sherlock… Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend, no. Not really my area."

"Do you have a boyfriend? Which is fine, by the way-"

"I know it's fine."

"Right. Ok. So you're unattached, like me. Good."

We are so close, I can feel his body heat. My heart begins to beat faster and faster until I can't take it anymore. I exhale shakily, and Sherlock notices.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes.. I'm fine."

"Ok."

"Sherlock… What's your next class?"

"Chemistry. Why?"

"I have chemistry!"

"You… do?"

"Yep! We should be getting back now… I don't want to get in trouble."

"Alright." He stands back up, offering me his hand to help me up as well. I realize that I am blushing as he takes my hand. 'I don't want him to let go…' I think. I look down at our hands linked together and smile. Sherlock bites his lip and looks away from me.

"John… I…" Sherlock quickly lets go of my hand and sprints off in the direction of the school.

"Sherlock!" I yell, but it's too late.

He's gone.