"Hello and welcome back to school broncos! And if you're a freshman, then we welcome you, class of 2011! Let's make this another great school year. Let's try and keep all of our football stars alive, all our druggies in hiding and out of jail, and all of our horny bastards under control (we don't want mommies running through these halls!)" were the words of my utterly astonishing principal, Mr. Jacobs. Mr. Jacobs was most definitely unique; he had a way with us, the students. He always managed to turn horrible crises into comical jokes.

"Is it just me, or do the announcements get longer each year?" I said to the guy next to me. He turned, giving me a cold stare, but said nothing. "So have you heard anything about this class? I hear it's supposed to be easy." He managed to shrug his shoulders. In astonishment at his cold disposition, I turned back to face my computer.

After sitting through an utterly silent room for an hour, I rushed out and turned around the corner as soon as the bell had rung. That class had to be the most life-sucking class I'd ever been in. The most expression I got out of anyone was a shrug of the shoulders. The loudest sound was the hitting of fingers to the keys on the keyboards. Oh what a dull first period that will be, I thought.

I sighed and brushed my hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. I tried to muddle through the overly crowded halls, being pushed back and forth between the incredibly tall football players towering over me. It's like I was a ball being passed back and forth, except that no one noticed. Suddenly, I looked ahead and saw a break in the crowd, I quickly shuffled between two gossiping girls, who glared at my "rudeness," and then realized that I was not the only one who noticed this advantageous situation. A tall, boy, about 6'2" or 6'3" with dark brown hair, turned his remarkably pale face to stare at me with brilliant blue eyes. Looking at him head-on, I noticed his flawless bone structure and prominently set chin, both of which seemed incredulously insignificant when I made my way up to his eyes. Beautiful, they were, but they were filled with shock and confusion. Taken aback, sure there must be some misunderstanding, I shot a quick, sheepish smile in his direction and turned to stare at the back of the head in front of me.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally made my way to E-hall and sat myself into the first empty seat I found in the room. I started to pull my notebook out of my book-bag, when a clearing of a throat diverted my attention to the seat behind me. I looked up, only to see those brilliant blue eyes fixated on the blank board. My face turned red as I turned back to my desk, completely embarrassed and unsure as to how I should react, but I was most definitely sure that Emily Post didn't cover awkwardness-101…or did she? My thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice, "Lauren? I don't believe it, of course you had to be in my math class; not my history class," he said with a hint of disappointment.

I let out a sigh with my returning smile, "Lawrence," I said with an affirmative nod. Before our calm casualties could continue, a shrieking girl with curly black hair pinned up into a ponytail and sealed with a red ribbon repeated my action, but with extreme enthusiasm and wide, flailing arms flying in his direction. I let out a laugh, "Good luck," I wished him. He peeled his eyes from the girl, just feet away, and gave me an appreciative expression before opening his arms and embracing the bouncy girl.

Inside, I let out a little chuckle of amusement and approval; with this "Alex"—the shrieking girl—occupying Lawrence's attention and being an utter nuisance, I would be able to focus on the 

mathematics, knowing that Lawrence's daily annoyance quota was fulfilled. Seeing my reaction and deciding to act on it, Mr. Brilliant Blue Eyes commented, "Friend of yours?" with a half-smile.

I turned my head, shocked we were speaking. "You could say that, I suppose." He raised an eyebrow at my vague reply, "We're friends, but not in the traditional sense of the world." He now raised the other eyebrow to be a full-out confused, but interested, face. I sighed, "We do care about each other, but we love to annoy one another; we act more like siblings than friends."

"Ah…siblings? No more? I suspected a little…repression…or tension….in the air…has it always been this way, or is this a new thing?"

My eyes must have bugged at his bluntness. "Yes it has always been this way, except that we have become somewhat closer and more caring—well under it all—but no it has never—and will never—be like that." The confusion left his face and was now replaced by remorse for ever asking. I did a double-back, shocked at my own harshness. "Oh, sorry, it's not you or the question that really bother me…it's just the frequency of the question…but still, I shouldn't have reacted like that, I'm sorry."

"It's fine; we all have our touchy subjects."

"And what are your touchy subjects, now that you know mine?"

He let out a chuckle, "Wow, we sure are getting down to the root of things, aren't we? Wouldn't you rather start with the basics, like my name, for example?"

I could feel the blood rush to my face in humiliation at my own social awkwardness and stupidity. I wiped it from my face after a moment or two, and replaced it with a grin as I stuck out my hand, "Lauren…Masen, you?"

He chuckled, but accepted my hand and firmly shook it, "Ben," he paused twice as long as I had, "…Saxton, and it's a pleasure to finally be introduced."

Before our casualties could prevail, the teacher interrupted us with an explanation about the class, what was to be expected, and what materials we would need. After what seemed like hours, the bell rang and I stood up, Ben rose shortly after, with a sigh. I turned to see if it was because of impatience, but it was more relief, completed with that same slight smile. "First days, huh?"

I allowed the annoyance to shine in my voice, though my eyes were humorous, "Yeah, always the same dull introduction, even for math—a class where no words are really necessary—well, except for final papers…"

"Those are the worst," he agreed, "not that I mind writing and literature, but I find it inappropriate in a mathematics class." I simply nodded my head, totally in agreement. "And there are all of those first impressions, as well," he said, waiting for my response.

"Oh yes, those," I said with a wrinkle of my nose.

"You don't like them?"

"Depends," I said, shrugging my shoulders.



"On?"

"Who it is you're meeting and whether that first impression is good or bad."

"And what is your first impression of me?" He said, and I could hear the suppression of a smile in his voice.

I turned my face up to meet his smoldering eyes, sparkling with amusement. "Well, that's a hard one…I haven't really had time to process it," despite my silence, he seemed eager enough to wait for the answer, "But, so far, you seem like an…interesting person."

"Interesting," he seemed to mulling the word over in his head, "I'll take it," he said with an approving smile at my assessment. After a few more moments of standing there, staring into his sparkling eyes, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the classroom was starting to empty, he seemed to notice my wandering eyes, and spoke my exact thoughts, "I think we'd better get to class, we don't want to give our teachers a bad first impression of us." Although I knew that I probably shouldn't notice or care, I couldn't help but smile at his grouping. He turned to walk, but after a few steps he turned towards me, "Aren't you coming? Where's your next class?"

"A-hall, I have Spanish," I said, still unmoving.

"Same here," and with a simple gesture of his hand, I was moving towards him and then with him, and we seemed to be gliding, but at a slow pace, towards the other end of the school. "So what level are you; two or three?"

"Four actually," and I could see him raise an eyebrow, "I took one in middle school, and I could have taken AP this year, but I opted not to," and at that he raised the other eyebrow, forming an all-out curious expression.

"Perhaps another time," he spoke with closure, and I noticed that I was standing outside of my classroom.

"Sure," I said with a quick smile, and although it seemed awkward, I couldn't help but add, "Thanks," and a grateful smile afterwards.

"For?" he said, completely oblivious.

"Walking me to class."

"Lauren," and at that my heart sputtered; the way he pronounced it was so…so, indescribable, "I was going this way anyways, you know? And a 'thanks' really isn't necessary, hardly appropriate." At that I was speechless, I gave a quick, sheepish smile, and turned my back towards him, walking into the classroom, just as I felt the blood rush to my face. "Oh, I didn't mean—" but he was cut-off by the Spanish teacher's furious gaze. Even though the bell had yet to ring, everyone was already seated in their seats, full attention towards the board, copying down the immaculate number of phrases, ready to be translated. I quickly slid into the last available seat, giving no notice to the teacher's glare at me, or the swishing of her dress as she flew to the door, closing it. I quickly absorbed myself into the translations.