I'm late.

Crap.

"This is the second time Ms. Coyne." Ms. Richards says as I slip into the English classroom.

I wince at the realisation, "I know, I'm really sorry, I was-"

She holds her hands up stopping me, "I don't care. Sit down." She gestures to the last seat left in the classroom.

I sigh, tucking a black curl behind my ear as I seat myself into the back. I've never been fond of English class, but I know if I want to go to the University of my preference after high school I have to start working my ass off. Ms. Richards begins talking again, I pull my favourite notebook out of my bag and begin taking notes. Like I said, I'm getting serious this semester.

Or at least I want to...It'd be a whole lot easier if she actually gave some life to the class instead of dragging it on like this. Honestly, it sounds as if she wants to be here as much as I do. I rest my head in my hand, propping my elbow up on the table. A few seats away from me I notice Mike Dallas, his eyes flicker to me and when he catches mine he winks. I don't bother suppressing my eyeroll.

He's vile.

Thank God this is my only class with him. Other than these seventy minutes, I only ever have to deal with him when we are at our lockers at the sametime. And that's not exactly difficult to avoid.

I turn my attention back to the teacher, she's announcing some sort of project that we're doing this semester. Great, another thing to add to the pile of work I already have.

"Okay, class, for this semester we're going to start off with partnering up for the class. With writing, you always want to have someone else's opinion on your work. So, I'll be pairing you all up to not only work on this first project together, but also you will be working together for the rest of the semester." She paces up and down aat the front of the classroom.

She looks so bored it's painful to watch. I could be a better English teacher and I'm close to tearing my hair out just thinking about the subject. Though I'm sure my opinion towards this all would be a lot more optimistic if I had been blssed with better past experiences.

But that's life for you. There's good, there's bad and there's-

"Fiona Coyne and Mike Dallas." Ms. Richards announces, placing a sheet of paper on my desk

"You've got to be kidding me."

Oh shit, I said that outloud. I feel the blood running to my cheeks as a murmur of laughter ripples through the classroom. Beside me Marisol snickers into her hand, "Smooth Fi."

"Uh, sorry." I mumble, tucking my head down low. The teacher ignores me as she continues to walk down the aisle, smacking sheets of paper with the criteria for the project on students desks with her dull words echoing throughout the room announcing everyone's English partners.

Marisol leans over to me, "I'm sure you can switch. Last year when I had Ms Adams, she was totally cool with kids switching partners and stuff. It was great."

"And why would she ever want to do that? It's not everyday a girl gets the privilege to have me as their English partner." Ladies and gentlemen, Mike Dallas.

I look up at him glaring, he's standing right in front of my desk that stupid smirk set on his full lips. "Trust me, it is the furthest thing from a privilege."

He narrows his eyes slightly but his lips are still turned up at the sides showing off his arrogance and obvious blindness to my utter distaste. "Face it Coyne, you want me." He chuckles.

I scoff. Is he serious right now? Honestly, I can't tell. "I have a girlfriend. G-I-R-L-F-R-I-E-N-D."

He shrugs, laughing still, "I'm just messin' with you, Coyne."

Roll my eyes ready to bite back at him but as I open my mouth to snap, the teacher interrupts me. "Mr Dallas, back to your seat. You'll have all the time in the world to talk to Ms Coyne after the class is over."

Dallas gives me one last look before sauntering off to his seat. What an ass. How he even gets girls in the first place is beyond me. I ignore him, focusing my attention on the teacher. It's better than any other option I have. Throughout the rest of the class I try to think of a good way to approach Ms Richards about switching partners. There is no way I'm going to be spending the rest of my semester having to endure him.

I swear the class drags on longer than usual today, but when the bell finally gives its loud hum, I'm more than grateful. I sweep my books back into my bag getting out of my seat. I don't head for the door like the rest of my peers, instead I opt for stepping over to Ms Richards desk where she's typing away at a worn out looking laptop.

I clear my throat somewhat awkwardly, attempting to get her attention. She just continues to type away. Great. I roll my eyes, "Ms Richards?"

She holds up her index finger at me, not bothering to respond with words for a moment as her fingers busy her at the keyboard. I just stand there, rocking back slowly on my feet. Perfect, with the way this is going I'll not only have Mike Dallas as my ENglish partner but I'll be late for my Chem class.

Finally, and I really mean finally, Ms Richards stops her typing looking up at me. "Yes Fiona?"

"I was just wondering about my English partner..." Even though I'd spent the majority of the class replaying this conversation in my head I hadn't thought it would come out so awkward and quiet sounding as it does now.

"What about your English partner?" She folds her hands together on her desk.

"I want to switch." I blurt out. Well so much quiet, as for the awkward part, that seems to still be hanging around.

Ms Richards raises her eyebrows looking surprised.

Really? It's Mike Dallas, how shocked can someone be that I want to switch?

"Switch? Why?" She glances down at her list of partners, she's shaking her head before I can even speak again. "I put you and Mike together for a reason Fiona, I think you would work as partners."

I sigh, "Please, Ms Richards, I'll do extra work. I'll-"

She shakes her head some more, "I'm sorry Fiona, but sometimes things don't always work in your favour."

"But-"

"Enough." She holds up her hand. "Now, I suggest you head to your next class."

I hold back a sneer, as I turn sharply storming out of the room.

And I honestly thought this class couldn't get worse.

Mike Dallas, you've proved me wrong.

"Hey, princess." Oh go away.

Dallas slips next to me, matching my quick steps with his long leisure strides. "Why you trying to switch?"

"You heard that?" I keep my head straight.

"Yeah. I was choked," he nudges my shoulder playfully with his, "And here I thought we were besties."

"Listen, I have chemistry-"

"With me." He jokes.

I skid to a stop, flicking back a lock of hair. "I wanted to switch partners because not only do I want an actual decent grade in that class, but I rather not spend my semester paired up with a douche homophobe." The words come out harsher than intend them to, and I can tell they bite by the look on his face.

"You think I'm a homophobe?"

I shrug, "You've given me no reason to believe otherwise."

"I'm not homophobic, Fiona." He looks sincere.

I sigh heavily, and maybe a touch on the dramatic side. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm not. I am a little miffed that girl who looks like you isn't into guys, however, that doesn't make me a homophobe." He smirks, "Just jealous."

"Okay." I say slowly, "I've got to go, I have chemistry. Which I'm already late for. I'll see you around." Without another word shared between the two over us, I turn and continue my path down the hall. I'm able to get into Chem without being noticed of my tardiness by the teacher which lightens my mood only a fracture. I'm glad this is my last class of the day. After this I can just spend the rest of my time with Imogen.

Ugh, I am so swoony for the girl it's ridiculous. Have I really gotten to that point? The honeymoon phase is what I believe it's called. Well, at least I'm enjoying it.

I focus, and take notes in Chem unlike my English class, I actually do enjoy the science. It has rules, I like that. I can actually understand it, and the teacher actually seems to be somewhat interested in the teaching of the subject as well. So you can bet that's a plus.

Even still, despite my enjoyment I am ecstatic when the final bell rings. I slide quickly out of my chair. Handing in the work I'd finish thoroughly yet quickly during the last sevetnly minutes of the day and sweep out of the classroom. My eyes search the hallway for Imogen as I make my way to my locker.

Nowhere in sight.

Don't be a static cling monster, Fi. I remind myself, as I reach my locker. However my mood takes another hit when I see the usual crowd of dumb, boisterous jocks swimming around it. And now, not only are they all boisterous, dumb jocks, but since roughly two hours ago one of them has been named my English partner. I can feel my face souring at the thought.

I keep my head high, and shoulders back as I twist the lock of my locker, the last thing I need is for them to think they have any negative effect on me.

Even if they kinda do...

"Hey, princess, what are you doing after school?" Dallas leans beside my locker.

I rip the door open almost hitting him inthe face with it. I'd probably feel bad if he wasn't so Goddamn annoying. He simply stays unphased, moving out of the way to face again. He looks at mehis eyebrows raised.

Oh, right. He asked me a question.

"I'm hanging out with my girlfriend, Imogen." I strongly emphasize the word girlfriend.

And as if on cue Imogen pops around the corner, I feel my heartbeat quicken. "Hey." I shoot her a wide smile, completely ignoring the fact that Dallas is still in fact there.

She steps up to my locker tentatively, giving the hockey boys a wary glance. "Hi..."

"We're still heading to the Dot afterschool, right?" I put some books back into my locker.

I turn back to her watching as an apologetic look spreads across her face. Her eyes give away her answer before she eeven starts to speak. "Actually, Fi, I've got band rehearsal. I'm really sorry. Raincheck?"

I try to shrug it off, "Sure, yeah of course. I'll see you tomorrow then?"
She smiles nodding, "Yeah, of course." She gives the hockey boys another cautious look before turning and leaving.

I watch her scurry away before sighing, shutting my locker door. "Oh. You're still here." I grumble when I notice Dallas still leaning against his locker next to me.

"Looks as if you're pretty free now." He grins with amusement.

"Yeah, not free enough for you." I hike my bag further up my shoulder and turn to leave.

Dallas stops me, his hand finding my elbow. "Ah, ah. Hold up, princess."

I whip around. "What?" I snap, "Is 'princess' thing going to be a long term thing? Cause it's really not doing it for me."

The grin stretches even broader across his lips, "It wasn't, but now I think I won't be able to resist."

I fold my arms over my chest, "What do you want?"

He reaches into his bag pulling out a sheet of paper, it's crumpled slightly as he unfolds it, then holds it out to me. I don't take it, instead just look it over in his hands. It's the criteria outline for our English assignment.

"Yes, we have an English assignment. Good work neanderthal."

He rolls his eyes as a few other hockey jocks snicker at my comment. "It's due in a week and a half. We should get started on it."

"Today?" I raise my eyes.

"Considering your 'plans' just cancelled on you and I don't have hockey practice. Yeah, today." He gives me a once over. "Drew's Mom is picking me up, you want a ride."

"To your house?"

He shrugs, "Technically, it's my host family's house. I'm only boarding there."

I blink, I don't really have an appropriate excuse to say no other than the obvious 'I prefer not to hang out with a douche' excuse. So, to my utter demise, I oblige.

"Fine."

He smirks, throwing his bag over his shoulder and gestures for me to move forward. "Shall we? Ladies first."

I suppress a groan as I begin to walk. I hear a few catcalls from the boys behind us, I glance over my shoulder at them.

"Lesbian!" I remind them loudly as we make our way down the hall.