AN: Hi everyone! A lot of you have been waiting for this for quite some time now. So here it is, I am glad to present to you my newest story! It is very personal to me; I am partly basing it off of my life, so a lot of the things you read have actually occurred. That being said, I'm having a lot of fun reflecting on the real and creating the new. Enjoy the story!

You may call me a dreamer…

But I'm not the only one.

Emily's POV

Hands shaking. Palms sweaty.

I cannot fathom that it's already here. High school goes by in the blink of an eye. And here I am; first day of senior year. My schedule sits on my desk, just like everyone else's; it's all too familiar. First mod and I have Mr. Zachary, the trig teacher. Everyone loves him but he seems kind of sloppy to me. I picked my nail and eyed everyone. I'm the only senior in a class full of juniors. Taking honors was a risk, and almost an embarrassment. Awkward doesn't even begin to describe how it feels to be in a class that juniors are taking. The worst part is I don't know anyone, and I feel out of place. I take another look at my schedule, just to double check.

Yep. English next. Room 411. I'd be able to talk to Paige.

English had my stomach in knots. My particular reverence for the tall, brown haired, angular faced type was undeniable. Older woman had never caught my eyes before, but getting over Maya this past summer had me falling under spells. The particular celebrities that held my fancies were of these features, and slightly older. That's where it all started. I was aware of the general looks of Ms. Hastings, the twelfth grade English teacher. She never exactly stood out to me, but that was before last summer. Now, I'm terrified of what my heart might decide upon walking into that classroom.

My heart beat erratically as I got closer. Checking the number on the door before going in, I took a deep breath. Paige sat in the second to last seat of the first column. An uncontrollable smile swept across my face as I greeted my friend for the first time this school year. I took the last seat in the row, right behind her, and she turned around to blind me with her first day jitters.

The teacher sat patiently as the bell rang, waiting for everyone to quiet down. She cleared her throat and finally addressed the class.

"Quiet down now…Welcome to British Literature. I'm Ms. Hastings." She pursed her lips and studied the ground for a moment. All the fears in my head dissipated. Her hair was pulled back with a single whisk hanging in her eye. She read through attendance, putting names to faces. She profusely apologized for her terrible memory, joking saying she'd have everyone's names memorized by the end of the year. I smiled and I'm not really sure why. She simply had an odd charm to her.

I looked over the syllabus she handed out. It was extensive, and I raised my eyebrows upon noticing that she seemed strict. She briefly discussed some of her main rules. At the top of the page she had typed "I have the right to give students zeroes." She also indicated that there would be multiple quizzes a week. Why was it always the English teachers?

She then stood up to write something on the chalkboard. I immediately noticed the grace with which she walked, light on her feet. She was wearing peach flats and a blue speckled scarf was draped over her shoulders, covering her collar bone, like you would wear a blanket.

I studied her face, trying to grasp how old she was. She seemed rather young. She was impeccably thin, but not unhealthy. In fact, she looked very fit.

I can't like her. I can't let myself fall. Not with somebody who was completely out of reach, not for something hopeless.

Spencer's POV

My second mod class slowly started to trickle in. Most of them found a seat near the back, some of them stood shifting their weight, wondering if I had assigned seats. As the bell rang, they all found a seat, slowly letting the chatter cease, and all eyes fell on me. I smiled lightly and welcomed my class. I had high hopes for this group; second mod has consistently been my best mod year after year. The students were already awake, unlike first mod, but not bored yet, like fifth mod.

I adjusted my scarf and looked at the sea of faces. Some looked back at me expectantly, others were glancing around the room. I picked up my folder and started rolling off the names.

"Victor."

He sat in the very back, towering over the kids sitting around him. His hair was full of wild curls, and he sounded like a drunk.

I moved down the list. Mike Montgomery. I hesitated at his name. Montgomery. He raised his hand and I saw her. I forgot that her younger brother was still in high school. I shook my head and moved on. Alexa sat right next to him, and they were obviously together. They smiled at each other all giddy.

"Emily."

"Here."

I followed the sound of the voice and my eyes met with dark eyes. She sat in the back corner and timidly smiled at me. Her hair was enviable. I returned her smile but couldn't take my eyes off of her. Her olive skin was perfectly smooth.

I hesitated a little too long. I cleared my throat and looked back down at my folder.

When I got everyone's name I asked a boy to pass out my syllabus and sat quietly, waiting for everyone to get a copy. It got very loud very quickly, most of the noise came from Mike. He was rambunctious, with his hair shorn on the sides and slightly spiked on top. I could hear his laugh come out over everyone else's, but it was all just white noise to me.

Emily's POV

Sweat trickled down my forehead and forced its way into the corner of my eye. Fire burned and I squeezed my eye shut. My legs burned with each pounding of pavement. The last set of sprints is always the hardest. Fatigue ran through my muscle fibers and a determined burst of energy coursed through my veins to finish strong.

Coach called us to a stop and heavy panting filled my ears. I struggled with my own breathing; while I may look fit, running, for whatever reason, is always a struggle for me. When I have something to distract me, like a soccer ball, it's easier.

She was to my left, the object of my fantasies since the eighth grade. Notice the fantasies part, because she's straight as an arrow. However, she hasn't ever dated a guy and has turned down every guy who has ever asked, which is a lot because she's freaking gorgeous. Smells fishy to me, but whatever. She caught my gaze and sent a smile as well as a chill up my sweaty spine. Five years she has attracted me, but I have realized it will never happen and there's been enough time for the pain of that realization to relinquish.

We were dismissed and she caught my elbow on the way out.

"Em, hey!"

I turned towards her and smiled politely.

"What's up Ali?"

"How was your first day?" she kept her hand on my elbow, as if I was going to run away, and my stomach got baby butterflies. Almost everything about her contrasted my recent crushes. Blonde hair, bubbly, raging popularity. My thoughts fleeted to Ms. Hastings. How could I love two totally different people? And why were they both out of reach?

Well, I don't love two completely different people, because I don't love Ms. Hastings. At least not yet. I will try everything in my right mind to avoid that.

"It was typical." I shrugged.

Five long years. How captivating she is. Even when I dated Maya, I never stopped loving her. I loved Maya too, honestly, and it truly hurt when she broke my heart, but Ali was always ever-present.

"Any hot teachers?" She smirked – as if she knew. My stomach dropped and I bit my cheek in hopes it would prevent a give-away facial expression. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about the blush. Thank god for dark skin.

Sadly, I couldn't even formulate a response.

"Relax." She chuckled at my reaction and let go of my elbow.

"Well, I should really go…homework."

"On the first day?" She scrunched her eyebrows. Way to go, awkward side of me, you're great at this.

"Silly stuff." I managed, and then waved and rushed to my car. I sat still for a moment before turning the engine on. My heartbeat slowly came to a quiet lull.

That evening I found myself taking refuge in Paige's house. As I cautiously walked up the steps of her front porch, her parents opened up the door and stepped out, spiffily dressed up. Mrs. McCullers smiled warmly at me and held the door open for me whilst letting me know that Paige was in her room.

The door was slightly cracked so I knocked lightly before letting myself in. She had headphones in, so I took a few more steps forward to get her attention. There's no possible way I could do this without scaring her. She jumped when she finally saw me and took her buds out.

"Hey! How was soccer?" She smiled at me and slapped a spot on the bed for me to sit.

"Same old. How was tennis?" We shared most of our classes, thankfully. The last few years we would go the whole school day without seeing each other, and we would be deprived of each other's company by the end of the day. This was never a good thing.

"Same old. Gosh, I can't believe it's our senior year!" She squealed.

AN: if there is anything you don't like or anything you wish to see, please let me know! If you don't like the flip-flopping back and forth of viewpoints, that is easily fixable :)