Ana's POV
My alarm goes off, blaring some stupid dubstep bullshit on the radio. God, I hate dubstep, when did that start to be considered music? Its 7am. I haven't gotten up this early all summer. The first day of school is always my favorite day though. Its a brand new year, starting fresh, and I haven't been surrounded by intolerable, sycophants for the past 2 months. I'm also really excited because I managed to weasel my way into Advanced English this year. Normally, being a sophomore I wouldn't be allowed to take it. Its a class for Juniors and Seniors, but English is like breathing to me, its so much a part of me that I don't even have to think about it. British literature is really my thing. And with Kate being the tenacious, powerhouse that she is, she managed to get us into the class. I was a little hesitant at first. I had so many people tell me how awful the teacher was. Apparently she was a crazy alcoholic, and was never there, and when she was, she would show up to class with a raging hangover, or a water bottle of vodka, or both. But the school board finally found out, so this year there will be a new teacher. I don't know anything about him/her. But as long as they can give me a good education, thats all I care about. Well, as good as you can get in a public high school.
45 minutes later I am showered, dressed, and look relatively presentable for my first day of sophomore year. The first day of school is also picture day, so I tried to make a little extra effort. I wore my only skirt. It's short, flowy, and floral. I'm wearing my most flattering white shirt that has lace ¾ length sleeves, and sort of hugs my body and look like i have some kind of a shape. I put on some cream colored over the knee socks, and finally my go-to brown ankle boots and a jean jacket. I decide to leave my hair down, its wavy from my shower earlier. As for make-up, not my thing. I never really understood makeup, the whole idea sort of intimidates me. Kate has offered to school me countless times, but quite frankly, I have very little interest in painting my face with powder and weird marker pens. I go downstairs and Ray is drinking what i assume to be his 3rd or 4th cup of black coffee and watching the morning news. Apparently there is a huge storm expected within the next couple days. Maybe we'll get the day off! Wow, thats a bad sign, I haven't even walked into my first class and already I'm wishing school away. Well, I guess like any other 16 year old who has to go back to school.
"Hey dad, have you seen my bag? The bus is gonna be here any second!" Ray looks over and gives me a secret smile.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you Anni, I have a surprise for you." Ray disappears into the kitchen for a moment and when he comes back, he hands me the keys to my Mom's old beetle. It hasn't been driven in forever. Not since my mom and Ray broke up a couple years ago. But Ray assures me that he had it checked out, and serviced, and that it should be fine.
"Anni, I know how much you hate taking that smelly old bus to school, and now that you have your license, i don't see any reason why you shouldn't be able to drive it. After all. I know you're going to be careful and responsible with it. Right?"
"Y-Yes dad of course, thank you so much. This is awesome!" I give him a big hug. I can't believe i have a car. The beetle is old, but I always sort of had a soft spot for that car, I like its rustic, vintage vibe. Ray hands me my bag which was hiding behind the couch. I run out the door, start the car, and floor it to school.
I pull into the parking lot at exactly 8:00. I sprint to room 103, the advanced english room. I am 3 minutes late. I hate being late, it is not like me at all. When I run through the door, I trip over a loose shoe lace on my boot, and fall face first into the classroom, the contents of my bag spilling all over the floor. Including personal items that I would really not have sitting next to Zach Fieldman's foot. The amount of raging laughter is ear splitting, humiliating, and just downright unnecessary. I mean, okay, i get it, I am the most uncoordinated person in all of Seattle, but this is over the top. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through me, and all I want to do is run back out of the room. Well, maybe walk this time. I don't even want to lift my head, i just want to stay face down on the floor. All of a sudden I feel a soft warm hand lifting me up, helping me to my feet. When i look up I am staring into intense, sharp, beautiful, dark, steely grey eyes. They are the first thing I notice and I can not tear mine away from his. Then i notice his face, his body, his hair, his mouth? Why the hell am I staring at his mouth? And then it hits me. Holy shit, hes attractive. He doesn't look much older than me. My attention turns to our hands. Mine still in his, and the connection is, electric, and quite frankly, terrifying. When i look up, he is still looking at me with some kind of wondrous expression, like he's trying to solve some unknown puzzle. And as soon as i realize that the laughter has seized, i am instantly pulled back to reality as is he, and we quickly let go of each other. Holy cow, I hope that didn't look as weird as it felt, but when I look around the room, no one really seems to notice, they're either shooting spit balls, shoving their tongues down each other's throats, or they have there heads down on their desks. I then remember that all of my belongings are scattered all over the floor. I quickly stuff everything back inside, trying to conceal the sanitary items. Nervously I look up at the guy who helped me up, and he is still looking at me, i think i can see a tiny hint of amusement behind his stern expression, but his face is so intimidating that i quickly look away.
Once I have packed up everything, I stand again and say a quick thank you to the guy who helped me up and then quickly move past him not looking at him. I see Kate sitting in the front, she waves and pats the top of the desk next to her. Great. She is sitting in the front row. kate loves being front and center, me not so much. I'm more of a back corner type of girl, but maybe if i'm next to Kate it won't be so bad. I put my bag around the back of my chair and sit down at the desk next to her.
"Are you okay?" She asks, eyes wide in concern and amusement.
"I'm fine Kate, you know me. I can't put one foot in front of the other without falling." I wink at her. She laughs, she knows what a klutz I am. And I finally relax, and start to forget about my traumatic first 30 seconds of advanced english. I hope the rest of the year goes better than that. I take out a notebook, a pen, and finally sink into the back of my seat. But when I look up, I see the guy who helped me up walking over to the chalkboard at the front of the room, and write "Mr. Grey" in perfect handwriting on the board. Holy Shit, he's the teacher?!
"Good morning class, my name is Mr. Grey and I will be your new english teacher this year. I want to start off by saying I don't take any bullshit in my class." Everyone freezes when they hear the serious tone of his voice, and all of the girls around me lean in closer and gaze at him with their jaws hanging open, practically drooling. Everyone is very surprised by his no nonsense approach as soon as class begins. Me, i don't really care. I want to be in a class, and have a teacher who will challenge me. I think everyone else is here just to have it on their records, but me, I cannot wait to dive into this class. "I understand that you are one of those progressive schools where you call your teachers by their first names. That will not be the case in my classroom. You will address me as Mr. Grey, and I will address you by your last names as well." He looks over to me, and points. "You, stand." He orders in a tone that is quite dictatorial, its kind of freaky. I shakely rise to my feet, my legs feeling like jello.
"What is your name?" He asks quickly and sharply.
"A-Anastasia." I stutter. My mouth is dry and there is a huge lump in the back of my throat.
"Anastasia…" He lingers on my name, testing it out, but also clearly asking for my last name.
"Steele, sir." His eyes widen for some odd reason. Is my last name a surprise to him? I didn't think it was that weird. But maybe it has some significance for him.
"Thank you Ms. Steele, you may have a seat." I sit back down in my seat, feeling like i just took some kind of test. One just for me, and I'm not sure if I passed it or not.
"Does anyone have any questions before we begin?" He asks looking around the classroom. Briefly at me, and the word vomit comes up.
"What're you doing here?" I ask him without raising my hand, before I've even realized what I've said. Shit, I probably could've been a little more respectful about that. But what is he doing here? He seems so irritated to be here, like he is disgusted by the whole public school system. I have only known this guy for about 2 minutes but it seems like he could do better than a shitpit like this, he could teach at a college or a private school, but here? I just dont get it. If he doesn't wanna be here, then why is he?
"Excuse me Ms. Steele?" He says taking one step towards me. He has a deep scowl on his face.
"I-I'm sorry Mr. Grey, that was a dumb question."
"Well, why ask it then?" He walks over to me, putting his hands on my desk and staring down at me, and I am floored. What is with this guy? Why does he feel the need to scare the shit out of me?
"Just curious Mr. Grey." I say staring down at my fingers, chipping away old nail polish.
"There are more interesting things for you to be curious about Ms. Steele." He says with a kind of menacing undertone. Like he's trying to tell me something else. And after he leaves me with that lingering thought, he steps away, and begins his lesson.
