Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Go Together: Chapter One
I fucking hate school.
And not the way everyone else does, because honestly? I couldn't care less about my grades, or homework. The hours kind of bother me, but that's a universal complaint.
No, what really bothers me, is teachers. They think that just because they get to stand at the front of the room and yap on and on about something no one is ever going to use later in life, that they're some sort of god. They think that whoever steps foot into their territory is automatically under they're complete control. They think that just because someone doesn't give a rat's ass (like myself) that person "needs their help".
My math teacher, for example. Not that Mr. Allen is a bad guy, per say, he is just so fucking controlling. Every detail has to be right with him. I even watched a chick get detention from him because she put her name in the left corner of her paper instead of the right. Something about "failing to follow direction" or some other bullcrap.
Another thing that bothers me about Mr. Allen: he gives us new assigned seats at the beginning of every month.
I mean, why can't he be like a normal teacher and leave us alone until the next semester? Or at least until we fuck it up for ourselves? But, no. "Change is good" he says "It'll keep you out of trouble" he says "Paul-I see you sleeping!" he says.
So, now that it's the beginning of May, we get moved around one last time until we graduate and I can leave this hell-hole.
Mr. Allen's drone seemed to add to the tension as we all waited to see who we would be spending the next month with on the double seated tables. There were three rows of tables: four to the right, four in the center, and four to the left. Normally, I wouldn't really care who I sat next to, but in this class it was different. You see, there are twenty-four seats, and only twenty-three students. Every month, some lucky sucker would get a whole table to themselves. This time, I really hope it's me; especially since Mr. Allen tends to put that person in the back of the room.
"...Jared Cameron, and Marty Ricker..." I cringed and gave Jared an apologetic look. Poor douche got stuck with Ricker the Picker. At least he's in the third row to the left; that side as windows. Mr. Allen moved to the very back table on the left. "...Paul Lahote..." fuck, please put me alone! "...and Maggie Dove." Shit.
At least I got a good seat. Not the window, but whatever. Who was Maggie Dove, anyway? I'd never even met the chick, or seen her for that matter, but I've heard her name while taking role in class; so I know she's not new.
Come to think about it, I think we used to share her goldfish during lunch in kindergarten...
I moved to take my seat, setting my backpack down beside me. A moment or so later, I could hear her moving behind me to take her own seat. The sent of ginseng and something like the old, dusty books my grandma used to keep in a box flooded my nose as she set down her own bag. I didn't even glance at her, instead choosing to stare at the blank board at the front of the room.
"Now socialize for a few. Get to know the person you'll be spending the rest of your high school career with!" Mr. Allen said as the last person was in their seat. I glared at the asshole who sat alone at the very back of the right side of the room.
I looked back up at the board and waited for the girl next to me to strike up a conversation. (What? I'm not lazy, I'm just not a people person.)
Nothing.
I waited for about another three minutes or so before becoming both curious and irritated, and turning to look at the individual next to me.
My stomach twisted uncomfortably as the gravity changed about me, turning and coming to face the small, delicate creature before me. Her russet skin was flawless, save for the beauty mark below her right eye. But the mark only made her even more lovely, and drew more attention to her soft, brown eyes, framed with dark, thick lashes. Her pitch-black hair ran down her back in thick, wavy locks, and her squared off bangs had obviously not been trimmed in a while, and nearly covered her eyes. She was thin and small, and hunched over herself ever-so-slightly. Her light blue, long sleeved shirt was a couple sizes too big, and she clutched her elbows in a shy way, her head tipped down.
She turned towards me, and, upon seeing me staring back at her, snapped her eyes back to the front of the room and bit her plump, oh-so-tempting lower lip as a blush colored her cheeks. I smiled at her bashfulness. Now that she was aware of me watching her, she seemed to tense up even more-to curl in on herself ever so slightly.
Say something, moron.
"I'm Paul."
She seemed to hesitate for a moment, before stuttering "M-Maggie."
At her compliance, I eagerly stuck out my right hand. Surprised by the quick motion, Maggie flinched back. She stared at my hand for a minute or so, then looked into my eyes. God, what fucking beautiful eyes. Like some sort of deep pool of warmth and life. I could just stare at them until I died of starvation or some other shit. While I was lost in hr gaze, she moved slowly and slipped her petite hand into my own. It took a lot of strength not to close my eyes and moan at the feel of her skin on mine, and a new kind of uncomfortable washed over me when I had to let go.
Mr. Allen started the class soon after, and I spent the rest of the period watching Maggie out of the corner of my eye. Eventually, the bell rang signaling the fact that it was time to move our asses to out next class. My heart dropped slightly as I watched her gather her things and leave me in the math room, but I was just fine with observing the conservative way she walked and gulping in her sent as she passed me.
Oh God, I'm in love.
…...Oh God I've imprinted!
….Fuck!