Chapter One
My eyes snapped open and I sat bolt upright. What a nightmare, I thought shacking my head. Lately I had been having horrific dreams. I woke up nearly every morning doused in sweat and out a breath. I gingerly slid to the side of my bed and sat there a moment staring blankly at the wall. Maybe this is why I'm always late, I thought absently, I take too long to do simple tasks. I pushed the bizarre dream from my mind and finally got up and slowly walked to my mirror. I'm really sore today, I thought with annoyance and worry, but I pushed that too, from my mind.
I knew I slept in; I always found a way to be late despite my best efforts at punctuality. I took a deep breath, scared to see how bad my skin looked. I knew bruises covered my arms and stomach but wasn't sure about the rest of my body. I glanced at the blue-black spots that speckled me like a Dalmatian. I was afraid someone would notice. That was when I saw the bruise along my left cheekbone. No, I thought, I can't have a bruise on my face! It will be too easy to see! I panicked for a moment then began to rummage through the numerous things that cluttered my dresser. People always say 'the thing you want to find is always in the last place you look.' Obviously, I thought, after you found it why would you keep looking?
'Yes!" I said, almost shouting as I found the compact I had been looking for. I quickly slapped my hands over my mouth. What was I thinking? My mom will probably still be asleep. I removed my hand from my mouth as a giant yawn washed over me. This isn't how you want to start a new school, I thought sighing. I then noticed I was shaking. The realization of this made it worst. I tired to comfort myself, but it was fruitless. I'm not afraid, I told myself, just… just a little worried.
This past summer, my previous school had been burned to the ground. The police called the group responsible "psychotically disturbed teenage arsonists." Because of that I was transferred to a school where, to my knowledge, none of my friends were attending.
I sighed again as I opened the compact and brushed the sponge quickly across the vile bruise. I winced at the slight pressure. Usually I tried to avoid getting my face marked; it was harder to cover, but this time I guess I had failed. I decided, as usual, to keep my hair down in yet another attempt to hide the loathsome bruise; I didn't was to arouse suspicion on my first day.
I dared a quick glance at my hair and dropped the compact. It is supposed to be long and straight, but it didn't seem to know that at the moment. To my horror it looked as if it had been electrocuted. I quickly began to comb through it with my fingers but with little success. My hair was the color my hairdresser, Janette, had called a dark chestnut. Despite her pleas I never let her dye it or cut more then an inch. I needed it long and dark.
After another rummaging, I found a brush and combed through my mass of 'hair' until I was more or less happy and it actually looked like hair. I threw the brush somewhere in a mass of clothes as I remembered I was in a rush. I knew I would regret that later when I had to look for it, but at the moment I needed to get dressed.
I pounced on the nearest pile of clothing and quickly shoved my legs through the holes of a pair of dark jeans. I then hunted down a long sleeved shirt that happened to be the closest, no use letting anyone see my arms. I ran to the mirror again to double check I was not wearing a skirt or tube top and once confirmered, I tiptoed to my mother's room. I opened the door slightly and peered inside to find her, to my relief, asleep. I carefully closed the door and went down the stairs, making sure not to wake her.
When I got down I went to check the time on our old clock. I stood there frozen not believing that was the actual time. Then I remembered that our clock had been late for ten years. Every time I tried to be early that clock said I was late; every time I was having a good time it told me that time was over; every time I was stuck doing something unpleasant it told me I still had another forty-five minutes. The clock hated me as much as I hated it. I made a mental note to put it to the correct time. That'll show you, I thought and quickly shuffled to the cupboards where I grabbed a couple of granola bars for my breakfast. I then hurried to the coffeemaker. I made coffee for my mother every morning in hopes it would help her hangovers. If it didn't help, she at least appreciated the gesture. That's what I liked to tell myself at least. I poured the water and cheap coffee grinds into the machine and set it to percolate in three hours. She would be up by then, I hoped. As I rushed to the door I wondered why she didn't buy a better brand.
I was happy and enormously relieved I had packed my bag the night before as I saw it by the door waiting loyally for me along with a sweater. After hastily pulling on my shoes I left hurriedly. I had a mandatory five-mile walk ahead of me, as I had no car. An hour later I slowed my jog into a walk and sighed in relief as I spotted the school up ahead. I tried to catch my breath and prayed I wasn't sweating too badly.
I was soothed to see other students making their way to the rundown building. I wasn't as late as I had first thought. The parking lot was filled with a mix of vintage, sport and shabby cars, trucks and vans. I wondered briefly if maybe it wouldn't be as out of place as I had first expected. At my old school mostly everyone had be rich and snobby with the most expensive and luxurious everything. A glimmer of hope lit up inside of me at the thought of fitting in.
Once inside I began frantically searching for to front office. Five minutes later after asking numerous unhelpful people, and walking by it twice, I found my way to the front desk. The secretary was a middle-aged woman with blonde hair and a slightly exasperated expression. At the sight of me she looked a little relieved, but also worried.
"Hi, I'm Amy." I said timidly, realizing that unlike the secretary at my old school, she did not know me. This school also had roughly two or three times more students.
"Amy… Lewis?" She asked, looking at her papers.
"Ya, um… sorry I'm late, I slept in this morning." I said apologizing. I realized this was in vain as she didn't appear to have been listening.
"This is Vicky, she will been showing you around today," she said, gesturing to a girl beside her I hadn't noticed. She looked apologetically at me then quickly went back to her work dismissing both Vicky and me. I was about to thank her, but realized again, it was probably a waste of breath.
"I'm Vicky!" said the perky bleached blonde lunging toward me and wrapping her arms around me. I tried unsuccessful to smile as she crushed me with her too big obviously fake boobs and drown me in a pool of immensely strong perfume. When she stepped back I noticed she wore and thick mask of makeup. I hardly ever wore any accept the mandatory cover-up. I was momentarily astounded to see that she was wearing the exactly the same outfit I had been in my dream. I shuddered at the dreadful memory. "I bet we will be best friends!" she gushed, smiling as she led me down a hallway. I severely doubted that, but held my tongue. "I'm so excited! I checked your schedule," she said as she thrust it towards me as we stopped in front of a large door, "we have three classes together today!" She then led me into a room and presented me to an older man in a gray suit with brownish-gray hair. I vaguely wondered what subject he taught.
"This is Amy!" Vicky said enthusiastically, shoving me towards the stranger. Man, she was physical.
"Ah. Excellent. Welcome to my English class Amy. I am Mr. Kenmorr. Sit anywhere you would like." He said, smiling as he extended his arm to the empty desks before him. Vicky hesitated then led me to the back-center of the class. His lips twitched and smile faltered slightly when we sat in the back row instead of up front. I promised myself I would next time. He seemed like a nice man.
As in turned out 'earliness' was not in style in this school as several students walked in talking loudly only seconds before the bell to signal the commencing of classes rang, and several more entered minutes after. Mr. Kenmorr sighed as he began to talk about all the things they were to study this year, but I couldn't seem to make sense of what he was saying. Most of the class continued talking, while Mr. Kenmorr spoke with an expression demonstrating that this was not out of the ordinary, but that he was beyond telling them off. The fifty-five minutes passed surprisingly fast and soon Vicky was rushing us to another class.
"Almost late Mrs. Layne!" said a mean looking older woman with pursed lips and a frown. I looked around and saw that the class half full. Then I glanced at the clock to find it had taken us about thirty seconds to get here. I began to open my mouth the point this out, but I never got the chance. "And what is this?" she spat glaring at me. I shrank away behind Vicky. Something about her leather mini-skirt, knee high boots and heavily makeup plastered face made me feel that she was not the same kind of teacher as Mr. Kenmorr.
"This… is Amy. It's her- she's knew" Vicky said timidly. I felt a flood of compassion for Vicky standing there in front of this horrible woman. Huh, maybe we would be friends after all, I thought bemused.
"Well, then. You," she pointed to me, "sit there to the left. Front row!" she spat pointing to the far left of the room. "Mrs. Layne you will sit here." She pointed to the same exact spot on the right. "Now girls, you will sit at you assigned seats from now on."
"Yes, Mrs. Joans" said Vicky flatly, looking sadly and regretfully at me. Mrs. Joans looked smug. The bell rang and hell-I mean class-began.
"Now that you are done being smart-alecs, we will see just how smart you really are. My math class is no joke. As I doubt any of you could do it on your own, you may work in partners… that I will choose. You may begin once you receive your paper." She passed out the papers and partnered the few students that made up her class. Both my and Vicky's face fell when I was paired up with a boy I did not know. This seemed to please Mrs. Joans, I noted with distaste. The boy pushed our desks together and gave me a smile I could not manage to return. I later found out the reason there are so few students attending her class is because she fails about half the class. Of the half that remained a minority decided to continue her course; the others quit and take it sometime else. After only minutes with her I believed it.
"Hi, I'm Jared," said the boy, still smiling.
"Amy." I mumbled. I pushed my hair in front of my face trying to conceal as much of it as I could. I didn't want him to notice the bruise along my left cheekbone. I was still astounded Vicky hadn't. I felt like it was written on my forehead, or as if there was a large sign pointing to it. I had just about figured out by then that Vicky wouldn't ever notice, it was not in her personality to notice things like that. I soon realized Jared probably wouldn't either. He was nice enough, but he was very vocal, he didn't notice things… he was too busy talking.
For the first few minutes I tired to pay attention to what he was saying, but it was like he was speaking another language. The harder I tried to follow the more difficult it became. Eventually I gave up, and began nodding my head every once in a while to pretend I was listening. I sat there forcing a smile, pretending to care about whatever it was he was babbling on about. I took this opportunity to examine him.
Jared was not the kind of guy I would notice in a hallway. He was handsome if you gave him a second glance, but not striking enough to get one. His hair was a light brown color and his skin very lightly tanned unlike the heavy fake tan Vicky sported. His eyes, I noticed, were a vivid, yellow-gold. They were his best feature I decided. Suddenly he laughed. Startled my fake smile fell and, I looked up.
"I said, maybe we should get to work before Mrs. Joans has a fit." Jared repeated. I guessed he didn't mind repeating; technically it was still a form of talking. I dared a glance at Mrs. Joans to find her glaring at me wit h a loathing expression. I looked down quickly, afraid to make eye contact.
"Yeah, maybe you're right." I said, trying to smile again, at least a little for his benefit. I discovered Jared was good in math and I was pleased to find Mrs. Joans' plan to make this class as horrible as she could, had failed. All the same I was relieved when the bell rang and class ended. After promising to meet Jared at lunch I got up and started to leave until I heard the worst sentence imaginable.
"Amy, I want you to stay. I need to talk with you." Mrs. Joans said tightly. Damn, I groaned mentally.
"I'll wait." Vicky said from the hallway and I liked her more then ever.
"Close the door behind you, Mrs. Layne, and there will be no need to wait," growled Mrs. Joans. I knew Vicky would stay anyway, and I felt unbelievably grateful to her for the second time. "Amy, you need to learn your place. You may have been 'too cool for school' at you old school, but not here! Maybe that's why you burned it down, but I will not tolerate any of this obscene behavior!" She lectured me for several minutes, but I couldn't even pretend to listen to her absurd ranting and raving. "You may go!" she shouted. As I walked out the door it kicked in: she accused me of burning down a school! Teachers can't do that! It's not right. It's no allowed! On top of that whole scene she was making me late for my next class. I groaned in frustration. Mrs. Joans yeah right, I thought, more like Satan Joans.
As I knew she would, Vicky was waiting for me outside the door. We began to walk when suddenly she stopped and said.
"We have different class now but I'll meet you after. Your class is down this hall, second door. I'll meet you for lunch." Vicky smiled and rushed off for her class.
"Thanks!" I shouted after her as I approached the door. I stretched out my hand to grab the doorknob, but hesitated. I got this weird feeling of forbidding. I tried to calm myself. It's just because it's my first class without Vicky and I'm late, I thought trying to compose myself. When I walked into the classroom I looked apologetically at that teacher. She was fairly tall with pale skin, high cheekbones, and a straight nose. Her hair was long, dark, and wavy, and eyes a tad darker. She was beautiful. "Sorry I'm late. Mrs. Joans held me after class." I managed to mumble. She nodded and gave me an understanding look. I liked her already.
"Well, you must be Amy." She smiled, not even asking for the late slip I had not thought to get. "I am Mme. Leclair, and I will be your French teacher. It always makes me happy to receive a new student. Please seat yourself anywhere available." For a French teacher she had flawless English. The room had tables rather then desks, and each table had two chairs. I hesitated, not knowing anyone once again, and too embarrassed to sit at a table with a stranger. "Here perhaps?" she extended her arm to a table in the back seating a young man. A very attractive young man, I thought wishing I could see him better, but he was looking down. I nodded and took my seat. The whole time I didn't look at him, despite the fact I really wanted too. I was too afraid to have him catch me staring or see him glare back because he had to sit with the new kid. He scared and intimidated me and I didn't even know his name. "Very good." she approved. "Now I will pass out a sheets with sentences on them and you and the person next to you must translate them and practice the pronunciation. I will circulate among you to see the extent of your French language abilities." She began to pass them out and I reluctantly turned to my associate in this task. When I turned my head I gasped and choked on my own spit. He was tall, I could tell even though he was sitting down, and gorgeous. He had luminous pale skin, beautiful dark coppery-ashen hair and light, warm chocolate brown eyes that I couldn't help but get lost in. He looked like a model in a Back To School clothing campaign. I bet he owned one of the flashy cars I had noticed earlier.
"Hi, I'm Ash." he said turning towards me, his smile displaying all his perfect teeth and most of all snapping me out of the trance I had been in. Even his name is amazing and model-like, I thought. When my mind began to function properly again I wondered briefly if he had ever wore braces. Then for a split second it looked as if his eyes drifted to my bruise. I quickly pushed my hair in front of it, praying he would forget. He looked at me expectantly, as if he wanted something. I tried to think of what this might be, and then it struck me. My name, I hadn't yet told him my name. All I had to do was say my name. He still stared at me looking amused. Okay, my name. Just tell the model your name, I urged myself. Just say it anytime now. He must think I'm stupid, I can't even tell him my name is… is…
"I'm Army!" I blurt.
"Army?" he said shocked, then even more amused.
"Wait, no… Amy." I blushed a deep crimson. Wow, I thought, could that have gone any worst? The answer was probably not, I thought but I was wrong…
"Well, Amy, tu parles le français?" he asked in flawless French. Though I was completely awful at French, I'm sure anyone could figure out he was asking me if I spoke it. Had I been completely honest with him I would have said no, but being that we were in French class I decided to go with the obvious answer.
"Sí!" I said, trying to pronounce it correctly. I was surprised when he burst out laughing. What had I done wrong? Didn't I say it right? 'Sí' meant 'yes'… didn't it? My face glowed even redder and my eyes filled with tears of embarrassment. I quickly blinked them away. He looked at me as if waiting for me to shout 'just kidding!' When I didn't he tried to collect himself and stop laughing.
"Well, maybe French isn't exactly your thing," he smiled. I still didn't understand, but pretended to and forced myself to laugh but it sounded false even to me. The rest of the hour we spend mostly talking and sometimes working on our sentences. Ash pronounced everything perfectly and I barely comprehensible. I jumped when the bell rang and blushed yet again. Ash got up and saluted me and flashed me another perfect smile. "Maybe I'll see you 'round sometime."
"Yeah, maybe," I managed weakly but he was already gone. When I got to the door Vicky was already waiting for me. "How did you get out of class so early?" I asked her.
"I told the teacher I was helping a new kid today." She smiled weakly, looking abashed. "So, I'll show you to the cafeteria." She started to say something, but stopped. After a few more steps she looked around and turned back to me looking satisfied. "So… did you meet anyone… innteerresssting," she drew out the word, "in your class?" Oh! She wanted to know about Ash!
"Um… well there was this one nice guy." I mumbled. She looked at me impatiently obviously wanting me to continue. "Mme. Leclair told me to sit with him and he seemed nice, except…" Then I remembered the burning question I wanted answered. "Vicky, what does 'sí' mean? It means 'yes' doesn't it?" It was silent for a moment then she burst out laughing too. "Vicky what's so funny? Ash laughed at me too. I don't get it!" Her laughter got even louder and more ecstatic.
"Amy," she began, still laughing, "'sí' does mean 'yes'… but in Spanish!" she continued to laughed as I blushed an unnatural shade of red. "And you said that in front if Ash Winters! Ohmigod, I think I would have died if it were me." She quickly turned to me apologetically. "Sorry." She mumbled stifling her giggles. We continued walking and when we reached the doors I was surprised to see Jared.
"Hey, Amy!' he smiled cheerfully. "You said we could have lunch together." His face fell so animatedly it almost made me laugh. "Oh, if you changed your mind that's okay too…" He sounded genuinely worried. It made me smile.
"Well, I'm going to have lunch with Vicky but I'm sure you can come too.' I glanced at Vicky, and she seemed okay with it so we got in line. Once we were served Jared insisted that he pay. I reluctantly let him when I realized I hadn't brought enough money anyway. We began to sit at an empty table, and that is when I noticed Ash. He was to my left about three tables away. He smiled at me and I looked down, embarrassed. I wish Ash had wanted to sit with me at lunch.
"He likes you," said Vicky simply from beside me. I looked back at him, and was about to agree, but the words never left my mouth. A gorgeous blonde walked into the cafeteria and sat down beside him. She didn't look like a super model thought; she looked better. I groaned in frustration. She didn't have the anorexic look that major models did. As if when you touched them they might break. She also wasn't plastered in makeup with a heavy fake tan like almost all the girls-and teachers-at this school. She was actually kind of pale, I noticed. Her slightly wavy blonde hair flowed behind her like woven silky gold. I bet she has a beautiful name like Anastasia or… Serena or… Aphrodite, I thought glaring.
Ash flashed her a giant smile as from her bag she pulled out food, and passed some to him. Well, it was lunchtime, I figured. She was looking down at her food when her heavenly ocean blue eyes suddenly snapped up to look at me. Her expression was that of mortification, as if she was looking at something disgusting and repulsing. When she realized I was watching her she tried to smile apologetically. It made me feel like she was saying, "I'm sorry you're so ugly and I look like a model, oh and I get Ash. Imagine that!"
"His girlfriend doesn't." I said instead. I chanced another glance at the table. To my relief she was talking to Ash, no longer paying attention to little insignificant me. Another model-boy had joined them. He was pale and had light brown hair with slight spikes in the front. Both he and the blonde looked about seventeen or eighteen while Ash I guessed was about sixteen or seventeen because he was in my class. Vicky looked confused and opened her mouth to undoubtedly tell me her opinion for the next hour but I didn't want to talk about it so I quickly changed the subject, and turned my attention to Jared instead. "So do you play any sports?" A smile spread across his face, displaying his perfect teeth once again.
"I play every sport! Mostly I play soccer and basketball, but I also play volleyball, and badminton." He smiled and went on, but I only pretended to be listening. It was like math class all over again. To my immense relief, Vicky was mesmerized by his every word.
I looked around the room for a familiar face while pretending to listen to whoever was now talking. I did a double take as I recognized a dark-haired boy. It was Matthew Connor, one of my best friends from my old school.
"Isn't that funny Amy?" Vicky asked. I could tell by the tone of her voice it wasn't the first time she asked this.
"What? Huh, oh, oh yeah, I guess. I gotta go see something I'll be right back." I said not waiting for a response. I walked up to Matthew hoping it really was him. "Matthew?" I asked quietly. The boy turned around with a confused expression. A smile spread across his face.
"Amy? Amy! I didn't know you were coming here too!" He stood up and hugged me as his new friends looked on. I hadn't realized how much I had missed him over the summer until I felt his muscular arms around me. I breathed in his familiar scent, and sighed. Not too many men would hug someone especially public when they had to start a new reputation at a new school on top of that. Matthew was an exception and I loved him for it. He didn't feel that he needed to prove himself like most guys did. Matthew was extremely good looking with his dark brown hair and beautiful brown eyes. He was average height with an athletic build. In spite of being in the sun often, he rarely seemed to tan. Regardless of being crazy good looking-almost enough for Ash to have competition-he was also a really good guy. Matthew was reliable and caring.
I looked down as I felt his eyes on my left cheekbone. Matthew is probably the only other person who knows about my 'situation'. Despite his many efforts to try and get me to go to the police and/or the CFS he accepted that I wouldn't, though he made a point of showing me he didn't approve.
"Is everything… okay… with… everything?" He struggled for words, trying not to make me feel uncomfortable, but also trying to make me see he was not just talking about changing schools. His caring expression pained my heart, and I nearly began to bawl and confess how I didn't think I could stand to live in that house a second longer. Instead I forced yet another fake smile to my lips.
"Everything is fine." I lied smoothly. After so many years of practice I was quite sure I could fool a lie detector, but obviously Matthew was not convinced, as my 'ability' never seemed to work on him. I decided a subject change was due. "It's so good to see you! I was afraid I was the only one. Karen and Sherry aren't here, are they?" As I asked about our closest friends from our old school I realized I was genuinely interested.
"Well, Sherry is going to a private school now. It's called Saint… something. Saint Mary's, maybe. Oh yeah, and I'm pretty sure Karen was sent to some über expensive boarding school. It sounds like something her parents would do." He was referring to the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Sewatskie have lots of money and they enjoy spending it. Karen had strawberry blonde hair and navy eyes. She was tall, slim and surprisingly strong for her build. Though she had a pretty face, she made sure everyone knew she was much more then that. Sherry on the other hand was all about looks. Karen had been confident, but Sherry had been insecure. Sherry had long, straight, black hair and hazel eyes. Her face consisted of a petit nose, a curvy mouth and high cheekbones. She was tall enough to be a model and her skin was creamy and flawless.
When I really thought about it I wondered why three such great, beautiful people would hang out with an average girl with an abusive stepfather and drunken mother. I never came to an answer that made sense. Though I couldn't figure it out I was immensely grateful. Now that I had lost touch with Karen and Sherry I was glad that at least I had Matthew. If I had to pick the one that meant to most to me it would be Matthew. Despite their efforts, the other two just could not understand they way he did. A bell rang signaling the end of lunch period. "I'll see you later!" I said waving at him, like an idiot. He smiled and nodded.
As I walked out of the room, I pulled the schedule Vicky gave me from my backpack. It told me I had Science/Bio next then gym. I was so horrified I had gym, I didn't think about my last class, art.
In my horrification I stupidity forgot I had absolutely no idea where my next class was. I frantically jogged down random hallways in hopes of finding Vicky. I was so absorbed in my search I didn't notice until it was too late. I let out a cry as I crashed in someone's hard body. I looked down embarrassed out of my mind. I felt my face grow hot, and begged myself not to cry in frustration. As I faced the ground I noticed my bag had open and my books were scattered all over the floor. I crouched down to pick them up and flee when I noticed my victim of a hit-and-run attempt was also crouched down. I chanced a look and stifled a gasp. It was the pale model with the light brown hair; the one who had been sitting with Ash and his girlfriend! The embarrassment went from mortification to horrification. He continued to pick up my things, oblivious to my reactions. I couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was, in a guy way. Once the task was completed we both stood simultaneously.
"Well, you were headed somewhere in a hurry." He said in a soft velvety voice. He smiled kindly and his stunning light blue eyes twinkled.
"Yeah… well, um…" I mumbled, my mind searching for something intelligent to say, but the search turned out to be unsuccessful. When I didn't respond he slowly held out my books to me.
"I believe these are yours,"
"Um… yeah thanks. Sorry about, you know… almost killing you." I mumbled look down again. He chuckled softly.
"No, it was my fault I should have been paying more attention. You never know when a lost girl can be sprinting through the hallways." He smiled ruefully at his bad joke. I nervously took the books from him and pushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear. His beautiful eyes wandered to my left cheek, to the bruise I had forgotten completely about. I quickly pushed my hair in front of it again. As I did this I nearly dropped my books on the floor anew. He looked me straight in the eyes, but his eyes were understanding and compassionate and not mocking, as I expected. "Is everything okay?" he asked tentatively. I knew he meant about the bruise and not just the fact that I was lost. He reminded me of Matthew; I immediately, and reluctantly liked him.
"I'm just kinda lost," I admitted, trying to turn the subject from my personal affairs. He seemed to get the hint.
"Where are you headed?"
"Um, Science slash Bio," I answered. He smiled.
"Well, it just so happens that, that is also where I'm off to." Great, I thought, I was going in completely the opposite way. I expected him to walk in front of me, to purposely speed up if I tried to keep up with him, to pretend that he didn't know me. Instead he walked beside, treated me like an equal. We walked in a comfortable silence, unlike the usual awkwardness. As we continued on our way, I received numerous jealous stares from girls who passed us by. Every time this happened my eyes dropped to the floor, and my face grew hot and red. We soon reached a door and entered quietly.
"Your almost late Anthony," said a small, soft voice. It was the teacher. She was small with mousy brown hair, a pointed nose, and light watery blue eyes. Her tone wasn't accusatory; she was merely pointing it out.
"Sorry Mrs. Clemintine," Anthony spoke up in his velvet voice, "there was a bit of an accident in the hall. Amy here," her gestured towards me, "got a bit lost on her way to class." Mrs. Clemintine nodded, and turned back to the class. I wondered silently how he knew my name. Anthony strolled towards an empty table, and sat down. I hesitated, and took a step toward him, but stopped. Of course he didn't want to sit with me, he just helped me because he felt sorry for me. My eyes burned at my embarrassment. I was caught between running from the room and passing out when Anthony pulled out to chair beside him and gestured to it. I slowly started for it, giving him lots of time to tell me I had misinterpreted. He didn't, and I sat down self-consciously.
Mrs. Clemintine threw herself into a passionate fifteen-minute speech. After this she instructed us to get into partners and read pages one through twenty-three in the science books she was going to pass out. We were then supposed to answer the questions on pages twenty-four and twenty-five. As I soon found out the text was about botanies in which I was certain I had no talents. With all the bravery I could muster I spoke up.
"How do you know my name?" I asked. He gave me a bemused look before replying.
"Ash told me." He said simply.
"Oh." I said dumbly nearly smacking myself on he forehead. I quickly tried to say something else before I embarrassed myself even more. "I don't think I'm going to do very good in this class. I don't know much about plants."
"Well," he began his dazzling eyes dancing, "lucky for you, I am." Anthony and I spent the next forty minutes half working on the questions, and half talking about life. My life isn't exactly the subject I am most comfortable talking about, but I tried my best. Every time I was getting to an area I didn't really want to talk about, he didn't push me and instead brought up another topic. I realized he would probably be a great psychologist
"What classes do you have next?" Anthony asked after the bell rang. "I wouldn't want you to get lost again." We both smiled at this and I pulled my crumpled schedule from my bag.
"Gym," I said then frown, "then Art." Art? Why did I have art, I couldn't draw to save my life!
"So you're an artist then?" he asked. I groan inwardly.
"Well, actually no. I can't draw to save my life." I admitted. He chuckled at my hyperbole. "I don't really know why I'm in that class. I guess it's probably some sort of mistake." I shrugged.
"Maybe… or maybe not," he said in a thoughtful voice. I was about to respond when he spoke again. "I have Gym too, so I can walk you." I nodded and we walked out the door and into the hallway.
**
Hey, Hey!
As you may already know I don't update as much as I should, but writing is hard! I have a very good idea of what's going to happen in the second chapter of Revived. Because I am planning on writing a book and not a short story, my chapters are much longer then those of other fanfiction stories. Also because my dream is to become a published author I can not write a whole story and put it on here because anyone could steal it. Already someone could do that, but with only a chapter you wouldn't go that far... Because spring break is extemely near I will have lots of free time to work on my story so expect the long awaited updates. Also you may have noticed I am the worlds worst speller\typer so I apalogise for that.
If you actually think I could someday become my aspired author please let me know that this is not all in vain. If this is a story you would consinderer buying were it a book please give me a review. The more reviews I get the more revigorated I become. Also because I have more story ideas popping into my mind then the postal services have mail at christmas-time my mind is pretty hectic. Whenever I clear it enought to focus on Amy, Ash and Co. I quickly run to either computer or notebook and scribble down the story unveiling in my mind! Curse those times when I can get my hands on neither!
Sorry to babble on so, but I just want to make my situation at least slightly more clear then before. In conclusion, read, write a review, and have patience for my next installment!
Thanks! **