Chapter 2: Unknown Territory
Bulma stepped into the classroom and turned back to look at the clock above the doorway. She had five minutes before the first bell rang. Vegeta Ouji wasn't in class yet, so she figured that she had time to spare.
She walked over to one of the black-topped, three-seat tables and placed her book bag on top of the right side, by the corner of the room. She didn't want to stand out by sitting in the front, so she chose a place in the middle, and the last seat in the row, nearest to the window. Then she pulled her small purse out of her book bag and made her way back out into the hallway. She glanced everywhere to see if she could find her crush, but he was nowhere in sight. She knew that he had to be in most of her classes, since there was only one AP class per subject. If he was in AP English, then he would be in the same first period class as her, and she knew that he would be there.
She arrived at her destination in good time. She walked into the girls' restroom and quickly pulled out an eyeliner pencil and black mascara. After taking only a moment to make sure that she looked acceptable, she pulled out a comb and brushed through the scarce knots in her wavy blue hair. When she thought she looked presentable, she pulled out her phone from her back pocket and checked the time. One minute before the first bell rang for class. She shoved her things back into her small purse and ran out of the bathroom, nearly knocking into a few people rushing to get to class on time.
She paused outside of her classroom, took a deep breath, ran her hand through her hair a few times, and stepped under the doorway.
The first thing she did was scan the room for him, and she found him on the opposite side of the room from where she had placed her things. She sighed. Maybe next class…
But there was a group of guys and girls around him, so she couldn't see him clearly. Trying to pretend that she wasn't interested in the mob surrounding the most popular guy in school, she huffed and made her way to her seat, replacing her purse in her book bag and pulling out a pen and a notebook. Her three perfect essays were right under the notebook, ready and waiting for a big red "A" to be stamped on the top page.
Finally, as if it took forever, the first bell rang and the mob around Vegeta Ouji dispersed. Most people went to their seats, but some others ran out of the room, shouting that they were going to be late to their class elsewhere. Bulma kept her head down and folded her hands in front of her, on the black-topped table. An orange-haired girl sat in the seat to her right, pulling out a notebook and a pen, just as she had, but her notebook was a five-star, while Bulma's was a single subject, and the orange-haired girl's pen was from Cross, and had intricate pink swirls designing it—obviously very expensive. Did wealth and good grades go hand-in-hand? She hoped not.
Bulma never minded not being the richest person in the school. In fact, she liked her simple, inexpensive life. People like the girl sitting next to her, and even Vegeta Ouji, probably had more money than they could ever want or spend. And it actually didn't surprise her that most of the high-ranking student's parents were rich.
When the teacher walked into the room not a moment later, and everyone looked over at the tall, brunette woman, Bulma took the opportunity to look over at Vegeta. And he was just like she remembered, only better. Her dreams never did him justice over the long summer breaks between the school years.
His jet-black tresses penetrated the air, and stood proudly erect above his head, complimenting his straight posture and slightly built figure. His hands were crossed over his chest, as usual, and he lounged in his chair as if nothing in the world could possibly matter enough to make him tense. A lopsided, tight frown caressed his lips and enhanced the sharp, yet boyish features of his face. His dark eyebrows heightened the power of his onyx eyes, that looked around the room with intensity and the mysteriousness that drove people to be near him all the time. His olive skin was flawless. There wasn't a single mark on him. No tattoos or scars or bruises to mar his perfect complexion. There was also a striking and magnetic aura that seemed to surround him at all times.
It was like the first time she saw him all over again.
She was drawn to him as if it were the very first time. His perfectly sculpted, gravity-defying hair made him look intimidating and enticing. His demeanor was always purposefully respectable to his superiors, and lenient to the clearly bothersome people around him, and yet dominant and unyielding to anyone at the same time. She admired him, not just because of the sexy way he swaggered when he walked down the halls, or the dangerous way that he smiled, but because of his character. He was always so calm, so cool. He'd only lost his temper a couple of times, and they had both resulted in a fight, but his temperamental attitude was sexy as all hell, too. He also looked like he took care of himself; clearly he worked out a few times a week, and ate properly. And his arms looked so strong, so safe, as if his embrace was warm and comforting. Bulma wanted to know what it felt like to be in those well-sculpted arms, just once before the school year was over.
And just like the first time, her thoughts had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. They were trapped in a corner, and all she could think about was Vegeta Ouji. Her mind was forced to wander back to the recesses of her mind, where she had stored most of her thoughts and fantasies about him during the summer. But now, they all came rushing back to her, hitting her head-on like a tidal wave, crashing over her, drowning her mercilessly.
She tried to close her eyes, but behind her lids was the perfect image of him, torturing her, stimulating her obsession for five long years. Her imaginary Vegeta Ouji, that had followed her around during her entire summer, was now fading, only to be replaced by the real thing. She would miss her imaginary crush, who told her how beautiful she looked every time she woke up in the morning with bedhead-hair, and swam with her in the ocean when she took her usual vacations to the beach. The imaginary teenage boy that held her when she cried, and told her that everything was all right when she woke up screaming and crying from a horrible nightmare about her mother, only to find that she was alone in her house, as usual. Sometimes she thought that her imaginary Vegeta Ouji kept her from going crazy. Or maybe she was crazy for creating him in the first place.
Suddenly, everyone in the room started moving. They stood and walked to the front of the room. It took Bulma a few moments to realize that the brunette teacher was collecting the three essays. No one in the entire class forgot to do the assignment. Bulma gulped at the realization that she was in one class higher than she'd ever been in her entire life, and she would have to fight just to keep up with the crowd.
Vegeta Ouji had handed his papers to some brown-haired girl who offered to take them up for him. He remained lounging in his seat. Bulma, deciding that the best way to start getting his attention was to make herself stand out, so she looked towards the orange-haired rich girl on her right.
"I can take your essays up for you, if you want," she said with a friendly smile, offering her hand to the girl.
"Oh, thank you," she replied warily, slowly handing Bulma her three reports.
Bulma took them, continued smiling, and then went to drop the six papers onto the teacher's desk in the front of the room. Then she came back to her seat and the orange-haired girl turned to her with an equally friendly smile. Bulma guessed that she'd gotten over her awkwardness.
"Are you a new student here?" the girl asked, and Bulma blinked a few times in confusion. "I've never seen you around before, and I don't remember you being in any of the advanced placement classes before now."
"Uhm, no," Bulma replied shyly, "I've been here for five years." She tried not to come off as pompous or aggressive to the pretty girl. She looked like a potential drama queen, and Bulma didn't want her getting all dramatic on her because of a simple statement.
"Hey, Angela, don't be rude," a male's deep voice said, and Bulma looked around the orange-haired girl to the blonde boy sitting next to her, two seats to Bulma's right.
"I wasn't being rude, Sharpner. I was just asking because I've never seen her around before. Orange Star High is a big school with lots of people. Not everyone knows everybody."
"Angela, she's the girl…" Bulma listened to the boy named Sharpner trail off and then lower his voice, attempting to prevent Bulma from hearing his next words. But it didn't work. "She's the girl whose mother got raped and murdered a few years ago. Remember?"
Bulma quickly lowered her head and looked at her hands in her lap. Neither Angela nor Sharpner looked at her again for the rest of the period, and if they did, she wouldn't have known. She was too busy staring at her empty hands to notice them anymore.
Is that what everyone knew her as? The girl who didn't have a mother anymore? She thought that everyone had forgotten all about that by now. She would rather everyone think that she was a new student than that pathetic reputation.
She hoped that Vegeta Ouji didn't overhear what Sharpner said. The last thing she wanted was for him to think of her as some helpless little girl that needed her mommy. So far, her senior year was going pretty badly. It was going even worse than she imagined it could ever be.
After a few minutes of lecturing about gothic literature, Bulma finally got the nerve to open her notebook and start taking notes. She was going to need them for this class, so she scribbled down every word the teacher said, hoping she didn't miss anything important. And eventually, the bell rang and class was over.
Bulma wasn't the least bit surprised when her next class consisted of the same exact people as AP English. She knew that most of the smartest students stayed together in their classes. Bulma quickly found a seat away from Angela and Sharpner. She didn't want to deal with their pity-silence for another whole class.
Second period was AP Calculus. Bulma feared this class like no other. Math was her weak spot, and she knew it all too well. She had to have a tutor five times a week last year just so that she could have the chance to be in this class. She was afraid of how long she would need to be in the tutors' offices for this class alone. She mentally joked that she should just start living in the tutors' offices, instead of going home. That way, she would save money on gas.
Vegeta Ouji took a seat in the back left corner of the room. Bulma was happy that he was closer to her than last class, but also nervous because he was behind her. She wouldn't be able to tell when he was looking at the back of her head, and she wouldn't be able to look at him when she was bored. Having him behind her made her extremely uncomfortable. She hoped her hair still looked okay from the back.
"Everyone, please stand up," the teacher said, "Come to the front of the room and I'll give you your assigned seats."
Bulma almost danced in rejoice, but frowned instead. She really hoped she wasn't put near Angela or Sharpner. She would rather have Vegeta behind her again than have to sit next to one of them.
She grabbed her bag and walked to the front of the room, very aware that Vegeta was a few paces behind her. The back of her neck felt hot as she stood and waited for her name to be called. The teacher started with the first letter of the alphabet, and the second was her name, Briefs. She got the second in the first line of desks. She thanked the spirits that she hadn't been put in the front row, but Angela was in front of her.
Eventually, Vegeta was in the front row, near the middle, and Sharpner was in the back, on the right. Bulma felt much better that she could now look at her crush and make it seem like she was looking at the chalkboard. She was also thankful that Sharpner was across the room and Angela couldn't turn around to talk to her without getting in trouble.
After everyone had their assigned seats, the teacher pulled out a pile of packets and began handing them out to the first row of students, asking them to pass the papers behind them to the others.
Angela turned and quickly handed Bulma the stack of stapled papers before whipping back around in a hurry, clearly embarrassed and nervous by how the color of her pretty face was starting to compliment her orange hair.
"Thank you, Vegeta," Bulma heard a seductive voice say, and her eyes instantly went to the pink-haired girl sitting behind her crush. Obviously, the girl was one of the few Queen Bees of the school. She could tell just by the way the girl spoke. Her pink curls bounced as she turned to pass the papers back, and Bulma almost guffawed when she saw the obvious cleavage on the girl. And she wasn't doing much to hide it with the shirt she was wearing.
"Hey, new kid! Can you pass those papers back, or what?"
Bulma jumped and noticed that the boy behind her was glaring daggers at her. She wanted to slap him and tell him that she wasn't new to the school, but she held her tongue and her backhand and just passed the papers to the boy.
"Sorry," she whispered, turning back and looking at the packet on her desk. Her eyes bulged when she saw the words "Review Quiz" at the top of the first page.
It had to be some kind of joke, she hopelessly presumed. A surprise quiz? On the first day? But she didn't even have any time to study. And her pre-calculus class had been during her sophomore year. Junior year, she took geometry and Algebra 2. She wasn't prepared for this, and her heart hammered in her chest. How was she supposed to keep up with Vegeta Ouji and get his attention if she failed the very first quiz? She felt like crying. Her self-esteem had just thrown itself out of an open window and she could feel her ears getting hot.
"Alright," the teacher said when he finished passing out the packets. "Nobody panic. This is only a review. I know some of you took AP Algebra with me last year, so some of these things may not look familiar to you. That's why we're having this review. Don't worry. It's not graded. But it will give me an idea of where the class stands with calculus."
Bulma almost passed out with relief. But she still felt nervous. She looked over the first question and, for a moment, thought that it looked like a different language. She didn't care if it wasn't graded. She was going to bring down the entire class at this rate. And that was even worse than failing.
"Now," the teacher continued, "Before we begin, raise your hand if you have me this year for Physics."
Bulma looked at her schedule and raised her hand. She had the same teacher for this class and her Physics class. Her eyes darted to Vegeta Ouji, and she mentally sobbed when she saw that his hand wasn't raised. Almost half the class didn't raise their hand, so Bulma guessed that there were two physics teachers for the seniors this year.
"Okay. Good. You may begin your quizzes now and bring them to my desk when you are finished. Then you can sit and wait for the bell."
The room fell silent as people began writing. Bulma stared at the chalkboard for a minute before looking back down at her paper, hoping that it would look more like English this time. But it didn't. She notice a few people turning over the first page, so she pretended that she finished the first question and flipped hers over as well.
Bulma panicked when Vegeta Ouji was the first to stand and place his packet on the teacher's desk. She still had three pages to go. She nervously glanced at the clock and tried to slow down her heartbeat. She only had five minutes left, and she could see that most of the students were finishing up their work and handing in their review quizzes.
She just couldn't make any sense out of the last two questions, and her mind wouldn't focus as people stood all around her, and conversed as they walked back to their seats.
"I remember that stuff from two years ago," she heard a petite voice say, and a few other laughed and agreed. Bulma could feel her face getting redder. She didn't know how to even begin the last two problems. She took her chances and scribbled down something that she knew was wrong before flipping her packet to the first page and standing up. The bell rang as she placed it on the teacher's desk, and she ran back to her seat to grab her things and head to her next class: Gym.
She nearly fainted as she stepped out of the classroom. She was so humiliated. The teacher was probably looking over her quiz right now, laughing at her and thinking that she was probably in the wrong class. He would probably recommend that she be put in a remedial class for math. It happened almost every year. Some recommendations were made for her to be put in a less advanced math class, but she fought it every time. And she would fight it this time. She would hire a personal math tutor if she had to. She was not leaving that class!
The first day of gym was always a relaxing period. No one was required to bring a change of clothes, so the class just sat on the bleachers for the entire period. And the best part was that Bulma saw a dramatic hand waving over the crowd. She smiled a smile that hadn't caressed her features in months.
"Bulma! Over here!"
The shrill voice of Launch echoed around the gymnasium as her energetic friend cupped her hand around her mouth and shouted above all the noise of others' conversations. Bulma let out a genuine laugh when she saw her other friend, Juuhachi, clamp her hand over Launch's mouth and drag her down to sit on the bleachers like a civilized human being.
And then there was Chichi, the most loyal friend Bulma had ever known in her entire life, sitting cross-legged and waving at her from across the room, a white-teethed smile lighting up her attractive face. There was no doubt in Bulma's mind that Chichi could be a Queen Bee if she wanted to. She could probably be The Queen Bee of Orange Star High with her glossy black hair and stunningly gorgeous looks. She was made for fame, but she never wanted it. It was one of the most admirable qualities Bulma had ever known in a person, and she was honored to be Chichi's friend.
"Hi, guys. Long time, no see," Bulma said with a smile as she approached her excited friends. "How were your summers?"
"Awesome!" Launch said, "Beaches and beaches and beaches and beaches…"
"I couldn't tell by your tan," Bulma giggled, glancing over the sheer bronze color of her friend's perfect skin. "What about you, Juu?"
"Work and work and work and work…" she said, mocking Launch, who jabbed her in the shoulder, "Unlike some people, I have to pay for college next year because my parents won't help me out. I had to get a job as a ride attendant at some amusement park for five year-olds, so my summer was pretty boring."
"Well, it's a good thing you're saving up for college," Chichi piped in, "You're always so responsible like that, Juuhachi. Launch is a girly girl. She just wants to have fun."
"You got that right, sista'!" Launch shouted, and Juuhachi clamped her hand over the blonde's mouth. Bulma and Chichi laughed.
"So Bulma," Juuhachi said, "What did you do over the summer? Anything fun or interesting?"
Bulma tilted her head in mock-exasperation, "What do you think? I can't go anywhere. I have no money. I live by myself. I don't have time to get a job. And I have to do housework all day long."
"Oh, come on," Chichi said, "I can see you've got a bit of a tan. Where did you go?"
"I just went down the shore for a couple of days. In fact, I just got back yesterday."
There was a moment of silence between them before Launch started bouncing up and down.
"What is it, now?" Juuhachi asked, rolling her light blue eyes at the hyperactive girl.
"Bulma?" Launch asked slowly, and the blue-haired girl looked over at her friend in misunderstanding. "Well…?" She stretched out the word longer than was necessary. Bulma lifted an eyebrow in confusion.
"Well, what?" she asked her eager friend, who looked like she was having a seizure.
"You're going to make me ask it out loud?" Launch snickered.
"Oh, I get it," Chichi said with a smirk, and Bulma and Juuhachi looked over at her for some kind of an explanation for Launch's nonsense. "She means Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, Bulma. How's that plan going for you?"
"He's not that tall…," Juuhachi murmured, but Chichi shot her a warning glare before looking back to Bulma.
"He's in my first and second period classes…" she began, holding back a small smile.
"Oooooh," Launch said, "Tell us all the gory details!"
"Launch!" Juuhachi shouted at her, and then lowered her voice again, "It's not like they made out in the janitor's closet. She just said that they have two periods together. Sheesh. Get a hold of yourself." She turned back to Bulma. "Please continue."
"Well, not much happened. He didn't even look at me…" she said, putting her head down. "And we had some stupid review quiz in calculus, and I had no idea what I was doing, and this girl and this boy asked me if I was a new student, like they've never noticed that I've been here for the past five years, and then this other jerk made some comment about my mom, and no one would even talk to me after that…"
"Oh, Bulma…" Chichi said. Launch placed a hand on her shoulder and Juuhachi gave her an apologetic look. Bulma loved her friends for coming to her rescue when she needed them the most. "It's only the first day back. We're seniors now. Nothing can stand in our way. And you've got to give Vegeta some time. You've never talked to him before, so just focus on being yourself and you'll kill him later." She winked.
"Yeah," Launch added, "And if he doesn't notice the beautiful, intelligent, amazing girl that's right in front of him, then he doesn't deserve you."
"But I'm sure he will," Juuhachi said quickly, leaning forward, "You're awesome, Bulma. He's going to have to notice you eventually. And when he does, you're going to rock his world."
"And we'll be there for you every step of the way," Chichi said with a big smile, "Whether you like it or not!"
"That's right!" Juuhachi and Launch echoed, and Bulma finally smiled.
"You guys are the best," she said softly.
"We know," Juuhachi said with a nonchalant shrug, and then laughed.