Vampire Kisses fanfic

Jagger Maxwell/ OC: Emily Payne

A/N: Wow. Sorry it took me so long to post another chapter! It's been really hectic over here and I haven't had anytime to write. But I managed to get this chapter up. Hooray! Sorry for the long wait!!! I'll try and update soon. -Michele

~x~x~Chapter 20~x~x~

Homeroom. One of the places I did not want to be right now.

When my dad had left me in the off-white-walled torture chamber, I decided that I had better get to class ASAP. I had already left a bad impression with my counselor, I didn't want to leave a bad note with my homeroom teacher as well. I looked down at the school map the counselor gave to me. Let me tell you: this school is way too big.

So it turns out that behind this building were a couple of other buildings as well. One was a gym, another was a cafeteria. This main building was two stories high.

This whole building is bigger than my entire apartment building.

I sighed heavily, annoyed. It was going to take me ten million thousand years to find my homeroom class.

I looked back at my class schedule, which I held in my other hand. Homeroom (or "eleventh grade regular English"; yeah, I just totally mocked my counselor) was room 248. I switched my gaze over to my map, scanning for room 248.

There it was.

I sighed with relief. Homeroom was on the bottom story. But it was all the way on the other side of the building. Groaning, I took off into a run.

My heels cloked-cloked all the way down the hall, echoing off the boring walls with the disgustingly glittery posters about Homecoming. Grasping my schedule and map in one hand, I held onto my bag with the other.

I passed by some bathrooms that were separated with water fountains, a janitor's closet, and so many classrooms. Finally, I had come into the row with the 240 rooms.

The odd numbers were on the left and the even on the right. I picked up my pace as I power-walked down the hall, finally coming to room 248. Quickly, I checked my Blackberry for the time.

7:30.

Crap. Thirty minutes late to class. And since school ended at two, that gave me forty-five minutes for each class. I took a deep breath before walking in.

When I opened the door, all talking immediately ceased and each and every pair of eyes fell on me. Damn. The spotlight. The attention. I hated this awkward feeling.

A clearing of the throat sounded from my left. I turned my gaze towards it and found a tall, middle-aged man standing behind a large wooden desk with piles of papers on it. He wore a solid-colored button-down shirt that was tucked into his dress pants. His hair was graying and it was gelled a lot like how Mr. Bradford's hair was. His green eyes were narrowed, with the exception of one eyebrow arching upward. In other words, he looked annoyed to see me.

"May I ask who you are?" he asked, looking me up and down. I shuddered. It's one thing when a teenager does that to me, but it's another when a middle-aged man does it. It creeps me out! Ugh!

"My name is Emily Payne. I'm, uh, new…" I said, still standing at the doorway, looking like a moron.

"Well, that's obvious," he scoffed. I looked at him like he was crazy. I'm sorry, what had he just said? Did this crack head want to be slapped? I didn't care whether he was a teacher or not. I'd had enough of this crap from the staff here at this lame-ass school. Dad said there were other Goths here, why did the teachers look like they had never seen one before?

The teacher sighed and beckoned me to come forth to him. I walked over to him, my back turned to the sea of students. I could feel their eyes burning into my back. My face heated up with embarrassment.

"Let me see your schedule," he demanded, holding out his hand and flexing his fingers, ordering me to give it to him. Impatient, are we? I handed him the paper with all of my classes. He looked over it before handing it back to me. He sighed again.

"Go ahead and sit in the seat next to Brian. Raise your hand, Brian." I turned and saw a tall blonde boy raising a long arm. He was cute, but no where near my type. The boy had jock written all over him, and I didn't have to read it to know that. His hair was spiked and he bore baby blue eyes that tried to look innocent, but they were really filled with mischief. He sported a football jersey and baggy jeans, adding brand new white Nike's to go with the sport look.

Brian looked into my eyes when I spotted him. The feeling was unsettling. Remembering what Jagger had said about boys these days just want sex from a hot chick, I instantly knew that that's what he wanted from me, even if he didn't think I was pretty. He wanted something because then suddenly, he grinned such a disgusting grin I wanted to turn on my heel and walk out that door.

But I didn't. I walked to the seat next Brian and he watched me the entire way. He wasn't the only one either. Every single student watched me. Every prep, every jock, and every Goth (thank goodness I wouldn't be alone in this whitebread school). And not only were they staring, they were whispering about me too.

"Oh my God, look at her tat!" I heard one girl say.

"How embarrassing. She's probably a slut," her friend replied.

Oh, so that's what they thought of me, huh? Because of my tattoo, I was instantly dubbed the slut. But I could already tell already that ninety-five percent of those girls' crowd were sluts. Cheerleading, preppy, popular sluts. That was nothing new.

I sat down next to Brian and the whispers grew louder into murmurs. I rolled my eyes. I hated school. My stupid homeroom teacher hadn't even introduced himself to me. The monkey-butt. I had to look back at my schedule to see his name. Mr. Robert Crammer. Well okay.

Brian peered over to my desk to look at my schedule. "I've got phys ed. and history same periods as you," he said.

Well whoopee.

"I can show you where there are, if you want, after third period," he offered. I sighed. I was in no position to pass up friends--not that we were--or any sort of help. The boy was creeping me out already, so I wasn't sure whether to take him up on his offer or not.

Well, I did.

"Thanks. This school's so freakin' big anyway," I said. Brian grinned again, his blue eyes squinting. Each cheek bore one dimple, which looked really cute. I shook my head of those thoughts. What was it with me falling for guys I had just met. I had to make sure this guy never met my dad. Apparently my dad is weak when it comes to being promised his daughter will be alright with them. Look how that turned out with me and Jagger.

But it didn't matter anyway. I couldn't fall for the jock because 1) I already had a boyfriend: Jagger Maxwell; 2) He wasn't even my type. I wasn't fond of jocks, only Goth guys. And yeah, Brian was cute, but it would never happen.

"Sure, no problem," he replied and turned back to the front, sliding down in his chair and spreading his legs out in the aisles on either side of him so that if someone were to come walking down, they would trip and fall on their face. Typical guy sitting position.

I looked away from Brian and back down at my schedule and map. Next was pre-calculus. I groaned silently. Well, at least it was regular. Math was okay, not my strongest subject, but at least I could get it. I never got perfect scores on tests or anything, but it was better than failing.

I switched my gaze back to the map and scanned it for my next class. Pre-cal was room 119 with a Miss Heather Floren.

Oh no. Room 119. As I scanned the map, I had come to realize that all the 100 rooms were upstairs.

Upstairs. I had to walk upstairs. I looked from where I was now and checked how long the walk was.

Oh.

Hopefully we had a long passing period.

And if not, then I'd have to run.