Sorry about the late update...i did try to update last night but the site wouldn't let me...so here it is...please review...this is more of a transition chapter and if it really doesn't make sense why i put this in here it will make more sense as the story gets going....remember to review!
The summer passed just as quickly as the last. Soon the leaves would be turning brown and the last bits that summer ever existed would just disappear. All we would have let would be the memories; memories of me and Macon and of me and Scarlet with Grace. The thing about memories is they can be altered and bent, manipulated until it fits what we want to remember. Memories are our own twisted versions of the past; the past we want to remember. I don't trust memories because there always half truth and whole lies.
"What do you say to ditching first period?" Macon said as we pulled into a parking spot.
"Macon it's just the first day of school. We've got a one hundred and seventy nine more days to ditch." I said opening the door, dragging myself and my backpack out of the car.
"All the more reason to start now." Macon rested his elbows over the top of his car, smiling his crooked little smile.
"This year let's make a good first impression." I said trying to keep myself from smiling back.
I hated the way he made me feel; all giddy and happy when he smiled or when his touch sent little bolts of electricity through my body. It wasn't natural for me of all people to feel this way. Scarlet could, Ashley could, and even my mom could but not me. I was the anti-love one of the group and I fell for it.
"Are you implying that the years before this I haven't left a good impression on this school?" Macon fell into step with me.
"That's exactly what I'm implying." I swung my backpack over my shoulder.
"I was a troubled teen last year as M.T. put it." Macon shrugged his shoulders before rapping his arms around my waist.
"Well this year you have no excuse." I walked leaning my head on his shoulder.
"Yeah, I do." Macon stopped walking once we got inside the building that would be our world's hell for the next one hundred and seventy-nine days and leaned up against the lockers.
"Oh really?" I questioned leaing next to him, "And what's that?"
"You." Macon said quietly and with a quick kiss he was gone.
Then came those damn butterflies having spasms in my stomach. God, I wish I could just make it all go away. I didn't want to turn into that kind of girlfriend who's worried about where he is and who he's with. Why couldn't we just go back to being friends like we had been last year? It was so much easier that way.
I couldn't waste all this time worrying about Macon and I; we are what we are. I needed to concentrate on my studies this year, my senior year. Senior year was the last year that counted before college.
School was not one of my best subjects. It's not like I was a bad student or anything I just don't apply myself enough as teachers put it. This year I had to do a 180 because I wanted to change so badly.
English, oh boy. I approached my new first period classroom. My peers began filing in, in loose packs gossiping already about what had happened in the few minutes before first period. I already knew it was going to be the same old crap as last year; it always was. Why couldn't people change, grow up?
The teacher finally called order to the class and I had taken my safe seat towards the back of the room.
"Welcome to twelfth grade English!" She cried rather cheerfully. "I'm Miss Smith, you're teacher. Yes, I'm new here so we'll be learning from each other."
Oh great, I get a former cheerleader as an English teacher and we're going to be teaching each other new things.
"Let me find my class list and then we'll get started." She began shuffling through her many piles of papers. Hadn't she ever heard of organization? She was even mumbling to herself. I could tell this was going to be a long year.
I focused my gaze out the window wishing that I had chosen to skip with Macon. Anything had to be better than this class.
"Hello." I whipped my head around to see what the excitement was about. A boy stood in the doorway of the classroom looking at bit lost. With Miss Smith he wasn't going to find his way anytime soon.
"Hello," Miss Smith looked up from behind her piles, "Can I help you?"
"I think this is my classroom." He looked back down at his schedule, "I'm new here."
"Me too!" Miss Smith jumped from behind her desk and knocked a huge stack of papers down onto the floor. The boy and Miss Smith scrabbled around trying to gather up all the loose papers, "Here it is!"
"There you go." The boy stacked the papers back on top of her desk, "So am I in the right place?"
"What's your name?" Miss Smith had her list ready.
"Michael Franklin." He sifted his weight uneasily. I loved to see people nervous; it made me feel better than them for some reason.
"Well Mr. Franklin you are in the right place." Miss Smith moved back towards her desk, "You may take any seat you'd like."
"Alright," He said shuffling towards the only open seat that was not in the front row, which happened to be next to me. Oh great I get to befriend the new kid. How lucky was I?
"Hi, I'm Mike." He said propping his head on his hand. Bored with me already and he'd only said three words to me.
"I know who you are." I said coldly.
"And how do you know that?" He asked cocking his head to the side with curiosity.
"You just told the teacher who you are." I said flatly. This boy had to be really dumb to not even realize his previous conversation.
"Point taken." He said turning a shade of red, "But who would you be?"
"A girl that doesn't care." I turned back out the window.
"Do you have a name?" He wasn't even getting annoyed with my lack of friendless, just more patient.
"Halley." I gave in. It was taking out so much energy to fight him.
"Like the comet?" He wasn't propped up on his hand anymore, like he was suddenly interested.
"Yeah, like the comet." I couldn't believe that he knew about the comet because not many people did, unless I told them.
"That's cool." He turned his attention from me to Miss Smith who was struggling with a pile of books.
This was going to be one hell of a year.