Disclaimer:
I STILL own nothing but Olivia and her parents.

Olivia, Olivia
Chapter Four

Finally arriving at the school, late, of course, Olivia found that her first class (history) had started about ten minutes ago. Obviously the teacher wouldn't be pleased when she walked in over ten minutes late because, let's face it, it was gonna take her awhile to actually find the classroom.

Being new to the school, she, of course, didn't know her way around. The only thing she knew was that she was supposed to go to the office to get a locker. But she didn't even know where that was. Obviously she'd arrive to history really, really late.

It actually took her only about five minutes to find the office. The lady sitting at the front desk had a rather large perm, her blush wasn't rubbed in nearly as much as it should've been, and she'd applied way too much eyeliner for her own good. And the red lipstick she was wearing was absoloutely revolting.

"Yes?" the woman asked, without even a glance in her direction.

"I'm new," Olivia said, eyeing the woman's poofy hair and lime green clothing that just happened to match her lime green nails. "And I need a locker. I'd rather not share, you know."

The woman, still without looking up, scribbled something down on a peice of paper and handed it to her.

"New students have to share. Your locker's on the second floor. Number 163."

Olivia rolled her eyes, not thrilled at all about having to share a locker with someone she didn't even know. But knowing arguing would get her nowhere, she stormed out of the room. And she made sure to slam the door.

Now all she had to do was find the history class. It wasn't going to easy, but she was certain it wouldn't be that hard. After all, the school only had three floors and according to her schedule, History was on the first. She didn't even have to climb any stairs.

When she found the history classroom, it had started a good twenty minutes ago. When she convinced herself to go in the classroom, it had started twenty one minutes ago.

"Late on your first day, are we?" asked an annoyingly scratchy voice, which she guessed belonged to the teacher.

"Well, first I had to go to the office, and I can't even find my way around this fu- I mean, I can't even find my way around this stupid school."

The teacher, knowing she had almost cursed, frowned.

"Miss-?"

"Twadell."

"Miss Twadell, you're lucky that it's your first day, and that you have a good excuse for being late. No detention. But if you're late again in the future..."

"I'll get detention, right? I've heard this lecture before." She rolled her eyes as the teacher frowned again and pointed to a seat at the back of the classroom.

"Sit next to Mr. Rodriguez."

Rodriguez? Where had she heard that name before?

Looking in the direction the teacher was pointing, she found that it was one of the nine boys she'd met the other day. He looked a little shocked to see her, although she didn't know why. Obviously he would've figured that she'd be going to the same school as him.

"Isn't your name Benny?" she asked, taking her seat beside him.

"Yeah. And you're Olivia, right?"

"Yeah."

The teacher had now begun the lecture again, and of course Olivia had no idea what he was talking about, so she didn't even bother to try and understand. Instead, she turned to Benny again.

"... Is history always this boring?"

He raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"You aren't even listening."

"Because it's boring."

"Yeah, well get used to it. I don't see why we need to know any of this stuff in the first place. I mean, everyone's always telling us not to dwell on the past. So how come they have to teach us about it?"

And strangely, to Olivia, this was actually a good point.

"I think it's more them telling us not to dwell on our past," she said with a shrug, sparing a quick glance at the teacher to make sure he hadn't noticed they weren't paying attention. But no one was really paying attention, and the teacher either didn't notice or just didn't care. Students were talking, laughing, whispering and passing notes. It was kind of hard to just overlook. "I'm just glad Eric Phillips, or as he likes to call himself, the Eric Phillips, isn't in this class."

Benny, who had been watching a pair of girls pass a note back and fourth swerved his head around to look at her, and she saw that a look of displeasure and disgust had appeared on his face.

"When did you meet Eric Phillips?" He had said Eric's name in a dull tone that just screamed dislike. It was obvious that for whatever reason, him and Benny weren't on very good terms. They probably never had been, but she couldn't say for sure. All she could do was recall her run-in with Phillips and watch as Benny's disgusted look increased with every sentence.

He never got a chance to state his opioion though, because as soon as she'd finished speaking, the bell rang, signalling that it was time to head to her next class of the day which her and Benny unfourtunently didn't share.