Ocean's Storm

Chapter One

It's the first day of senior year, and I'm already late for class. I can't use the 'I got lost' excuse anymore since I already know where every room is. Besides, only the little annoying freshmen have the privilege of using the excuse for the entire first week of school. Some even choose to use it on the first day of the second week.

However, I don't find my being late to be much of an issue. After all, it is the first day of school which means that teachers are going over class rules and dress code. Why anyone would want to waste time trying to enforce things on teenagers is beyond me. Do they really think we care about the rules or allow people to tell us what we can and can not wear? Such a waste of time.

The moment I walk in through the classroom door, the whole class turns their eyes directly to me. A man who appears to be in his early thirties- I assume he's the teacher- looks up from the paper in his hands. His dark brown eyes scan me over and he sets the paper down behind him on the desk. Unlike any of the other teachers I have had in the past, there's not a single trace of bags under his eyes. Either he gets a decent amount of sleep at night or he uses some sort of eye cream that shrinks the appearance of dark marks.

"You're late," he says with distaste.

"Define late, sir," I say with ease. This isn't my first rodeo nor will it be my last.

There is no way this guy will even last two weeks with me in his class. He will either quit or have me placed in the principal's office for the remainder of the year with my luck.

Sounds like a win-win situation to me. Well, except for being placed in the principal's office for the remainder of the year. It's a bit awkward having my father's ex as the school principal. Not to mention, the principal's daughter is my former best friend who is not my number one fan.

"You see that clock up there?" he asks and points up towards the back wall of the room.

I squint my eyes, as though I am attempting to read the small numbers. Counting to ten in my head to make my attempt more realistic, I turn my attention back to the teacher. "I see the clock, but I am having a bit of trouble seeing your point."

He gives me a frustrated look and I give him a sickly sweet smile in return. I really do see the clock, but I can't see the numbers all that well. Actually, I do have glasses that I'm supposed to be wearing, but what's the point? There are some things- like school- that I would rather not see clearly.

"Just let her go," a guy sitting in the front row says. He's wearing glasses that sort of remind me of the ones Daniel Radcliffe had worn in that wizard film. His dirty blonde hair is all messed up like he's been running at a fast pace through strong wind.

"She really isn't worth your time, Mr. Santiago," a girl chimes in from the back of the room.

A chorus of agreement sounds throughout the room, but the look on some of their faces tells me they are enjoying this little scene. Much more enjoyable than a bunch of nonsense rules, indeed.

"And, what exactly makes you so different from the rest of the student body?" Mr. Santiago asks with raised eyebrows. Does he get his eyebrows done too? They look a little too perfect compared to the eyebrows I'm used to seeing.

"Think of me as that one student that enjoys pushing you to your limits like it's all just a game." I narrow my eyes at him only to turn my back on him a second later. "As for seating arrangements... we should redo that too. Some of these people are troublemakers in the making."

"Miss. Hilton, please just go take a seat. There's an available seat upfront here next to Mr. Carpenter and in front of Miss. Bridges." he gestures towards the open seat in the front row. "You can make your seating chart there and hand it to me when you leave."