love letters.

raegan

"You going to be a little more positive this year, Hightower?" Nik Spiros asks as we walk into our English class for the year. We walk straight to the back of course.

"No chance, Spiros. Positivity is for the naive. Like Philips."

Angelina Philips is a cute girl. There's no denying that. With her curly brown hair, sparkling hazel eyes and plump pink lips against her creamy summer tanned skin, anyone would think that. I guess I'm anyone. But her positivity every year is overwhelming. She can take a shakespeare level tragedy and find a silver lining in it. She did that, when we studied Romeo and Juliet about two years ago, and said that 'at least they're together'. It's kind of infuriating.

She hates my attitude to life. She's said so a million times, that I should always look on the brightside and not take a catastrophe as is, because there's always something to come of it. Even death has a brightside. I don't know how she does it.

We take our seats at the back of the class and wait. Angelina does a little speed walk through the door as the bell rings with Monica trailing not far behind- who Nik watches, not sure what's up with that - and moves to sit at the front. Monica grabs her wrist and drags her to second, ignoring her cries of protest that she wants to sit at the front.

My eyes lock with hers, and I grin. She rolls her eyes. The one thing about Philips? She just has to be first. First row, first floor, first in academics. She can't put a silver lining on me competing with her for first place every year. Sometimes I win, sometimes I don't. Being first doesn't matter to me as much as it does to her, I just like to piss her off. It's a hobby of mine.

"Not front row this year, Philips?" I chuckle, shaking my head, "impossible."

I watch as she inhales, then exhales before turning around in her seat to bite back. "Not a choice, Hightower. I'd rather be at the front than be this close to you." Her words only make me grin, and I can't stop as Nik breaks into raucous laughter, and Monica giggles.

"Okay, okay." I hold up my hands in defeat and lean back in my seat. "Turn around. Professor Myers is coming." I nod at the door, and she follows my line of sight. A professor around the age of maybe 40 walks in with a red blazer tucked safely under her arm, a crisp white blouse and black trousers walks in, black framed glasses perched on her small nose. She moves to stand in the front of the class, brushing her mid-length black hair out of her face.

"Welcome, class, to English. I am Professor Myers, and you will address me as such." Her eyes scan the room. "This is everyone?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's quite an advanced class." Philips pipes up, raising her hand. Though, if it's so advanced, I'm not sure how Spiros made it.

"Okay." The teacher nods. "Then let's get started. Our theme for this semester is-" She picks up a piece of chalk and begins writing on the chalkboard. "Truth. Truth in writing and more importantly, the truth of ourselves. But I don't want you to tell me your truths. No."

I know where this is going, and I really don't like it.

"Over the last semester, I had your professors observe you and your mannerisms, and I'll be pairing you with the person in the room I believe you're least likely to pair yourself with."

Bloody hell. A fucking pair project?

"This project will take you all semester, so let's get to pairing." She picks up a clipboard and flicks through the sheets on it, peering up at us over her glasses when she's done. I already know who she's going to put me with. And I really can't be bothered.

"Nik Spiros and..." Oh? "Monica Afolabi. You'll be working together for the semester." I swear I hear Monica groan in front of him. Nik just laughs. Again. Philips pats her shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

She goes on for another couple of names. I still haven't heard mine or Philips, which only serves to piss me off.

"And finally, Angelina Philips and.." Here we go. "Reagan Hightower." The professor looks up at me and her lips part. I roll my eyes and lower my head. Everytime someone hears my last name, they look at me like I'm not human.

This is Hightower. I'm a Hightower. It's not rocket science that my family owns the school. But the Hightower name runs deeper than just a school.

Hotel chains. Restaurant chains. Car dealerships. Etcetera, etcetera. The list goes on and on, but it's all just money. My name is all people think of when they look at me. It's kind of ... tiring, really.

Hazel eyes pierce my skin, so I look up and catch Philips staring at me. "You okay?" She mouths, her big round eyes full of concern.
I just nod, and motion for her to turn around.

"Those are all the pairs. Your aim is to find out your partner's truth, and at the end of the project, you'll give a presentation on just how you did that. But for now, open your copies of Jekyll and Hyde, and we'll look at the main themes." The sound of rustling paper fills the air, and class officially begins.

timeskip

"Hightower? Really?" I hear Philips hiss at Monica as we walk out of class. "Of all people-"
"She did say it's supposed to be with the person you're least likely to pair yourself with," Monica offers with a shrug -her face falling- "and at least you're not with the most unserious person in the school."
"Am I really that bad, Monica?" Spiros swings his arm over Monica's shoulders and grins at her. "This is about getting to know eachother, after all."
She sucks her teeth and pushes his arm off. "Get away from me, Nik Spiros. I would rather work with anyone else."
I chuckle deeply and turn my head to Philips, who looks at me with something that looks a lot like wonder in her eyes.