The OutCast's Stalker

003

"Good morning everyone. I am Dr. Leinman, your English teacher. This class is whatever you want to make it. You can procrastinate and suffer writing a five page paper the night before a due date–which I can always tell. Or, you can do the work, find some sort of courage, and have an easy semester. The choice is yours..."

My teacher's voice begins to fade away as boredom creeps in. The first day of the semester, syllabus day, is always the most taxing. Between teachers giving the same lecture about doing the work or suffering the consequences, and the whole "I used to be a student just like you" speech.

"I feel like they give every teacher the same monologue to read off of," some kid snickered.

I look over at the random person who decided to speak out. His blue eyes peered into mine. Was he talking to me?

"Honestly, you might be onto something," I roll my eyes looking back at my teacher.

"I'm Michael," he introduces, whispering.

"Kaitlyn," I say, still facing forward.

The bell finally rings to release us from this cell.

I grab my bag and make my way out of the classroom.

"Hey Kaitlyn, wait up!"

I turn around to see Michael jogging to catch up to me. I give him a questioning look as he approaches me. His tall frame towers over me. He is a little cute.

"What's your schedule, maybe we have some other classes to suffer together?" He smiles.

He pulls out his folded schedule and hands it to me. I unfold it and see that we also have math and history together.

"I guess we're walking to math together," I say, handing his schedule back.

"I guess I'll just have to guess your schedule then," he smirks.

"I guess so," I remark, walking towards the math hallway.

****

(Kaitlyn)

The rest of the school day went by in a boring, uneventful blur.

I got off the bus—yes, I still take the bus despite being a senior—and headed toward my house.

I shoved my hands into my large hoodie pocket and felt the envelope. The invite, I almost forgot about it. I tear it open—despite telling myself I would throw it away—and pull the folded letter out.

"Kaitlyn,

I know you're not the partygoer, but you're invited to the last annual Halloween costume party by yours truly. Take a chance and live a little for our senior year! I promise you won't regret it. This Saturday at 7 pm, be there!

Mike

Addy: 100 Hilgroove Valley"

Live a little? That's hilarious. I seem to be living a little too much, according to my parents. But, I can't lie, I really am considering going to this stupid party.

I grab the out of my pocket to unlock the front door. I walk in and plop down on the couch. I immediately text Henry about the letter.

Me: "You're gonna hate me"

Henry: "Why what happened already"

Me: "I read the invite and... O_O"

Henry: "Hold on"