The Gang Leader's Shorty

Chapter 1

Mornings have never been my forte. In particular, the first morning of the school year. I can confidently say it is not a task I strive to succeed in, especially since it is the first day of senior year. Unlike myself, Luke will be awake by now. I always thought that twins were supposed to be alike. However, Luke and I could not be further from alike if we tried, besides our genetics. He is what most would refer to as a morning person, he succeeds in everything he does and, most of all, he has friends. He's an all round Troy Bolton. 

"Lexi, you have fifteen minutes before I leave without you!" He calls from the bottom of the stairs, likely sipping on his daily smoothie. For some reason, his athleticism has convinced him that the booger green smoothies he concocts every morning will miraculously cure any upcoming disease. It's green, so I won't be drinking it. 

Swiftly, I slide out of bed and prepare for the day. I prefer to dress in inconspicuous clothing, a hoodie, some leggings and I can call it a day. On my way down the cascading stairs of our shoebox house, I am greeted by Luke in his personalised letterman jacket, bouncing on his heels, waiting for me to drive us to school, "We're going to be late," so, I grab an apple and trudge to the front door and turn to Luke, smirking, "How did you plan to leave without me if you don't have a car?" He rolls his eyes and murmurs, "Just come on," before pushing me out of the door.

We pull into the obscurely wide school driveway as Luke asks me the dreaded question, "So, plan on doing anything after school? I hear that Max and Jame's friend Cole is coming back to school? That's fun, eh?" He nudges my side and I simply roll my eyes, "I know you want me to make friends but I just can't! After all, dad made it pretty clear of where I stand. Besides, I used to know Cole and he's an ass, " Luke's jaw clenches at the mention of our father. He can't comprehend how I manage refer to him as anything other than trash after all of the scars he has left on our lives. 

"Okay, that man was a drug addict and a complete waste of a life. Why let him bother you?" However, just as I was about to give my usual petty excuse, the bell sounds so we leave our conversation in the air and head to our first class of senior year. 

I take my usual empty seat at the back of the maths class. Here, not only can I hide from impeding eyes, but I can also avoid answering questions in class. Suddenly, the door swings open and a boy I don't recognise walks in and Max Smith follows after him like a lost puppy. It must be Cole Stone. He heads towards me and, much to my luck, he sits to my left and Max to my right. My heart sinks and I gulp. 

***
After struggling through the hour long class, I am saved by the bell, once again. I grab my belongings and rush out of the classroom, the teacher squeezing out before any of us, just to get pulled back into the room. I manage to pry the hand off my arm and smash my foot into their toes and I look up to see Cole stood before me, fuming, comical smoke figuratively pumping from his ears.

We stand there, staring at each other for a while until he says, "Well, aren't you going to talk?" and I just grab my phone and type,"I'm still mute, Cole."

He just stares for a few excruciating moments before blinking, as if he is trying to digest what limited glimmers of my appearance that is on for display, "Oh, you remember me?"

How could I not remember him? He's a pompous ass and I have always taken pride in the fact that I had nothing to do with him, "Not much." 

Suddenly, he looks really irritated, until he mutters, "Oh, well, then."

"If you'll excuse me, I have a class to get to." 

I attempt to continue down the hall but fail, once again, when he grabs my arm and spins me around, "I'm in literature next, can you show me the way?" I simply nod in response and we rapidly make our way to my literature class, another lesson we seem to share.