CHAPTER 2
Tori
RIIING!
My eyes snapped open. I can't believe I fell asleep in Spanish class again. Argh. Señorita Liza or Miss G has a truly boring class. It's just like normal Spanish class. It's just boring because of the mood I'm in today.
I stood up and gathered all my things while she ranted about passing our homework's on time in Spanish. Ugh. I was on my way out the door when I bumped to a wall. A real wall, not some hot, muscular guy who has a well-toned body and is destined to be my soul-mate.
News flash: That doesn't happen in real life, honey.
It's either I'm still really just sleepy... Or my glasses aren't working anymore.
I picked up my things by myself since nobody bothered to help or ask if I'm okay. I am a "nobody" anyway. Okay, not really, A weirdo who is not known by much, rather. Yeah, that's it.
I walked to my locker so that I could dump all the things I didn't need any more and get things for my.. My.. Wait. What's my next class again?
I opened my mini organizer to check my next subject. Once opened, papers of all sorts spilled out. Including my schedule. I started collecting the papers one by one.
Take-out receipt?
Sticky note?
Grocery list?
I have to throw these stuff when I get home.
Aha! I got you now, schedule!
I crawled over to where my schedule was and tried to get it in my grasp when somebody passed by and created wind, bringing the schedule even farther away from me.
I groaned, getting up from my knees so that I won't scrape them. I chased the piece of paper across the hallway 'til it stopped at the feet of someone. Who? I didn't care. I was already running late for whatever my next subject was.
I approached it slowly, and once I was near enough, I tackled the leg of the person and grabbed my schedule.
"Gotcha!" I scanned my schedule. Hmm, my last subject is AP English Lit. Oh yeah! The one I have with Kacey. My only AP class.
I got up from my seating position, and dusted my sweater and skirt. I adjusted the strap to my backpack and was about to head to my locker to do my earlier task when I felt a pair of- No. Pairs of eyes on me. I looked up and saw that they were staring at me. Oh, and somebody on the floor.
Oh. Yeah. I tackled someone's legs. I guess I should help him up-
Oh crap.
It's Reed Stanford.
I tackled Reed Stanford.
Reed flacking Stanford.
My eyes were as big as the size of saucers. No- Plates! Oh I'm screwed. I'm screwed. I'm screwed. I'm as screwed as a newly driven screw. My whole life is screwed up. I should start writing my farewell note. No, my farewell novel. But I won't have enough time! Him just glaring at me will make me disappear in a flick of an eye. I'm not even going to reach my eighteenth birthday, college, life with my twenty-seven cats-
"Why don't you stop hyperventilating there, and help me up?" His deep, husky tone startled me. Have I been hyperventilating? Maybe I was. But now I can't sto-
"Anytime now?" Oh yeah. Why can't he help himself up, anyway? I reached for his hand because I was a good little girl who just wanted to make up for her wrongdoings. But nooo. Fate seems to have other ideas because instead of me pulling him up, he pulled me down making me almost fall flat on my face. Good thing I was able to make a quick turn and landed on my cushioned buttocks instead.
