The Hidden Hunter ✔️

Chapter 2: New School, New Stories

Shauna's POV

John Quincy Adams Middle school. I was transferring two weeks into the school year, which would make everything even harder to get accustomed to. And to make matters worse, I was five minutes late to my first class; eighth grade History.

I entered the school building and took in the scene around me. The lockers were red and yellow which grabbed my attention, there was a random bench near the bathrooms that I guessed was the prime passing period hangout spot, and stairs that led to the second floor directly behind it.

Looking at my transfer slip I saw that my first class was in room 102 with Mr. Matthews. Hopefully he was an okay teacher.

  As I was about to enter the classroom, a boy around my age pushed past me and threw open the door. "Y'all started without me?" he exclaimed, though he hardly seemed upset about this, in fact, it seemed to humor him.   

  "Get Out!" I heard someone snarl and I turned into the doorway to see that the snarl came from some boy with a bowl cut and a turtle neck.

"Someone in this room is going to be very surprised to see me," New Boy said with a grin, ignoring bowl-cut boy completely as he glanced in the direction of a, admittedly, very attractive blond-haired, green-eyed young man.

"Is it me?" A baby faced, bubbly, brown-haired girl asked innocently.

  "I Don't know Suga', but could you be any cuter?" the new kid asked with a smirk.

  "Well I can't answer that."

"Do you have a transcript?" A curly-headed adult who had to be the teacher asked, seeming slightly annoyed at the interruption.

"I do. Check out them grades. Here let me sing em to you. De De De De De De, Eff."

  "I know that song!" A feisty looking girl exclaimed.

  "I'm familiar with different lyrics."

The class turned to me in astonishment. Apparently I wasn't all that visible behind this other new kid.

"Okay, so you are Isaiah Babineaux from Austin, Texas," Mr. Matthews read of the transfer slip. "And you are?" he asked motioning towards me.

  "Shauna Moore. I just moved here from Spain," I answered, confidently handing him my slip.

Mr. Matthews had a strange expression written across his face, almost as if he'd seen me before.

"Is everything alright sir?" I asked the perplexed looking teacher.

  "Yes, yes everything's fine. You just look like an old friend of mine. That's all. Please have a seat over there Ms. Moore," he answered, motioning to the seat left of the bubbly girl.

As I took my seat I heard the attractive boy ask, "What are you doing here Zay?"

"Well, the first thing I'm doing is waitin' for a better reaction from you," the alleged boy named Zay answered, seemingly unfazed by the harsh tone.

"Maya, something's changing."

Mr. Matthews was about to begin his lesson on Belgium 1831, when all of a sudden some random kid spoke up questioning the meaning of life. Last I checked this was not Philosophy...

Mr Matthews erased the board and chuckled as the bowl cut kid—Farkle—screamed, before completely changing his lesson.

"Yes Ms. Moore?" Mr. Matthews called on me as I confusedly raised my hand.