• Chapter 1

    “Sweetie! Wake up!” called my mom.
    “Ya ya, I’m awake,” I called back down the stairs, crawling out of my bed. I looked at my alarm clock. According to it, I hadn’t slept in, very unusually, and today was Monday. I hate Mondays.
    When I started getting dressed, I threw on an old sweatshirt and tank top from the laundry basket, tugged on a pair of skinny jeans, and laced up my sneakers. Then, I walked towards my vanity mirror, bracing myself with a brush in my hand, as I tackled my bed head. As I tried to tame the long, midnight black mess I call hair, I also criticized myself, like I always do. I was a skinny girl (though my mom calls it “slim”) with a very angular face. I’m petite at 5.3, and MAN do I look Italian! It’s kinda weird though, because my mom isn’t Italian at all… must be from my dad’s side, though I don’t remember my dad. He left my mom and me when I was a baby. I don’t really know why, my mom doesn’t really talk about him. Basically, the only two things that I think are pretty cool about myself are my freakishly bright green eyes, and my birth mark. The later almost looks like an eye, located just below my right ear.
    I really don’t wear any make-up, partly because I’m a klutz and could very likely poke my eye out, and partly because I’m just too lazy, so with that said, I left my face like it was and went downstairs to the kitchen, where I found my mom buzzing around, getting ready to go to work at her law firm. I sat down and started pouring some cereal into a bowl. My mom looked up from whatever she was doing and smiled.
    “Morning honey,”
    “Hey,” I replied, still half asleep. After spooning 2 spoons of rice crispies into my mouth, I got up and grabbed my nap-sack. Usually, I don’t leave so early, but I had to retake a test and didn’t want to run out of time. My mom frowned as she took in the spaghetti stains on the green tank top I was wearing and my half tamed hair.
    “Sweetie couldn’t you, well; change your shirt for something clean? That, and comb your hair more? I’m sure there is a special guy out there who you want to impress,” she said. I rolled my eyes. My mom was always trying to make me dress not so sloppy by mentioning how if I dressed better, I would impress EVERY guy in my school. I know, not very good parenting, but I still love her. Besides, I don’t think my mom has realized that none of the guys at my school appeal to me. They all equal cocky, pig-headed, stupid guys to me. That may sound a little harsh, but seriously, they all are pretty simple-minded.
    “Mom! I’ll be late for a retake of a test I have to do! Bye!” I called, rushing out the door before she could stop me.
    I climbed into my little 1985 Volkswagen and headed for high school.
    Chapter 2.
    When I got there, the parking lot was pretty scarce, that is except a couple druggies hanging out by the side entrance. I headed for the main entrance and walked into my senior science teacher’s science lab. When I got there, turns out Mrs. Jones (my science teacher) was already talking to some boy. Though I could only see the back of his head, he looked like he was new here. While I was waiting for Mrs. Jones to finish, I flopped down my nap-sack and tried to get a better view of this mysterious new kid. This didn’t succeed, because at the angle I was sitting at, you still couldn’t see more that the back of his dark brown hair. Then, when I tried to move around so that I could see his face full view, Mrs. Jones FINALLY noticed me and said,
    “Oh! Emi! I’ll get your test in a sec. Hey! Do you think you can show around Brandin today? He is new here.”
    “Um… sure Mrs. Jones,” I replied, as Mrs. Jones went into her office to get my test. I started searching for a pencil to use, when I looked up to see Brandin suddenly right in front of me, looking at some notebooks I had dropped as a result of my search. He picked them up, and started looking at where my name was on them.
    “Emi huh? Interesting name,” he commented, handing the notebooks over to me. I looked up into his face and gasped. I’m not one to swoon, but he was HOT! He had surfer style, dark brown hair that was a little messy, dark, deep, focused brown eyes, and a perfect athlete’s body.
    “Um… thank you?” I asked, a little nervously. “It’s Japanese.”
    “hmm… cool,” and with that he turned away, looking out the window of the science lab. I guess he isn’t that much of a talker.
    “Okay, here you are Emi,” Mrs. Jones said, in her singsong voice.
    “No prob, just let me know when you’re done,” she replied, smiling. I finished that 50 question test in 10min., probably because Brandin was standing less than 5 yards away from me and I wanted to get out of there. When I handed in my test, I realized I had to show around Brandin today. Great, even more opportunities for him to notice how much of a klutz I am.
    “Hey um… Brandin, the bells about to ring, do you need me to show you to your home base? Where’s your schedule?” I asked shyly.
    “I’m fine, I’m not a baby. You seem nice but I don’t need your help, so why don’t you just run off to your classes’ k? K.” he returned, coldly. I was shocked. All I did was ask him if he needed help! Man, this guy was moody!
    “All I did was ask, no need to be so rude!” I exclaimed back, walking off to my home base with Mr. Brown. There, my bad luck kicked in and not only was Brandin also in my home base, but he was assigned to sit next to me. Just my luck. We didn’t really talk much, even through the next period as well, which was involving partners. All we did was separate whose was who’s work and then did it in silence while all around us there was stage whispers of the latest gossip, spit balls flying, and giggling between the two opposite genders. When we were done, I started to go to my next class when I spilled my books all over the carpet. Luckily for me, Brandin and I were the last ones there. Brandin picked up a few books and handed them to me, but I refused to take them.
    “I don’t need your help, thanks,” I said, scolding at him. Then, I got up, and brushed back my hair behind my ears. I heard a gasp and looked up at Brandin looking at my right ear.
    “Weirdo,” I thought to myself, as I walked out to the hallways. When I had started walking to physics, Brandin caught up with me.
    “Wait, stop, please?” he begged, out of breath.
    “What do you want?” I asked irritated.
    “I think we got off of the wrong foot. Want to start over?” he suggested. At first I was suspicious, but then he looked straight into my eyes. I blushed underneath the pressure and stuttered that I agree. Then, as I walked him to his next class we talked about what our hobbies were, what kind of music we liked (same type, rock and indie, hip-hop, and some pop), and one time he asked about the eye thing underneath my ear.
    “It’s just my birth mark. I know, it’s kinda weird looking,” I laughed.
    “hahaha yeah…” he murmured back, and from that point on, it seemed like his mind was somewhere else.