Music Diaries {{Part 2 - Chapter Five}}

Book One

Fearless

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Part One



Preface


Chapter One


Chapter Two


Chapter Three






Part two



Preface


Chapter Four


Chapter Five

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Spoiler:

Part One

Count to ten, take it in,
This is life before you know
who you’re gonna be.
Part One.


Preface

I hoped in the car, all of my nerves on edge.
I closed the door and buckled my seat belt,
practically bouncing in the seat. I bit my
bottom lip, and wondered what my first day
would be like. Sometimes, me and my friends
played a game, making up what our first day
of school would be liked and what our last day
of school would be like. We would write them
down and tuck them away, then over the summer
we would take them out and laugh about how
wrong out predictions were. When we were little,
we said that dragons would be guarding the opening
to the castles, and that we would have to fight to
save the princesses inside. And we had to deliver
her to the prince, and if we won, then we would
go home champions and the people would shower us
with gifts like Barbie Dolls and Polly Pockets
and Easy Bake Ovens, or maybe some cookies and
cake. That was just kid code for we thought
our teachers and grades were evil dragons,
and we needed to get good grades and if
we took home A’s to our parents we would
get rewarded.

As we got older, it started to change.
We predicted that we would be popular, that our
crushes would ask us out, or maybe silly things,
like Ms. Mathers, our dreaded pre-algebra teacher,
would get a job offer in Africa and she would fly
there and we would never have math again. Naturally,
they would have hired a substitute teacher, but we
didn’t know that in fourth grade. All we knew was
fairytales, big pencils, and bedtime stories.
And one piece swimsuits.

I was excited for high school.
Scared, but excited.

Chapter One

These things will change,
these walls that they
put up to hold us back
will fall down.


I knew it before my alarm clock went off. I knew what time it was. I didn’t need the annoying buzz to wake me up for me to know.
My first day. Of high school. It was the my first day of freshmen. It was actually happening. Eep.

I was actually more nervous that I wanted anyone to know. Last night I was practically peeing my pants as I debated on what
to wear, how to wear it. Did seniors consider a low side bun sophisticated? Or babyish? If I wore my hair down would people
think I was being to fancy, or lazy? Did people wear skirts or jeans? This wasn’t grade school. How I looked today would make me friends
that would define the rest of my life.

Friends! Would I make any new friends? I mean, I liked the friends that I already had just fine, but what if I was best
friends with the same two girls for the rest of my life?
Not that I complaining, I loved Jen and Rachel, but I wanted to
make new friends too. What if no one liked me? What if they thought I was to nerdy? Or too stuck up? If I didn’t have friends, how would
I even live?

I gulped as I threw the covers off my body and jumped out of bed. I felt like I had gotten five minutes of sleep, even though I
had gone to bed extra early so I wouldn’t have icky purple bags under my eyes. I wanted to look fresh and bright for the first day. Guys
would think I was a slob if I showed up unkempt.

Guys! Boyfriends! Did all the girls already have boyfriends? Would they judge me because I had never had a boyfriend before?
How would they treat me once they found out that I had never kissed anybody before? In grade school, that was okay. I mean, lots of
girls never kissed anybody before. I could count at least ten girls that had never been kissed before. But this was high school. I bet
the girls made out with guys everyday.

I scurried down the stairs, wanted to get breakfast and eat it as fast as I could before I got ready.

“Morning!” I yelled at my mother, in a rush as I ran to get a piece of toast off of the table.

“Where’s the fire?” Karen, my mother, laughed as I shoved half of the toast into my mouth as ran back up the stairs. I lost
my slipper halfway and almost tripped but caught myself at the last minute. “Careful!” My mother said, trying to hide the laughter
from her voice. I walked back into my room, swallowing the last of my breakfast as I opened the closet doors.

I hoped my teachers liked me. I had always been studious but grade school stuff was easy. This was high school. Kids got
on the weekends. I was going to hate that!

I glanced at all of my clothes before grabbing the ones I had picked, making sure that there wasn’t anything I wanted to change
last minute. Finally I smiled and grabbed my clothes.

I wanted a change. I wanted to change. Say goodbye to grade school Kathy and say hello to high school Kate. My name was
Katherine, and up until this summer, everyone had called me Kathy. But Kathy was adolescent. Kate was much more grown up. Kathy was
quiet, a people pleaser, always sitting in the back of the room reading a book or writing and drawing in her journal.

Kate was going to be loud, and happy and bright and bubbly and popular. Okay, that was asking a lot of myself. Kate didn’t mind not
being popular, or bubbly or any of that stuff. Kate just wanted to be happy with herself and confident. I mean, I wanted to be happy
with myself and confident.
I wanted people to see me completely differently. I wanted people to want to be my friend. To say, “Kate? Ohmigosh I love her!
She’s nicest and prettiest person I know!” While I knew that wasn’t happened, I could dream. I wished that all the boys wanted to
go out with me. But I knew no one would be lining up by my locker. But I was going to try! I was going to try out for cheerleading and
the dance team, and maybe even the volleyball team and the school play! I was going to show up and have everyone a brand new me.
Well, nothing said happy and confident like a new, crisp white tank top with brand new dark wash jeans. I gathered my hair into a
loose side pony tale and put on a touch of clear lip-gloss that tasted like mint. I blew a kiss to myself in my bathroom mirror.
I was ready. No matter what my sweaty palms and constant I-have-to-pee squirmy feeling in my belly told me.

I grabbed my purse and backpack filled with all my new school supplies and walked back down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Are you ready?” Mom asked me as I dropped my backpack down by the front doors, slipping my feet into my favorite green
flip flops.

“Yup.” I answered, nodding quickly.

“Teeth brushed?” She doubled checked. I rolled my eyes and smiled pretty. Thanks to the high Gods above, I had gotten
my braces removed four weeks before today. And mad over- whitening had made them look shiny and envious. All of the blisters and
sores I had for a good ten days were completely worth it. “Good.” My mom said, sipping her coffee. She grinned at me.
“You still a half hour.” She chuckled at me. I patted the top of my head and grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry…I’m a little nervous.” I said to her, sitting at the kitchen table. My mom shrugged and got me a glass of water.

“Everyone is on their first day. Especially in high school.” She told me, handing me the cold glass. I took a long sip.
“Do you have your class schedule?” I nodded and set the cup down.

“Completely memorized. I don’t want to get lost. I even have Jen and Rach in a couple of my classes.” I smiled.
At least I could have somebody to talk to.

“Oh, which ones?”

“Jen is in my math class, and Rachel is in my gym class.” She nodded as I spoke and smiled.

“That’s good! Is James in any of your classes?” James Malloy was my best guy friend for as long as I could remember. Me,
Jen Callahan, Rachel Taylor, and James had been completely inseparable from almost birth. Maybe even longer.

“Yeah, world history.” I was glad that we shared that class. History was our favorite subject. Mom glanced at the clock
and dumped her coffee in the sink and rinsed the cup. I nervously waited for her, tapping my fingers on the table. I didn’t want to
be late. Even though I knew I wouldn’t be.

“Come one mooom.” I whined quietly. My mom laughed loudly and turned around.

“Cool your jets, baby. Let’s go.” She shook her head at me in playful horror as I shot out of my seat and made a beeline for my backpack.

I hoped in the car, all of my nerves on edge. I closed the door and buckled my seat belt, practically bouncing in the seat.
I bit my bottom lip, and wondered what my first day would be like. Sometimes, me and my friends played a game, making up what
our first day of school would be liked and what our last day of school would be like. We would write them down and tuck them away,
then over the summer we would take them out and laugh about how wrong out predictions were. When we were little, we said that
dragons would be guarding the opening to the castles, and that we would have to fight to save the princesses inside. And we had to
deliver her to the prince, and if we won, then we would go home champions and the people would shower us with gifts like
Barbie Dolls and Polly Pockets and Easy Bake Ovens, or maybe some cookies and cake. That was just kid code for we thought our
teachers and grades were evil dragons, and we needed to get good grades and if we took home A’s to our parents we would get rewarded.

As we got older, it started to change. We predicted that we would be popular, that our crushes would ask us out, or maybe
silly things, like Ms. Mathers, our dreaded pre-algebra teacher, would get a job offer in Africa and she would fly there and we would
never have math again. Naturally, they would have hired a substitute teacher, but we didn’t know that in fourth grade.
All we knew was fairytales, big pencils, and bedtime stories. And one piece swimsuits.

I was excited for high school. Scared, but excited.

Chapter Two

And you just might find
who you’re supposed to be.
I didn’t know who I was
supposed to be, at fifteen.



Me, Jen, and Rachel all stood in a line in front of a building that seemed to stretch on for miles. A building that would probably
look like a huge, scary maze inside, crowded with lockers and classrooms and bustling with early morning students and teachers.

High school.

“It kind of looks like a castle” Jen whispered, as if someone would hear her comment and laugh at her.

“Or a prison.” Rachel joked out of the corner of her mouth. I giggled, but had to agree with Jen.

Devon Carver High School was a large white school, with old-styled bricks and designs. A large banner handing from the doorway said
in maroon and gold letter “Welcome Back Spartans! Welcome Freshmen.” A small gold plaque by the huge double wooden doors said the school
was founded by some guy named Winsling Jefferson, had his wife was going to have a baby named Devon Carver, but when Winsling came back from
war her found out that her and the baby had been killed, so he became a monk and the monks founded a school and called in Devon
Carver. Touching. I would have read more into it if I wasn’t trembling with fear.

It was a beautiful, shining day outside. Warm enough for an early September day. Fall hadn’t touched the world yet, and they
days still clung onto summer, but there was dew on the grass, making it glisten in the sun.

We stood linked, arm to arm, ranging from deep hair, deep tans and dark eyes, to honey skin and gold hair and light eyes. Jen had always
been the exotic looking one. Her mom was born in Italy, and her father was mostly Hispanic, so naturally Jen had dark, almost black
hair. Whenever someone told her it was black, not brown, her face would get all red. She was also the most short-tempered out of us three.
Her skin was a rich mocha color that I had always been envious of, and she had deep, dark, chocolate colored eyes. Sometimes it was hard
to tell the different between her pupil and her irises. She was also the tallest out of us three. Something else I would have killed for.
Jen was shocking good at sports, but it wasn’t something she broadcasted. She was great at a number of them, but she played basketball and was on the swimming team in grade school.
I tried and persuade her to join them again in high school, but she just looked over my head, pursed her lips and told me she would
“think about it.” I thought it was dumb to throw away talent like that.
Rachel was a fiery red head. She was all Irish and very bubbly
and sometimes pretty hair headed. Her skin was a pretty translucent color, and her eyes a shocking shade of blue. She was very short,
only five feet two inches, and if you ever made fun of it for her, her face would puff up and she’d sulk for the rest of the day.
She was probably the most pure hearted person I had even met, and she always had good intentions. She was scared easily, but loud
and unbelievably funny and outgoing. She loved writing. She was amazing at writing poems and stories and songs. She was also great at
playing instruments. It just came naturally to her. She played the piano, the guitar, and was learning the drums. It was her
secret passion. She told me in private that she was doing journalism to keep her parents happy, but trying out for band for
herself.
And then there was me, the normal one. At five foot four inches, I was of average high. Not tall and elegant like Jen, nor small and
pixie-like like Rachel. I was generic, blonde hair, green eyes, honey skin. The first thing your eyes saw when you looked at me? My
annoyingly curly hair. I usually tied it back with a ribbon, to keep the long spirals from getting in the way of my glasses. I had to
keep my hair long, at least down to the small of my back, or else I was scared it would turn into an afro. And then no one would want
to hang out with me. Probably not even Jen or Rachel.
Yes, I had glasses, normal, square, black frames that didn’t look to large or bulky on my heart shaped face. I was a nerd, and there
wasn’t any getting around it. I was good at school, and the thing was I didn’t even have to try. I wasn’t to great at sports. I was
okay at volleyball, I loved it though.
My secret superpower? Dancing. I could dance all day and all night. It was the only thing I had really ever shown interest in, and as
soon as I did, my mom signed me up for private lessons. Not even Jen or Rachel knew I danced. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday night
at eight o’clock to ten o’clock they thought I had my pottery class. I don’t know why I never told them about dance. It was just
something I always wanted to keep to myself.
It had almost slipped up once, when I went ice-skating. Three weeks of lessons were required to move onto Advanced Dance for twelve
to fourteen year olds, and my friend Penny had decided to have her birthday party at a rink near our house. Jen and Rachel asked my why I knew how to do fancy spins and how to skate backwards. I lied
and told her that I fell and didn’t know how to stop myself from spinning and that someone pushed me backwards.
I’ve never been ice-skating with them ever since.

“This place is huge.” I told them, gulping.

“We should probably go inside…we don’t want to look like scared little freshmen.” Jen advised, and me and Rachel nodded to fast at
her words. We all adjusted out backpacks on our shoulders and, side by side, made out way up the large marble steps for the first
day of four years.

Room one nineteen was my homeroom. I said my goodbyes to Jen, who was in room two twenty-one, and Rachel, who was in room
three ten. I scurried to my locker, stealing a glance at my watch. Fifteen minutes until first bell rang. I only had five
minutes for passing periods, and some of my classes where on different floors! How was I ever going to get to my classes on time?
I hoped there was a special policy for freshmen. They get to be late to class for the first four months, because that’s how long it
was going to take me to get the hang of high school.

Some seniors boys past me- they were seniors, I could easily tell. They were tall, and their angular faces thin, all traces
of teenage curves gone, and they had broad shoulders instead of the awkward bulky muscles that guys got before hitting seventeen.
I couldn’t help watching them out of the corner of my eye as I walked to my locker. It was so easy to tell who the upperclassmen were.
They had confidence, a bounce in their step. This was their first day, yes, but they already knew the school, the teachers, the people.
They had no reason to be afraid like the freshmen did. I wonder if us freshmen were as easy picking out. Maybe it was just me. I just
hoped none of them threw anything at me for fun. My cousin, Steph, told me that at her school they threw pennies and used batteries at
the freshmen. I tried to avoid the eyes of anyone who looked
like they could be holding any such weapons in their pockets.

My locker was number seven-seven-three. I fished for a piece of paper out of my pocket, tucking a loose curl behind my ear.
I grabbed the black lock and twisted, one-nine-forty one.
I tugged the lock and my locker opened with easy. I breathed a sigh of relief. Two weeks of practicing finally had done me some good.
And Rachel had laughed at me. Who was laughing now, Rachel?

“Wow, you’re a pro.” I heard a familiar voice say, and I jumped up, startled, and in the process slammed my locker closed on
my backpack strap. I heard James’s laugh. I scrunched my face in a pout.

“Thanks James.” I said flatly, tugging my strap out of the
locker. It took a few tries, but it finally came out. James laughed.

“Anytime. Wanna help me with my locker?” He asked, pointing to the locker three down from mine. I felt a huge smile on my face.

“We are in the same homeroom? One nineteen?” James sighed a big sigh and ran his hands through his dark hair.

“Awesome! I was so afraid I wasn’t going to know anyone.” I rolled my eyes and grabbed the small piece of yellow paper
in James house, then twirled his lock and opened it for him with ease.

“You know tons of people.” I argued, going back to open my locker. James was on a traveling football team in our town,
and most of the popular guys from our grade school had been in it. He’s going to quit though, to try out for the high school team.
More scholarship opportunities, he had explained to me.
I never understood why James continued being friends with me. His friends made fun of me. Not around him, because it was usually
to my face.

“Yeah, but I’m still nervous.” He said, offering me one of his famous half smiles that usually melted girl’s hearts.

It wasn’t that James wasn’t good looking, he was. With his black hair that flopped into his bright amber eyes, he was a total
girl magnet. And his jock status made him future Prom King, there wasn’t a doubt that everyone would want him. But…I had never felt
anything more towards him then friendship. He was like a brother to me. Besides, Rachel had been secretly in love with him since
fifth grade, and I would never do that to her.

I smirked at him and shoved my backpack into my locker, grabbing my first period books. I could set up my locker stuff during free period.

“Come one, let’s get to history.”

Chapter Three

No one’s ever burned you;
no one’s ever left you scared.
And even though you want to,
just try and never grow up.



James and I walked to history together, looking at the entire school as we walked. We had taken a short tour in seventh grade, and another on
in eighth grade, but we had never had time to stop and look, search, and wonder. We passed the gym, were we saw the guy’s basketball
team shooting a few hoops before school started. We passed the court yard, were most kids were sitting, eating breakfast or chatting.
It was a beautiful, square courtyard, right in the middle of the school, like an open garden. There was a section with red picnic tables,
shaded by trees that almost went over the tops of the buildings. There was also a section of just green grass with some flowers and a
sidewalk, where some kids sat and talked or read. A beautiful marble railing with intricate designs blocked the school life and lockers
from the small paradise. I wished I could have my locker out here,
but I imagined that it was for the upperclassmen.

We happened to be a little early, but I was glad. It meant we could get seats in the back for the first day. James and I walked
into class, and I was pretty much relaxed by the time I sat down. I set my books and my bag on the ground and crossed my feet. James flicked
out a new pencil and began doodling on his new notebook. Even thought James would never say it to anyone out loud, he was an amazing artist.
I only knew because one day I had accidently went to borrow his English notes, but I grabbed his sketch book. He had made me promise not
to tell anyone, and I had agreed. But not before I had seen something a little suspicious.

“Whose face is that?” I had asked him, grinned slightly. James snatched the notebook away from me, his face beat red.

“It’s nobody.” He mumbled, shoving the drawings under his bed. I let it go, but I defiantly thought it looked a little bit like Rachel. Maybe.

Class started up about five minutes after. It was pretty easy; our teacher, Mr. Moore, passed out a syllabus and we had gone over
it. Pretty much basic, the first quarter we would spend learning ancient Africa, but mostly Egypt and Israel, second quarter we would learn
about Greece, and Greek Mythology, along with Rome. After we got back from winter break we would start learning about England in the
early centuries, and we would wrap the year up with China and Japan. I was pretty excited for all of it, and I could tell James was too, because he had stopped drawing and was actually paying attention.
We had always shared a love of ancient world history. I especially liked England, but James was really into the Mummies. There was even a
trip to the museum planned out. I could tell he was really happy about that.

The forty-five minutes of History blew by, and before I knew it the bell had rung.

“Please just have these signed by your parent of guardians by tomorrow! Have a good first day!” He said as we all almost ran out of the room.
None of us wanted to risk being late in case we got a teacher less understanding then Mr. Moore. Four students had shone up late, from
five minutes to almost fifteen minutes. The last one a small boy, who’s name we learned to be Austin Wright. He came in running, his
face flushed with fear and embarrassment. Mr. Moore has simply smiled and let him sit without question. I thought he would have peed his
pants with relief.

“Did you hear what he said about the seven plagues in Egypt?” James gushed as we walked out of the class. The hallways were
bustling and packed with students going to their lockers. I nodded, smiling.

“I can’t wait to talk about King Arthur. And the Black Plague! It’s gonna be awesome.” I said, pushing my glasses up the bridge
of my nose with my middle finger. James rolled his eyes and nodded.

“I have gym next. I’ll catch up with you later!” He said, turning down the hall. I nodded and waved as I speed-walked towards
the stairs. My next class was French, and that was on the second floor.

I wasn’t the first one in class this time, so I didn’t get a seat in the back. Instead, I got a decent seat in the middle, next
to a pretty brown haired girl. She looked relaxed but alert, more like a sophomore then a freshman. As soon as I sat in my seat she
shot up.

“Beth Rogers!” She said, sticking her hand out immediately. I raised my eyebrows as I shook her hand cautiously.

“Kate McGowan.” I said, and before I could greet her any further she yanked me close to her and whispered, almost frantically.

“Are you a,” She gulped, “a sophomore?” I laughed at her and shook my head.

“No. I’m a freshman. Are you a sophomore?” As I spoke, she sagged in her seat, defeated.

“Yes! I was hoping I could at least find one person my age in this class. It’s the only class where I don’t know anyone.”
I stared at Beth for a few moments.

“Well…you know me.” I told her. She pondered this over for a few seconds before grinning.

“Guess your right, freshie.” She giggled at her own joke. I smiled politely, but that was the extent of it.
I didn’t think it was to funny.

After talking for half the class, Beth seemed to deem me cool enough, for a freshman. She told me all about high school.
The football jocks hung out with the cheerleaders. The most popular girls where on Varsity Cheer. Beth was only on Junior Varsity,
and couldn’t even dream of being anyone until she made it onto Varsity.

“Jillian Cross, is who you’re gonna wanna watch out for.” She told me, leaning close, whispering out of the corner of mouth so
Madame LaSorelle couldn’t hear.

“Who’s she?” I mouthed back.

“Captain of varsity.” She explained. “Your nobody unless your someone to her. She was the first sophomore to get on varsity
and be crowned Prom Queen in the same year. No doubt this year will be her second year in a row. She ruled with an iron fist last year.
I can’t imagine how she was as a freshmen, but she was a pretty brutal sophomore. She’s going to rein her terror this year. Most juniors
do.” She paused. “You’ll know who she is when you see her.” She nodded and went on. “Of course,” Beth sighed, “she’s going out with
William Knight.” Beth swooned.

“Who?” I asked, feeling more and more like a stupid freshmen the more we talked.

“A god on earth. Even a blind person couldn’t resist his deliciousness.” It seemed that Beth herself had fallen for
his charms. “Captain of the football team, quarterback.”
She told me, as if it should have been totally obvious.

“This is starting to sound more and more like a generic high school by the second.” I mumbled. Beth raised her eyebrows.

“Far from it. Give it a few months” She snapped, as I opened my mouth to argue. I closed my mouth and felt my lips slip into a
pout. Beth grinned widely. “So, thinking of trying out for any sports?” I shrugged and bit my lip.

“I haven’t decided yet. Does this school have a dance team?” Beth sniggered, and I stared blankly at her until she stopped.

“Here, cheerleading is dance. Our team goes to state every year. We have eccentric and unique dance moves, though we are known
for our flyers,” at this, Beth flipped her hair, as if to signal that she was a flyer. I nodded along with her.

“Maybe I’ll try out for Junior Varsity.” Beth’s grin disappeared.

“Freshmen never make JV. They are usually put onto the freshmen team.” I nodded again.

“Oh? What do they cheer at? The football games?” Beth tittered at me and patted my head. In five minutes, I had to gone to equal student to insignificant frosh.

“Nope. They usually watch.” I slumped in my seat.

“Well, I can try anyway, right?” Beth’s eyes gleamed, as if she admired my courage. I felt a little better.

“Sure.” She agreed. The bell rang, and we got our books. I felt a little bit more knowledgeable as I made my way to the gym.

Part Two

Please don't be in love with
someone else. Please don't
have somebody waiting on you.
Part Two

Preface

The cafeteria was packed. More packed then I had ever seen one room,
even when we were in eighth grade and we had a junior high dance.
At least two hundred kids had shown up for that dance. But this room
was way more packed then that. It was a little overwhelming. I
looked for my redheaded friend in the lunch line and spotted her
towards the front, and it looked like she was also looking for me.
I let out a huge sigh of relief. All the movies about high school
could have never prepared me for this.Nobody sat with a clique.
There where band kids with jocks and the nerds with some very
pretty looking girls. I thought everyone would be mixed up into
cliques, but I was wrong. I felt the knot in my stomach loosen a little.

I knew I was searching for Will, but I couldn’t help it.
It was like my eyes where programmed to look for him.
Finally, my eyes caught him. He was sitting on a table in the
center of the room, high fiving a random guy and laughing. It
must have been pretty funny- he threw his head back and all of
the adorable blonde hair flipped off his forehead, leaving his
beautiful green eyes exposed. His smiled was amazing. Like sunlight.
I swear I saw the room light up whenever he flashed even the
tiniest grin.

Chapter Four

I’m wonderstruck, blushing all
the way home. I’ll spend forever,
wondering if you knew,
I was enchanted to meet you.

The gym was bigger then I thought it would be.

Since there was this weird rule that boys and girls couldn’t have gym together, I guessed it was a high school thing because
in grade school we all had gym together; there was a large divider in the middle of the gym. It was made of net, and dropped down from
the ceiling until it reached the floor. Our gym teacher, Mrs. Wells, gave us our lockers and our locks with the combinations and sent
us to get dressed. I looked around for Rachel as I grabbed my bags and walked to the locker room.

“Hey Kate!” I heard her call for me, I spun around and nearly smacked into her. I smiled once I saw her.
Talking to Beth in French had been nice, but I craved company with someone I actually knew.

“Hey!” I thought I was going to cry with relief as soon as I saw her. In grade school, we had almost every single class together.
It was really hard not seeing her, Jen and James all day. “How’s
your day been so far?” I asked her as we walked together.

“It’s been great!” She gushed, her small face flushed with joy. “I’ve already made some new friends! There’s Carter in my Algebra
class, and Megan and Becky in my Journalism class. But I’m really glad to see you!” She pushed her hair out of her face and dropped her
bags on the bench. She walked to her locker and started fiddling with the lock. “Oh!” She said, as if she forgot. “How was yours?”
I shrugged and opened my locker.

“Pretty nice. James,” She eyes glowed when I said his name. Rachel was pretty easy to read; her emotions played right
across her face. Jen was a different story. “is in my history class, so that’s going to be a blast. And I met this sophomore in my
French class, Beth.” Rachel shoved her books in her locker and grabbed her gym clothes.

“A sophomore! Are you guys friends now?” She pressed, her eyes wide as she watched me.

“I think so.” I admitted slowly. “I mean…she seemed to like me well enough. She’s on the cheerleading squad.
”
“So she’s popular!” Rachel breathed, pulling her shirt over her head.

“I guess so. That’s what she told me.” I said her, proud to have a bit of information for once. “She said that the cheerleaders
are the populars and they hang out with the football jocks. And there is this girls named Jillian is like, the queen bee here and she’s
only a junior. She’s going out with the quarterback, William. I guess they kind of rule here.” I explained as I got dressed. Rachel
absorbed all of the news. She nodded.

“Sounds about right.” She said, tying her gym shoes. She closed her locker, and I did the same. “Typical high school.”
I shrugged one shoulder.

“Beth told me to give it a few weeks. This place isn’t any regular old school, she said.” Rachel pulled her hair into a pony tale. I adjusted my glasses.

“We’ll see.” She said as we walked out of the locker room and into the gym.

As in our other classes, Mrs. Wells gave us a syllabus. But instead of going over it in detail, she merely told us we’d be
starting the year with volleyball. The net had already been set up, maybe while we where changing, and was all ready. Mrs. Wells
looked at her roster and scrolled down it, using her index finger.

“Okay,” she began as we all gathered into a group. Next to us, the boys had already begun with kickball, and where shouting
and cheering as they scored or missed. Mrs. Wells looked at all of us; most of the girls’ heads were turned to watch the boys. “Don’t
let the upperclassmen distract you girls. Eyes on the prize.”
She smirked at her own joke. Rachel turned to me, excited.

“Upperclassmen! Those are junior boys!” She giggled into her palm and, sadly, wasn’t the only one. I rolled my eyes.

“Girls!” Mrs. Wells shouted, calling out attention. “On team one will be, Clarissa Becker, Jamie Grant, Ellen Mills, Alyssa
Nichols, Kristen Oliver, Ryanne Smith and Lucia Day. On team two is Vivian Jefferson, Laura Neal, Stephanie Mendoza, Kate McGowan,
Rachel Taylor, Laura Solt, and Clare Fraizer. Pick your places!” She ordered, pointing to the court. “The rest of you will sit out for
half of the class, then we will switch.” Everyone followed her directions. Rachel smiled at me as she took the position in front of me. I wandered to the back. I sort of hoped the ball would stay away
from me. I didn’t want to be labeled a klutzy dork the first day of school. That could define who I was for the next four years. I
gulped and bent my knees, placing my hands on my thighs and waiting for the game to start. Mrs. Wells blew the whistle and I noticed that
a few of the boys glanced over to her, then looked at the game. I couldn’t tell if any of them were looking at me, but my face
flushed nonetheless and I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

The girl named Ellen overhand served the ball, and it shoot like a bullet towards Laura…which Laura I didn’t know but she called
out “Mine!” in a loud voice and bumped the ball, getting it ready to be set or spiked by who I thought was Stephanie. Whoever she was,
she set the ball over the net. It went and forth a few times before finally hitting the floor on our side. I groaned. I didn’t want to loose in front of the boys. That would make me look like…a loser.

I wished they weren’t here. They were distracting us.

Yells at shouts of the girls and the boys mingled. The ball came to me four times, three times while I was in the back and one when
I was setter. All four times I knocked it over the net and it hit the ground. Four points I had earned us. We were tied, twenty-four
points. We needed this last point to win. And it was my turn to serve.

Rachel handed me the ball with an encouraging smile.

“It’s only a game. No pressure.” She said, her voice relaxed. But as I looked at the faces of my team I knew that both of
those statements were false, false, and false. I gulped and grabbed the white ball.

I choked under pressure. Why did it have to be turn? Deep breaths. Deep breaths. It wasn’t a big deal if we didn’t win.
I would just make six possible enemies on the first day. Yup, no pressure at all. I raised the ball to serve, throwing it up in
the air. I stepped back and pulled my arm back, ready to hit it, when I heard someone shout,

“Watch out!” But it was too late. I already had lifted my leg to step, my eyes on the white ball. I stepped on something and fell
face first to meet the gym floor.

So much for good first impressions. The only impression I had made today was the one my face made in the floor.

I couldn’t tell what hurt more, my face or my ankle. I stayed on the floor, to humiliated to get up. I heard Rachel call my
name and a few people, boys and girls, burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Mrs. Wells yelled at them, and I heard footsteps running toward me. Please go away, I thought.
I just want to die here, of embarrassment, on the floor. But someone had grabbed my arm, despite my anger thoughts, and hoisted me to
my feet.

“Ouch.” I muttered quietly, trying to get my balance back. I politely tried to tug my arms away from Mrs. Wells.

“What hurts?” She asked me sternly. I shook my head.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” I insisted, taking a step. Bad idea. My ankle didn’t want to support me and I ended up falling again,
my arms flailing. Strong arms grabbed me before I hit the floor. “I’m okay, just a little shaky. No big deal…” I trailed off as I
looked at the face belonging to the arms holding me.

Never mind! I wanted to shout. Please don’t let go of me.

Chapter Five

Get me with those green eyes, baby
as the lights go down. Something
that will haunt me when you're not around.
Because I see, sparks fly whenever you smile




Worried. He was worried. An angel shouldn’t look so worried. It would put lines on his forehead. Why did he looked worried? Someone
who looks like him shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Leave the worrying to the adults, or to the average looking people.
But he shouldn’t worry. He was too beautiful too worry.

Oh me. He tripped me, that’s why he was worried.

Mrs. Wells was standing next to me, along with a few girls who had worried expressions on their faces. I looked around, some
people looked worried, some looked like they were trying to squish the smile forming on their face, and others didn’t even bother trying.
A few freshmen girls looked dazzled. Jealous, even.

“Are you okay?” He asked me, holding me up. I felt my insides unravel and swirl together and melt.

Unfair. It was unfair for anyone to have a voice like that. But wait, no it wasn’t. It wasn’t unfair for him to have that voice.
That beautiful voice matched that beautiful face…beautifully.

I opened my mouth to form words, but I couldn’t even form thoughts. How was I going to get proper words out of my mouth when I
couldn’t even conjure up coherent thoughts?

“She looks dazed! Maybe she hit her head!” Someone else asked. I didn’t know who it was. I didn’t care who it was.
The voice was gravelly, ugly. Everything was ugly compared to him. I could see other people saying things to me, but I couldn’t hear
what they said. I barely even saw anyone else. The gym was the night sky and the people here were stars, being out shined by the moon.

“Did you hit your head?” He said more sternly. I stared at his mouth when he talked. Wow, he had perfect lips. I’ve never
seen perfect lips on someone before. I’ve never seen anything so perfect. So perfect it hurt to look, but it didn’t hurt
enough to make me look away. Finally my mind wrapped around two words.

“I’m okay.” I finally choked out. I wondered if they had made sense. They sounded like odd gibberish to my ears.
If he wasn’t saying it to me, it didn’t make sense. “My ankle just hurts a little.” I blurted. Why did I say that? Now he was going
to think I was a complainer. He loosened his grip on me a little. No! I didn’t want him to let go. Maybe I could fake having a broken
ankle and fall, so he would carry me. Anything to keep him from letting go.

“Can you stand on it?” He asked me warily. I tore my eyes away from his face to look down at my feet. I put pressure on my ankle,
I felt nothing. I stood on my feel. Finally, he let go of me.

Ouch. It really hurt. The pain rushed to my ankle as soon as he let go. But that wasn’t the only thing that hurt.
The left side of my forehead hurt too.

“Does it hurt badly?” He asked me, and I must have made a whimper to give myself away. I never even noticed.
I didn’t want to notice anything but him.

“I’ll ice it and be fine.” I assured, lightly probing my head with my index finger.

“Does your head hurt?” He asked me, lightly touching my arm.
“Not really.” He nodded, taking his hand away.
Ow, ow, ow, ow.

“Come on, let’s sit you down.” Mrs. Wells said, leading me over to the bleachers. I tried not to limp. “Clarisse, can you
run and get some ice from my office please?” Mrs. Wells asked. Rachel came down and sat next to me. “Sit with her Ms. Taylors.
Shows over girls! Back to the game!” She said, clapping, herding everyone away from me.

“Yeah boys, let’s finish the game.” The male gym teacher said. The girls walked back to the game unwillingly.
Some of the guys were punching each other in the sides and pointing subtly to a group of the girls. One of the girls saw
and ran over to them, giggling and blushing. I didn’t know gym meant “mating season.”

Everyone went but him. Thankfully. He sat down next to me and watched me with wide eyes. I felt my face burn under his stare.
I felt words bubble in the back of my throat but I forgot how to speak.
First, I needed to remember how to breathe to speak. I needed to
breathe to live. Maybe. He might have been all I needed to survive.
Even Rachel couldn’t stop staring.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” He asked me, looking at my ankle, then my forehead with his big, green eyes.
They were the color of emeralds. I felt like I could see a million years into them, along with the entire galaxy. I nodded.

“Perfectly fine. I fall a lot.” Stupid! Why did I say that? That was so embarrassing. Now he was going to think I was a nerdy dork.
He seemed not to notice; he smiled and held his hand out.

“I’m Will.” He introduced himself. I had to remind myself to control myself. Don’t jump on his hand, shake it nicely.
My arms felt like jelly. I reached for his hand and grasped it. It was warm, and it sent little electric shocks up my palm and fingertips
where my skin touched his. We both jerked back slightly.

“Static.” He apologized, glancing at me from under his thick lashes. I didn’t know boys could have such long lashes.

“No biggie. I’m Kate.” I smiled at him. Biggie? Did they say that in high school? Would he think I was to babyish now?
Should I have said “No big deal” or “No problem” instead? Ugh, I hoped that my forehead wouldn’t bruise. Will flashed an adorable
smile at me and I melted again.

“Well…I should probably get back to my class.” He said slowly. “Sorry again for tripping you.” He got up and started
walking away. I wanted to run after him and hug him, and bury my face in his rich brunette hair.

“It’s cool.” I assured him. Was that all I could say? It’s cool? Pathetic. Pathetic Kate. Maybe it was better that I kept my
mouth shut and said as little as possible, I didn’t want any of my jumbled thoughts tumbling out of my mouth. Then I would sound
like a klutzy, nerdy, dorky, babyish idiot. Once he was out of earshot, Rachel shook me violently.

“Watch the head.” I snapped softly, pushed her hand away. Rachel stared after him, like in a trance.

“He’s gorgeous.” Rachel whispered. I nodded, unable to speak. Will. William…that must have been who Beth was talking about!
Oh, how wrong she was! He was more then a god on earth. He was earth. He was the entire universe! Well, at least everything beautiful
in the universe. His skin was like creamy silks, a blend of pale ivory and honey. His eyes were plainly emeralds, or maybe the
greenest summer grass. His voice was as sweet and rich as dark chocolate. He was all of the most expensive perfumes,
intoxicating in enticing. Or maybe he was the rarest flower. I couldn’t find enough words to describe him. There weren’t enough in
the world to do so.

Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh! Him being Will meant that he belonged to Jillian. That was unfair.

“Yeah he is.” I whispered, taking the ice from Clarisse and slapping it on my ankle. “Sorry about the game.”
I mumbled, embarrassed. Clarisse flipped her black hair and waved me off.

“No biggie. It’s just gym.” She flashed a smile at before running back to her team. I grinned. I liked that girl.

“How’s your head?” Rachel asked, her eyes still on the boys. It didn’t seem like she really cared about my head, or for
my answer. My mouth mashed into a hard line. Stop staring, I wanted to tell her. But I couldn’t because I couldn’t help staring
myself. I couldn’t help from watching Will.

He was defiantly popular, no doubt. The guys seemed to subtly fight for his attention, slapping his back when he went to
kick the ball and yelling words of encouragement. He flipped his honey brown hair out of his eyes and smiled. I felt all
my insides mix together and melt. I wanted him to smile at me like that.

“He already belongs to someone.” I couldn’t hide the disappointment from my voice. Rachel smiled.

“You looked like you were going to throw up on him when he caught you.” She giggled and I shoved her playfully,
my face burning.

“I wasn’t going to throw up on him.” I defended. “I was in pain. I couldn’t form thoughts.”

“I don’t think that was from the pain.” Rachel teased. I opened my mouth, but closed it. I couldn’t argue with her; she was right.