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First Day Feelings
First day of school
What’s up, guys? My name is Mary-Jane Hathaway, but you can call me MJ. I live in Beverly, Massachusetts, I’m going to continue my freshman year at Beverly High School, and I am not looking forward to it. I just moved to the East coast this past October. It is now the middle of November. You may be wondering why I am not pleased to be going to a new school. You see at my old school, I was always considered the freaky genius. I had the highest IQ in all of Arizona- which by the way involved the longest test I have ever taken in my life- and am learning four grade levels higher than I should be. I’m a freshman in senior courses this year. I could graduate this year if I wanted to, but my mom wants me to graduate with my age group. So, in short I have to go through three extra, unnecessary years of high school. Fantastic.
So, today is my first day. It is a Wednesday, so I’m going into school, in the middle of the week, in November. Great. My mom, Lily Hathaway, is dropping me off today. Now, my family loves the fact that we are rich. My younger brother Tommy,- who gets to be home schooled, by the way- flaunts it whenever someone asks about the family. My older brother Nick, wastes it like he thinks the rich should. He is already out of school, and it is his money, so my mom doesn’t really care. But, back to my mom. She’s so sweet and so loving that sometimes I want to kill her. She smothers me because I’m her little girl. Little girl my ass. I’m smarter, taller and more mature than she ever was, is, or will be. She fell apart when my father died. She hides it well though.
So, my mother is dropping me off at school and I must say that the school is huge. Not just by size, but by population. The parking lot must be bigger than at least four football fields and every space is filled. That must be over a thousand people. And that’s just in front. I’d love to see what the back looks like, but mom stops the car and unlocks the door. I look at her for a moment and it’s almost as if she doesn’t want me to go. Of course, however, she reaches over me, opens my door, and murmurs her goodbye under her breath. Love you too, mom. I scoff and get out. I pause for a moment before reaching into the backseat of our Camry and retrieve by L.L. Bean backpack embroidered with MJH on the front. As soon as I step away from the car, my mom drives off like someone is chasing her. I’m nervous. I’ve never started a new school without my friends with me. That’s okay though, I’ll make new ones... I hope.
I quickly make my way up the steps and into the main hallway before anyone can notice me. I blend pretty easily. I wear black cargo pants with a studded belt, a black “Linkin Park” T-shirt, and, to pull it all together, red, gray, and black Converse. My shoulder length, auburn hair is, as always, pulled up into a high ponytail. I really don’t change much. And I’m not goth either. I may wear a lot of black, but that is just because I like the color.
Speedily, I make my way to the front desk. Behind the desk sat a middle-aged woman. Maybe in her forties or early fifties. Her graying hair is pulled back into a tight bun and her cold blue eyes stare at me from behind wire-framed glasses. She doesn’t look too friendly, but it really isn’t my place to judge. When I didn’t say something she sighed and said,
“Can I help you, miss?” That got my attention. I nodded my head and looked around quickly.
“Yes, my name Is Mary-Jane Hathaway, and I’m new here so I need my schedule and locker number.” I said in a very formal fashion. She nodded and turned to her computer. After typing for a moment and a lot of noise from the old printer, she turned back to me and handed me my class chart. I peered at it and sighed. All AP classes. With seniors. Again: great.
“Well. seeing as your first class is AP Physics, I suggest you run along now,” I nodded my thanks and turned away from her intense stare. “Oh, Miss Hathaway?” I turned back to her with my eyebrows raised. “What grade are you in?” I smiled faintly and replied.
“Freshman.” The receptionist’s jaw dropped as I turned away from her astonished gaze. I looked down at the paper with my classes on it and frowned. Where was room 555?
“AP Physics is up the stairs, first door on the right.” A voiced whispered in my ear. I turned to look to see who it was, but as my head swiveled around the person brushed past my other side and hurried down the hall. Okay, then. I decided that, because it was my first day I didn’t have anything to lose. I hastened through the mass of bodies to the stairwell. It did go up. I marched up to the first landing and through the door. Looking down the hall I realised that I was going to spend a lot of time up here. It was labeled the AP wing. I proceeded to the first door on the right and what do you know, it’s AP Physics. The teacher caught sight of me and smiled. He stood from his chair and briskly walked over to me.
“I can see that you are a bit lost, little one. Freshman classes are all downstairs.” I frowned and handed him my paper. Like the lady at the front desk, his jaw dropped is shock. “Well, maybe you aren’t lost after all. You may take a seat next to Mr. Black in the back if you would like.” In the back row, up the steps, sat a guy, probably a senior. He had pitch black hair and icy blue eyes. He’s gorgeous if you ask me. He was wearing faded, black jeans and a black “Dropkick Murphys” T-shirt. He handed me back the schedule and turned back to his desk. “Oh, and Miss Hathaway,” Whoa, deja vu. “What grade are you actually in?” I smiled. I’m going to get this a lot today.
“Freshman.” And I continued walking up the steps to my seat. I sat down and pulled out my textbook. The bell rang and the last few stragglers hurried into the room.
“Alright, class, settle down. It seems that we have a new student joining us. Class, please welcome Miss Mary-Jane Hathaway. She may be young, but you should not hold that against her. My name is Dr. Ross, please do not hesitate to ask any questions. Now, if you will all open your books to page 515 we will get started.” The whole class opened their textbooks and began reading. The guy next to me, Mr. Black, as Dr. Ross called him, was staring at me. I turn my head to look at him out of the corner of my eye and find him scrutinizing me.
“Can I help you?” I asked. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his broad chest. He smiled slightly, then extended his right hand out to me.
“My name’s Preston. Welcome to Beverly High. Where are you from?” His voice was smooth as silk, and could make any girl melt. It was low and quiet and kind.
“Hello, my I’m Mary-Jane, but you can call me MJ. I just moved here from Arizona. It’s nice to meet you.” I turned my attention back to my textbook, but I didn’t really read anything. This was all stuff that I already knew. We were just starting Schrodinger Theories. You know, things like, if you leave a cat in a closed box with a poison that might kill it, at the end of an hour the cat has a fifty- fifty chance of being dead or alive. Seeing as the cat cannot be seen from outside the box, it is both alive and dead. But, as we all know, that can’t happen which is exactly what Schrodinger wanted to show. Dr. Ross began writing on the whiteboard. “The Schrodinger Equation.” I smiled. I loved just writing it.
“Now, can anyone come up here and illustrate the equation that I have labeled up on the board?” He waited for a moment before a few hands were raised. “Mr. Mitchell.” A scrawny boy in the front row stood and slowly proceeded to the whiteboard. He began writing and right away I noticed mistakes. They were small ones; missing numbers or swapped numbers. So in the case of the equation they weren’t small, but I mean how much can an eighteen year old boy really know? Next to me, Preston chuckled. Dr. Ross, hearing him turned with a scowl.
“Mr. Black, is something funny?” He asked. Preston stopped at once.
“It’s just that Kevin is wrong.” The whole class looked at Dr. Ross, waiting for his reply.
“Mr. Black, I’m sorry to tell you, but you are wrong. Kevin is doing a fine job. Now, if you will stay after class for a few minutes, I will give you your detention slip.” Preston sat back in his seat looking rather vexed. I couldn't understand why Preston was getting a detention for telling the truth. So I spoke up.
"Actually, sir, Preston is right. Kevin has it all wrong." Both Kevin and Dr. Ross glared at me. I was not starting out on the right foot. I could already tell it was going to be a long year in AP Physics.
“Miss Hathaway, I know that you are new here, but I do not tolerate speaking out of turn or putting down fellow students. One more outburst and I’ll put you in detention, as well.” I slumped back in my seat, annoyed. Kevin continued to write out the equation. It was still wrong. I leaned over to Preston and whispered,
“You’d think a PhD would know the difference between an AP physics class and kindergarteners alphabet comprehension class.” He smiled and chuckled. Dr. Ross looked back, so I made a show of laughing so that Preston wouldn’t get in anymore trouble.
“Is there something you would like to share, Miss Hathaway?” He asked dryly. I smiled over at Preston who raised his eyebrows and gestured, with his hands, for me to continue. I turned back to the rest of the class and spoke loudly.
“I said, ‘You’d think that a PhD would know the difference between an AP physics class and a kindergarteners alphabet comprehension class’, a.k.a Kindergarten English. I know it’s hard for some people as old as you to hear from such a long distance. Please, don’t hesitate to ask any questions.” The class burst into laughter. I added the last part in just to mock him. I sure as hell didn’t like him, so I might as well let him know, now. His face practically turned purple with rage. Uh oh.
“Miss Hathaway and Mr. Black I will see you both in detention for the next week. Saturday mornings included. Don’t be late,” He sat back down at his desk. “Kevin, sit down. Everyone else, turn to page 520 and do the review questions for the remainder of class. We did. I couldn’t wait for class to end. I finished my review within the next fifteen minutes. I glanced over at Preston to see how he was doing. He was lounging back in his chair like he didn’t give a crap about anything we were suppose to be doing.
“Shouldn’t you get started on the questions? I wouldn’t want you to get in anymore trouble for not doing them.” I whispered. Again, he smiled. That smile was going to be the death of me. It made my heart melt into a mushy red puddle of goo. Lovely. Grasping his paper in one hand, he leaned towards me and inconspicuously flashed me his paper. It was done. He had finished before me. Wow. That was unexpected.
Finally, after, what seemed like a century, the bell rang for the five minute passing period. Both Preston and I stayed after with Dr. Ross to receive our slips for detention. He gave me this whole spiel about my attitude that I probably could have told you before. I may be smart, but it only means that I’m a smart ass with good grades. Preston and I both left with smiles plastered onto our faces.
“So,” the gorgeous man next to me began. I looked up at him in stunned awe. It wasn’t until now that I realized that he was gigantic as well as handsome. He must have been at least six-six, maybe taller. I, also, noticed how his dark hair almost tinted blue in the fluorescent lighting. His blue eyes seemed to turn almost purple at any angle but straight on. Preston’s olive toned skin seemed to practically glow among the pale faces of the common high school. Like I said, he’s very handsome. I could tell all the other girls in the school thought so too, because as we past, they were practically swooning over him. They probably would have too, if they weren’t so busy sending lazer death glares into my skull.
“So, what?” I responded as I took out my schedule slip. Preston snatched it right out of my hands and held it up high so that I couldn’t reach it. Now I’m not short. I’m five foot seven. But, being almost a foot taller than me, he had the advantage.
“Well, what do you know. We have all the same classes,” He returned the paper and draped his arm across my shoulders. He bent so that his lips were barely touching the shell of my ear. “Why don’t you let me show you around, huh?” I could feel the smile in his voice and hear his quiet laughter in my ear. I nodded not knowing what to say. All I know is that for a skinny man, he must be very muscular, because his arm was heavy.
We walked down the hall a ways until we reached room 550. English. Preston steered me into the classroom and up to the teacher’s desk. He tapped on the desk to get the woman’s attention. She peered at him through her thick eyelashes. All the rest of the guys in the class were practically drooling over her young body.
“Ms. Carnathan.” Preston said politely. She smiled at him quickly before facing me. Her eyes raked over me in evaluation. A small yet deep frown knitted her eyebrows together.
“Who is this, Black?” What no ‘Mr’? How strange. She sneered her question. Preston’s eyebrows shot up.
“This is Mary-Jane Hathaway, but she prefers MJ. She is our new student.” He said proudly. Ms. Carnathan stood and, just like Dr. Ross, introduced me to the class. And, again, I sat in the back with Preston. As we sat down he passed me a paper. I opened it and saw a combination of ten numbers. Beneath the numbers was Preston’s name and a doodle of a phone. Oh. It was his cell phone number. Got it. I surreptitiously produced my personal cell from my front right pocket and added him into my phone. Seeing as class hadn’t started I lifted my phone higher and clicked a picture of him. If he could get any prettier, he did in the photo. The bell rang and everyone took a seat.
“Alright, class. Today we will be doing a continuation of our partner projects. Mr. Black, it seems that now you actually have a partner. You have no excuse to hand in your work late. Get it done.” She waltzed back behind her desk and grabbed a book from beside her and began reading. Preston turned to me and smiled. That boy smiles a lot for being the school bad boy. Oh, yeah. I hear things in the hall.
“So, what is this project that we are doing?” I asked innocently, trying not to meet his eyes. If I looked into those perfect eyes I’d sink and drown in their depths. I know that I keep going on and on about his looks, but can you blame me. If you could see him you would, too. Preston unzipped his bag and grabbed his notebook and handed it to me. Opening the journal, I could tell that Preston enjoyed English. He took extremely detailed notes, worked hard on his papers, and did his own little things here and there. I turned to his last used page and found it full of love quotes. I was shocked. Some were from famous poets or writers. Others were labeled that he had come up with them on his own. I quickly skimmed them. One, I really liked. It said, “She is my earth, my air, my fire, and my water. She is my desire, my passion, my fate, and my love. All these things are true, yet none do her justice. She is my Angel.” Next to it was his signature. It was in a neat cursive with charming loops and curves. Below it, one note, both, caught my eye and sparked interest. It was, “Now if only I could tell her that. Then life would be great, whether she feels the same or not.” Oh, man. Someone has a crush.
All of a sudden, the book was torn from my grip and flipped shut. I snapped my head over to Preston, who had his head resting on his hand with his other hand sitting on the notebook. His thumb brushed back and forth on the glossy paper. He muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out.
“What?” I asked.
“Don’t read those. They’re personal,” He whispered softly. I nodded and gazed down at my desk, again. He watched me for a moment longer and sighed. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just that those are very private thoughts.” He whispered. I faced him with a small, shy smile.
“It’s okay, Preston. I shouldn’t have snooped. If it’s any consolation, those things you wrote are beautiful. You should tell her.” He looked at me as if I had grew a second head.
“What are you talking about?” I knew he knew what I was talking about. He was just playing dumb.
“That page full of quotes. A lot were from famous writers, but most were from you. They were beautiful. Whatever girl you were talking about is going to be lucky to have you.” Preston smiled for a moment, but the joy did not linger. His brow furrowed and his eyes grew dark. He stiffened in his seat to the point that I thought he was a statue.
“I don’t have many friends at this school, so I’m probably going to say girls don’t really notice me.” I scoffed at his obvious obscurity of the subject. He thought girls didn’t notice him? If a girl didn’t notice him they were either blind or brain dead. No, eve then, they would still notice him.
“Which I don’t get. How does someone as smart, mature, and good looking as you not have friends or a girlfriend?” I asked. He shrugged.
“I don’t know. I just don’t make friends very well. I try to make a good first impression. It just doesn’t work out. I may be hot, but girls never approach me.” This was crazy. From what I’m hearing, this guy must not have any self esteem at all. He certainly didn’t seem to have the guts to talk to a girl. So, what does that make me? Chopped liver? I don’t think so.
I leaned over and rested my hand on his arm. Preston’s eyes glazed over momentarily before focusing down on our touching skin. I feel a fire raging up my arm as I touched him. It was nice. Odd, but nice. He opened his mouth so say something, but the freaking bell rang. This class seemed so short. Little did I realize, an hour and a half had gone by. Apparently, we had spent a lot of time just looking at each other. It didn’t seem like it from our conversation. I barely got anywhere with him. We collected our things in silence. He seemed to change a lot since I met him this morning. He was almost shy. I didn’t like it. It was okay for Preston to be quiet, but when he doesn’t talk at all, it’s a reason to worry. And I was.
We walked out the door together and, again, every girl I could see, seemed to be forming ways to kill me in their heads. Preston kept his distance this time. I sort of felt a little disappointed. I like having him close to me. It’s weird to say, but, it felt natural to have him there. In silence, we ambled to the cafeteria. When we reached the doors, Preston stopped.
“I sit over there,” He pointed to a booth that everyone seemed to be avoiding. “If you would like to sit with me, you may. I won’t force you to. Although, I would like to, it makes it easier to know that you are going to be there. If you decide not to that is up to you and I won’t try to change your mind. Have a good lunch.” When he was finished speaking he lifted my hand- which, by the way, I had not noticed he had took hold of- and brought it to his lips. Softly, his full lips brushed across the back of my hand. I hardly felt it, but it was enough. My heart is now a puddle of swooning goo. Fantastic, just what I need; to be falling for a senior. Some one help me.