How to Trust Someone

Chapter 1 - Garrett

Hey guys! New story to replace the two I just deleted x.x I'm not gonna make any promises with this one. I'm putting on a total poker face for this.

I ALREADY WROTE THE FIRST CHAPTER IN MY NOTEBOOK AND I LIKE IT A LOT.

BUT THE TITLE NEEDS SOME WORK, DOESN'T IT?

Yup. Can't read my poker face.

Enjoy, beauties ~

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Chapter 1 - Garrett

Everytime I go to a new school, it feels like I'm eating a coconut cookie. I hate coconut cookies.

I don't understand why my parents insist on moving me from school to school, even though we don't even move to different states, or even different cities. It's complete and utter bull, if you ask me. I don't get it at all.

My dad tells me that every school I go to is better than the last. Honestly, I don't get the concept of one school being better than any other. I mean, all high schools are essentially the same, right? The same core classes, the same system, the same kind of people. You just have to waste more money on certain ones

Riverview School for the Arts - my newest school, possibly the one with the most cliche name so far - is one of those schools made for money. The buildings are all at least twice the size of my house, including the unnecessarily oversized faculty building. Not that it's the only unnecessarily sized building.

My dad decided that sending me to this new fancy-pants private school would give me a better education and help with expressing myself, since it is a school for the arts. But I know that's not the real reason. I mean, who's ever heard of a school for the arts you don't have to audition for? Besides, I have absolutely no trouble expressing myself at home. My walls are completely covered with my own drawings, courtesy of my trusty black Sharpie.

No, the real reason my dad sent me to Riverside is so that I could maybe, just maybe, meet someone I can learn to trust. It's always the real reason. My dad's always telling me that I need to learn how to trust people. That no one will ever trust me if I don't trust them. I always tell them I have absolutely no trouble with that.

Still, my dad is dead-set on having me learn how to trust people. And I'm dead-set on not.

I have my reasons.

I really don't see the big deal. So what if I've never really trusted anyone? So what if no one's ever trusted me?

I think all my dad really wants is for me to learn so I can trust him. But the thing is, I do trust him. He just doesn't realize it. He's the only person I trust.

I pull my keys out of the ignition, getting out of my dad's old Chevy. He let me drive it to school, emphasizing the fact that he trusts me to go to school, and not skip. I chuckle to myself, just remembering it.

I'm just surprised he was worried about me skipping, rather than me crashing the thing. I just got my license on my sixteenth birthday - about four months ago. I'm still a pretty crap driver.

Taking off my sunglasses and throwing them onto the driver's seat, I scan the courtyard. There's not really much different about the students here, compared to my past schools. It kind of surprises me, considering this is a school for the arts. I'd expect a bunch of artsy fartsy kids prancing around with paintbrushes and staff books falling out of their backpacks. But instead, it looks like any other normal high school. I see cliques.

Sitting under a tree are the nerds. They're surrounded by hardcover books and reading, in a circle around the tree, their backs to it. My eyes flicker over to the middle of the courtyard. There are the skaters, the ones with the stereotypical hair styles and skinny jeans. They're standing in a circle, each one holding their own custom-made skateboard, probably discussing what time they should meet at the skate park after school. I look over at the other side of the courtyard, opposite the nerds. There are the dark kids - emos and goths. They're all on their backs, staring up at the sky, their expensive-looking lace-up boots swaying back and forth. Looking past them, toward the main building, I see the real art kids, the ones who are really passionate about the arts. A few surround an easel, splattering paint everywhere, accompanied by three kids making music. I notice the meathead jocks on the other side of the stairs, tossing a football back and forth. Then I look over at the steps of the main building, and that's where I see the "populars".

It's incredibly symbolic, the fact that the popular kids are standing at the top of the steps of the main building. I smirk to myself, leaning back against the hood of the Chevy. I watch them a bit.

All the girls in that clique are tall, skinny, and well, hot. Right away, I can tell who's the leader. She's the tallest, the skinniest, and the hottest of them all. And the way she talks - head held high and fingers snapping - just screams leadership. It's obvious everyone in the group is wrapped around her pinky finger, including the guys. I chuckle to myself and start walking to the main building.

I pass each clique as I walk by, starting with the nerds. It's like I pass them in order of their status. I take my sweet time looking around. Everyone I walk by just stops and stares. The nerds look up from their books, the skaters drop their skateboards, the scene kids sit up.

And here I am, already pinned as the new kid. Like always.

I'm only halfway through the courtyard when I realize that everyone's looking at me. There's not a single pair of eyes focused on anything else. I slow down, looking around at everyone. I flash a crooked grin and wave them off. Some wave back half-heartedly, but for the most part, everyone's still watching me as if I'm a science experiment. I just stand there, feeling incredibly awkward. Admittedly, it's something I feel more than I'd like to.

My intense staring match with half the school's student body is interrupted when the main building's doors fly open, and a girl comes flying down the steps. She moves around the populars, but not without cheek-kissing each and every one of them. She shoots a grin at the art kids, high-fives the jocks, nods at the goths and emos, fist bumps the skaters, and throws up the Spock sign at the nerds. This girl doesn't belong to just one clique. She belongs to every clique.

This is exactly the kind of person I'd never learn to trust.

After she does her round of kissing up to everyone, she slows to a stop, right in front of me. The top of her head just barely reaches the bottom of my chin. She smiles up at me, tilting her head to the side slightly. I just stare at her. Everyone else stares at us.

"You're new, aren't you?" she says. Her voice is surprisingly the slightest bit raspy. I cock an eyebrow at her.

"What gave it away? The fact you've never seen me before, or the fact that everyone was staring at me until you walked outside?" I reply bluntly. The girl blinks, her smile dropping. She looks at me blankly. I smirk involuntarily.

I'd bet a million bucks no one's ever even been sarcastic with this girl before.

"Um, I guess the fact that I've never seen you before," she says, a little uncertainly. My smirk only widens.

"Wow, must really be a shot through your heart to not know someone," I say. She narrows her eyes. It's so slight I almost don't notice. Almost.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she retorts. It's rude. Probably unusual for her. My smirk widens until it's a crooked grin. I ruffle her hair and walk past her.

"Figure it out," I tell her.

I leave her dumbstruck, with her jaw hanging open, completely speechless.

Speechless. Probably foreign to her, too.

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So here's chapter 1! I think I'm actually gonna go write chapter 2 now, which will be in the girl's (Liz's) point of view. This is gonna be a he-says she-says story, so the POVs will alternate every chapter. :D

Hope you liked it!