Michael’s POV
Punk, a word that has lost its meaning. Punk is a worthless person, but people never use it the same way. People call me a punk all the time, but they never mean to call me a worthless person; they call me that because of my red hair and tattoos. They call me that because I play guitar and I wear ripped skinny jeans.
Everyone has a label in our school; everyone has a group or at least a pair. No one is allowed to cross those groups and no one is allowed to socialize with anyone beside your group. Its social suicide to do so, but the rules aren’t written down everyone just knows what to do. Our school isn’t homophobic though, we completely accept gays as long as they are within the groups.
You see I am in the ‘punk’ group with my best mates, Calum and Luke, and more people who I don’t care about. We are the ones who people usually steer away from; people avoid us at all costs. You see I have a reputation in school and out. We don’t all have tattoos or died hair, Luke only has a lip piercing, but some of us don’t have any tattoos or hair dye or piercings.
But ‘punks’ like me are supposed to be dumb, not have good grades, no advanced classes. That’s why I don’t tell anyone that I’m in advanced math. No one knows except Calum, Luke, and my math class itself.
Speaking of that’s where I am at the moment, zoning out while the teacher teaches Calculus. I don’t have to pay attention in the class, all I have to do is look at the notes later and I’ll get it. It’s not like I want to be in advanced math, my brain was just made for it. I was sitting in my usually seat in the very back of the class peeking at my phone when the teacher wasn’t looking. The teacher finally stopped talking and let us works on the homework. People were working on the homework as I looked around the room at all the nerds in the class. My eyes fell on a girl who had long curly dark hair that went long past her shoulder blades, about half way down her back. She was working on her homework like everyone else in the room but me.
“Sophie!” Someone from the hallway called. The girl turned around her long hair following her movements. She caught my eye and I saw she had glasses on that hide her makeup covered hazel eyes. She blushed, then turned and looked past me into the hallway; she smiled and gave the person a quick little wave. She turned back around but not before giving me a quick look. I looked at her the rest of the class, when the bell rung I stayed in my seat until she left. When she left I watched her leave, I subtly checked her out as she walked, her hips swaying slightly like she was trying to tease me. When she left I stood up grabbing my stuff and walking out of the class.
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Sophie’s POV
Nerd, a word that’s meaning has been lost. A nerd is a foolish or contemptible person who lacks social skills or is boringly studious. People call me that all the time, but I don’t lack social skills and I’m not boringly studious. I may only have one friend but it’s only because in our school social groups can’t mix, and the people in the ‘nerd’ group don’t talk to me. They are too arrogant or too self-involved to socialize with Ashton and me. That’s ok though because we have each other, and we are ok with that. I may be in all advanced classes, but that doesn’t make me boringly studious. Our school has this utterly stupid non written rule that people from different social groups can’t socialize together. But on the bright side our school accepts gays that’s why Ashton is openly gay.
“Hey girl, so I saw Michael Clifford checking you out” Ashton winked at me.
“Was that the guy who was staring at me? How do you know everybody?” I asked
“Yes, his name is Michael Clifford and he is a punk, who’s friends with Luke Hemmings” Ashton said dreamily.
“I think someone has a crush on Mr. Hemmings” I smirked
