Life Of Bayla

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Thornsden Secondary College was my new school. It was big and I had to squeeze through a phalanx of students to get to my locker.

I looked down at the paper I had in my hand which had my locker number and time table. I sighed and began to wish I had taken my parents up on their offer of staying in and resting since they still didn't have a clue as to what is actually wrong with me on account of yesternight's episode.

"Hi", greeted a chirpy voice.

I whipped my head to the source of the voice. Long taupe colored curls were pulled up into a slightly rough bun, showcasing a smooth tanned forehead with a beauty mark right above each of her big grayish green eyes. She was beautiful.

The tall girl outstretched her hand and all I could focus on were her well manicured nails painted a shade of violet that reminded me of the bean bag in my room.

"The name's Koa". Her accent was thickly Australian and buoyant and it made me smile for some reason. I shook her hand back. "What's yours?"

Friendly, I thought to myself. "Bayla".

She echoed my name and nodded. Her eyes darted to the paper in my grasp. "So, Bayla. I take it you're new here. Sort of sighted you from afar. Figured you need some help?"

I nodded. "Yes please".

She led me to my locker which to her surprise and my pleasure was next to hers.

"First period you'll have Food Tech", she said looking up at me. "Shame we won't share the same classes today, newbie".

The bell was jingled and I felt my legs turn to jelly, my stomach churning in dread and anticipation of my first class of the day.

"S'kay. Just the warning bell", Koa said with an easy smile on her face. "How 'bout I walk you to your first class then you handle the rest yourself?"

I simply nodded and let her lead the way.

Some people passed me curious fleeting glances as my Clarks clicked on the floors. It's a new student thing. Soon, they won't give a shit about me anymore.

Initially I dreaded the concept of wearing a school uniform. Doesn't that kind of thing sort of like curb the imaginative expression of a student in terms of wearing what they choose to like, wear?

I'm arrayed in a white short sleeve button down shirt tucked into a royal blue plaid skirt that's stops at my fucking thighs. How do they let people wear this kind of stuff?

"Here you are", Koa announces once we're outside Food Technology class. She pats my shoulder gently and tosses me an easy smile. "Don't worry 'bout anything, 'kay? S'not as hard as it seems. See you round recess?"

"Uh, sure?"

She mock salutes me before traipsing to her own class. And then went the actual bell. I take in a deep breath and step into the class. Students were slowly trickling in and that just made me all the more nervous about the whole ordeal. I take a seat in the middle row and I'm soon joined by some guy. I dig for my textbook and notebook in my backpack and scour it for my pens which I can't seem to find.

I give up and drag out a sigh.I forgot my pens. "Fucking. Hell".

"Hot", the guy next to me mutters with amusenent and just as I'm about to shoot him a glare at his comment, my tongue goes lax.

The guy sitting next to me is Adonis incarnate. Floppy ash blonde hair, brilliant cerulean eyes and pale pink lips that have now been pulled into a smirk on account of my obvious staring.

Just like that I compose myself and quirk up a brow. "I'm sorry, what?"

Adonis' smirk grows wider as he leans in closer to me. "Never heard a girl cuss that easy. It's hot". I dont fail to miss his baritone. "Dont think I've seen your face. What's your-"