Here Comes The God Squad

2. New boy

I walk into school in a sour mood. My mum decided that because I'm struggling to wake up early (I am not struggling, I just don't want to), it would be a good idea to wake me twenty minutes earlier than usual and curb my sugar intake in the morning.

Way to go!

And, instead of a sugar-filled breakfast, not only did I get some healthy cardboard stuff but a bonus family prayer meeting, too. The whole family, including little Tommy who had no idea what was being said, gathered in the living room and prayed that I would be able to 'stand strong' and 'resist the world's temptations'. Like, seriously? Who buys into this stuff?

So I stride into school, pumped and ready for the day ahead. (Cough). Not.

But I'm not going to let my tiredness nor my awful mess of a morning ruin my day. Today feels like a good day. I don't know why. It just really does. You know, despite its lousy start.

I'm wearing my a baggy Marvel shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. I've been a tad more generous with the makeup today since it's not church or anything, but I was never really that into it anyway. I only ever use hints of it here and there. I struggled to tame my unkempt hair into loose curls this morning, and to be quite frank, I don't really know how successful I was.

Ah well. It could be worse.

I arrive at my locker and wave at my best friend, Bea, who conveniently happens to be three lockers away from me.

"Last week of term!" she squeals.

"I know! I am literally so excited I can't even believe it and ohmigosh yes!"

We have a miniature squealing fit before we're forced to stop by the number of weird looks we're getting.

Bea is awesome. She's just so free. She has choppy black bangs (she had to tone the pink highlights down for school, but I have no doubt they'll be back for summer), a splash of dark freckles across her nose and startling green eyes. She's the person I've always wished I could be.

Her parents let her do anything. Literally. She went skydiving last year in the spring break. Freaking skydiving.

"But I won't be able to see my favourite person on earth this summer," she moans. "It's so majorly unfair."

"I told you, Bea. It's just a weekly thing. I go in for a week and then get the weekend off."

She pouts. "What am I supposed to do for the other five days?"

"They invented technology for a reason."

"It's not the same."

"Well, just...who is that?"

My eyes drift to someone behind Bea and she twists her head to get a look.

There's a boy walking down the corridor who has wavy blonde hair and deep blue eyes which look like they do a lot of smiling. He has a slumped, carefree posture and a lean frame. He's wearing a white tee and a pair of blue jeans that match the colour of his eyes.

And he's staring at me.

I frown in confusion. I'm pretty sure my brown tangle of hair's a mess again and I've probably smudged half of my mascara-- not that there was even much of it in the first place.

He comes over to me. "Sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to be rude. It's just-" He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

"Um...okay?"

"So, what's your name?" Bea asks, piping up. She leans against a locker casually, hiding the grin that I know is fighting to get out.

"Sorry, yeah. I'm Brandon."

"Bea."

"April."

"Nice names."

"Yours too," I say. "So, you're new right?" He nods. "How come you're joining school on the last week? Isn't that a bit...I dunno, pointless?"

He laughs. Gosh, he's so cheerful.

"I'm not 'joining school on the last week'. I just moved into town, so it's more of a kid of trial day, although I suppose it is kind of pointless, because I've already decided that this is the school I want to go to."

I raise an eyebrow. There are quite a few schools in the area, and he's just moved in. How did he come up with a decision so fast?

He sees my expression and nods.

"This school just felt...right. I mean, I believe in God, and I just think that he was pointing me here."

Wow. He said that so outright, without a trace of shyness.

"Oh, hey," Bea says. "April's dad is a vicar."

Brandon grins. "Oh, cool! What church do you go to?"

"Trinity," I mumble, making a mental note to get Bea back for that one. She knows I hate it when she tells people about my dad. I shoot her a warning look which she doesn't seem to register.

"Trinity? I'll check it out sometime. I'm still looking for a new church to go to, so, you know."

Great. Now he's going to be there when my father's preaching. Just great.

The shrill sound of the school bell cuts through my thoughts and our conversation, forcing us to leave off our lessons. I say goodbye to Brandon and head to  my first lesson with Bea.

"You guys have so much in common!" she squeaks in my ear.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Do you like him?"

Here we go. This was pretty much Bea's reaction to every guy we see.

"That's nice, Bea."

She grins. "You do. I know you do."

"Are you seriously gonna do this every time we meet a guy?"

"Would I be me if I didn't?"

"Fair enough."

We go our different ways, Bea going to Drama, me to Math. Fun.

I wonder what algebraic horrors Mr Smith has in store for me today. He's one of those teachers who doesn't care if it's the last week of term; he doesn't believe in winding down. At all. Ever.

I walk into the math classroom, ready to be exhausted. And guess who's standing at the front of the classroom, getting introduced by Mr Smith? It's none other than Brandon.

Well. Would you look at that.

He takes a seat directly behind me.

"How did you get here without me seeing?" I hiss.

"This classroom," he remarks somewhat thoughtfully, "has two doors. It's very weird."

I nod. "Yeah, it is."

Just then, Mr Smith starts talking, cutting us off.

"It's nice of you to make Brandon feel welcome," he smiles at me, "but let's settle down now and do some math."

I nod and so does Brandon. And for the rest of the lesson, I can't concentrate on what is being taught one bit.

But hey; what's new?