Senior year. That time in high school where you're far enough to know that high school sucks but still have another year to suffer through. That's exactly where I was, that nasty middle place.
Walking into Westwood High School on the first day of senior year seemed to be the same as any other day. Boys and girls walked the halls talking, flirting, and gossiping. The usual high school day just a year older.
Last year was my first year here and I wasn't looking for friendship then. Or any other kind of social interaction. That plan didn't work out too well when a certain tall brunette more or less bullied me into a friendship. I guess it wasn't too bad seeing as she's the closest thing I have to a best friend.
Said bully was now standing at my locker typing away on her phone. Sighing I make my way up to her and my locker to drop off my extra materials and grab my schedule.
"Alright, let's just ignore Camille," she pouts at the lack of attention.
"Stop being an attention whore," I laugh at her faux anger, "why are you bothering me so early in the morning?"
"Guess who's back?" Camille asks ignoring my question for whatever gossip she's heard.
"Who?" I'm not in the mood for a guessing game. I'm not a morning person; she should have figured that out after the unfortunate event involving waking me up and a black eye. Enough said.
"You're no fun," she says flipping her straight black hair behind her shoulder.
"No one's fun at 7 a.m."
"Wesley Royal."
"What? Who's Wesley Royal and why is he fun at 7 a.m.?"
She looks at me impatiently as if she's scolding a child, "That's who's back; it's Wesley"
Who is Wesley Royal? I feel like I've heard or seen the name before but I'm not sure from where. Thinking hard the answer suddenly pops into my head. When we moved into our new house last year that name was spray painted on the back of our fence. To this day my mom and I still make jokes about 'Wesley the Vandal'.
"That's the graffiti boy right?" I ask her to clarify.
"Yes, there you go Lia, learning how to use that pretty little head of yours," she says still speaking to me like an idiot while patting my head in praise.
"Screw you Cam," I laugh leaving her at my locker while walking away before I'm late to class on my first day back.
Why is she so excited over some boy coming back to school? It's no big deal students leave and come back to school all the time. Judging by the graffiti currently on my fence he probably was a trouble maker and seeing as Camille's dad is a cop that's probably why she knows all about him.
As I'm navigating the hallways to go to the Health room I see a group of girls standing in the way of the door talking. They're standing in their short cheer uniforms acting as if they don't have to be in class in the next minute.
"I heard he got shot and died"
"No, I heard he shot someone and went to prison"
"So not true, I heard he got kicked out of his gang and had to skip town"
"I heard he's back in town"
Ignoring their gossiping I slip through them with a quick 'excuse me' pushing past them without waiting for a response. The class for the most part is full when I get in besides a few seats spread along the two last rows. I quickly make my way to the seat in the far back corner near the window and take out my class essentials. The ringing of the bell startles all the summer-minded students as the teacher rushes in holding coffee and a briefcase. Once he sets his things down and turns toward the class he's met with immediate whispers of the students and the girls can probably be heard giggling all the way down the hallway.
This is because the man who walked in is nothing less than gorgeous. His golden blonde hair is neatly side swept with a few pieces lingering in front of his dark blue coated eyes. He could easily be mistaken for a model with his lean, muscular frame and jawline that could probably cut through the toughest glass. He was a total DILF.
"Settle down," he scolds the class playfully with a small smile on his face. He grabs the whiteboard marker and writes Mr. Royal in fancy lettering on the board.
Was this the Wesley? He was a teacher. The student population is freaking out over a teacher?
"I'm Mr. Royal and welcome to health class. Let's all be mature about this because we will be talking about things like sex and drugs," he says looking at some of the boys around the room, "That means using appropriate vocabulary, so I don't want to hear words your inappropriate nicknames for genitalia. Get me?"
A few of the students laugh at his words as other simply nod. Just as Mr. Royal moves to speak again the door flies open as a late student comes waltzing in. The second he steps in the room it goes completely silent causing me to look up from the doodles in my notebook and see the reasoning for the sudden silence.
Turning towards the door I immediately understand the cause. The boy standing in the doorway put the man in the front of the room to shame. If Mr. Royal was gorgeous, he was godly.
I'm not boy crazy, I've never really been. Throughout high school I've only had a single boyfriend and that ended terribly but this boy is physically flawless. He stands a few inches over six foot with a tall defined build. His tousled jet black hair contrasts perfectly with his pale blue eyes that hold a bored look yet challenging look like he's daring someone to mess with him. His stance and smirk practically scream trouble as he stands there thriving on the attention while waiting for the teacher to address him.
This has to be him, this has to be Wesley.
"Wesley, why are you late?" Mr. Royal asks with a stern look on his face.
"I got lost," Wesley deadpans not moving. Yeah he's definitely trouble. This is Wesley.
Mr. Royal rolls his eyes, "I'm sure you did, take a seat. Now."
The students are still silent as they evaluate the scene occurring between the two men. Some look confused, some shocked, and a few of the girls look like they're going to go into cardiac arrest.
What's the big deal? I'm sure kids mouth off to teachers every day. So why is everyone looking to the boy like he's going to murder Mr. Royal?
My train of thought is lost when Wesley walks all the way to the back of the classroom and takes a seat in the desk right next to me. The class's eyes follow him to the seat as the girls from earlier look at me angrily as if I asked him to sit there. Choosing to ignore my fate, I turn back to my notebook and ignore the look Wesley gives me almost as if he's surprised I'm not ogling him too.
After the uncomfortable silence continues to plague the room Mr. Royal finally clears his throat resulting in the class turning their attention back to him.
The rest of the class goes by without anything too weird or violent happening. Mr. Royal continues to talk as everyone still stares at the boy observing him like he's some kind of science project. The only thing out the ordinary was the questioning looks Wesley would send me throughout the period while I stared out of the window. The kid was a creep. When the bell rang everyone got up so fast their desks almost flew over as they fled the room.
As I began to gather my things, I notice Wesley walking towards Mr. Royal's desk and taking a seat as the two begin a heated discussion. Feeling as though I'm intruding, I quickly walk out the door but not before noticing the look Wesley sends my way while speaking.
••••••••••
Polariod of Gigi Hadid who plays Amelia Sanders.
Song: The Beginning by Little Mix
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Bad Boy Rumors | complete
Teen Fiction"I heard he got shot and died" "No, I heard he shot someone and went to prison" "So not true, I heard he got kicked out of his gang and had to skip town" "I heard he's back in town." ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° Amelia Sanders wants nothing more than to grad...
