"What do you even see in me? I live in a small apartment. I wear hand me downs from my friends. I work at a daycare on weekdays and babysit on the weekends. I don't drive fancy cars, I don't have the looks, I don't look like Malibu Barbie. I..." I c...
The next day was my first day at the new school. I didn't know what to expect other than a girls hanging over me and all the guys wanting to be my best friend. I managed to wake up at 6:30, because knowing my life, something comes up that makes me run late. I took a shower, dried myself off, then got dressed. Threw on what my stylist picked out for me and headed downstairs.
I was greeted by my father at the table, where my food was already out. I ate my food then headed back up the stairs to get my things. As I leave my house I hear my mom call, "Bye Lucas, have fun at school."
"Bye mom." Then I shut the door behind me. I walked over to the garage and grabbed the keys to my Koenigsegg CCX then drove off to the high school.
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I pulled up to the school and parked my car. I grabbed my backpack and put on my Ray Bans. I get out of the car and notice everyone looking at me, all except one. I lock up the car, wrap my backpack around one shoulder and walk inside, everyone still giving me starstruck looks. I push open the doors and I got black stares. Girl either looked at me seductively or tried to fix themselves up. Guys tried to befriend me, but I kept walking until I reached the main office. "Hi I'm Lucas Friar."
The lady at the desk looked up and smiled at me. "Why hello Lucas. Welcome to Abigail Adams High School." She hands me my schedule, locker number, and combination. "If you need anything, just let us know."
"Thank you," I respond with a smile. I walk back out of the office and see people gathered around me as if they were sharks hunting their bait. I push people out of the way and walk until I reached locker number 372. As I stand at my locker, a girl with brown hair walked up to her locker across from mine. She had music blasting through her headphones and was quietly singing to herself. I turn and what caught my eye first was her backpack. The original color was grey, but there were sewed up colorful patches and small holes covering the back pack.
I turn back to my locker and fiddle with the lock. I entered to combination multiple times, but it still wouldn't open. As I'm about to give up a voice behind me asks, "Do you need any help?"
I look behind me and see it's the same girl from Topanga's that I drove home yesterday. She wore a different pair of ripped jeans, slippers, and a black tee. Her hair cascaded down the side of her face beautifully. "Yeah, if you don't mind."
"No problem. This was my locker last year and the lock would never open for me." She stands at the locker. She turns the dial twice to the left, hits it twice, then pulls down; the lock magically unlocks. "There you go, it's a pain in the butt, but you get used to it after a while." She examines my fave closely. "Have we met before?"
"Thank you, and yeah. I drove you home yesterday when you couldn't hail a taxi."
"I knew you looked familiar. I was trying to remember where I saw you from. Thanks again for that ride."
